In wanting I seek
In seeking I want
It is a paradox of life
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
wow
What happened? I used to be able to pump out shit like no tomorrow. I haven't even started this essay and I've already been here for about two hours. I am so incredibly frustrated. Is this all just because I'm not going to grad school? I've suddenly gone backwards into the mentality that I used to have before I made this decision. Unmotivated and ultimate lacking in confidence.
As seen by the fact that I'm back here-the-fuck-again. I'm just angry. But angry wont get me anywhere. Only I can do this, unfortunately.
Later.
As seen by the fact that I'm back here-the-fuck-again. I'm just angry. But angry wont get me anywhere. Only I can do this, unfortunately.
Later.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
revival
My period's been heavier than usual, which has left me weak and moody. But in light of this, I just thought, I have been given something that I've been longing for recently - emotion. Sometimes I get so annoyed at how dead everyone is. No one wants to feel passionately anymore or find emotion in the cosmos in the light and shadows on a lazy afternoon. It's too uncomfortable, too wearisome, to feel until your heart explodes; and also, to feel someone else's. My emotions have always been a burden to people, and thank you Pill for providing me with a plug for them.
Thank you, thank you thank you thank you thank you
For relieving me of a burden so great that in order to relieve myself I had to write and write and write, moving my heart and writing the ink on white the black on blank until my eyes teared up and the wind was blowing, blowing over the snow picking up a mist of snow a mist a mist of hazy white and
And now I am dry. Thank you for that plug so that everything is held tantalizingly back, just out of reach.
It's just barely, now, though, this moodiness has only opened up the plug a tiny little, so that even now I can see from outside of myself and watch with stillness. I like it though, I like it, to be able to stand with the sun at my back and look on with the stillness of a mountain. Or a volcano. Oh you wise mountain with a treasure of lava just waiting to explode out onto the world. Burn burn burn it, make it FEEL! Make it cry your tears and explode into flames into ecstasy into everything we've all ever wanted...
Well my crazy is done for now. I forgot what I wanted to say, but perhaps this all was it all along.
Thank you, thank you thank you thank you thank you
For relieving me of a burden so great that in order to relieve myself I had to write and write and write, moving my heart and writing the ink on white the black on blank until my eyes teared up and the wind was blowing, blowing over the snow picking up a mist of snow a mist a mist of hazy white and
And now I am dry. Thank you for that plug so that everything is held tantalizingly back, just out of reach.
It's just barely, now, though, this moodiness has only opened up the plug a tiny little, so that even now I can see from outside of myself and watch with stillness. I like it though, I like it, to be able to stand with the sun at my back and look on with the stillness of a mountain. Or a volcano. Oh you wise mountain with a treasure of lava just waiting to explode out onto the world. Burn burn burn it, make it FEEL! Make it cry your tears and explode into flames into ecstasy into everything we've all ever wanted...
Well my crazy is done for now. I forgot what I wanted to say, but perhaps this all was it all along.
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