Funny things
Ok, easy now. Alright, go! FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! You say I need to stop dating douche bags. So you can be the next douche bag to fuck it up? If you're going to make the first move, back it the FUCK up. Don't leave me hanging and trail me along with sweet kisses and failed attempts at time spent. If you can't manage to want to spend time with me, then don't and be done. We're still friends. I'm not such a child to not be friends with you when we've been friends this long. Keep your hands to yourself now. There IS a price you pay. It's called respect. The end.
In other news, with the full moon and eclipse the other day, I was feeling EXTREMELY morbid. I had nightmares all night with the eclipse I had no idea was happening. And I don't remember the nightmares because at some point I woke up terrified for the 4th time and decided I wanted to forget what I was nightmaring about. So I consciously made myself fall back asleep for 15 minutes to get my brain zapped back into reality. It worked, strangely enough.
So yesterday I was feeling down again. Not that I have much reason for it, it's the way I feel. Hopeless existence has been racking my brain for days now. I was reeling at the thought we're a bunch of organisms living on this cell of a planet. Animals, floating along in the sea of the universe. It's quite morbid and unfair, but only because we have a conscious and a sense of what unfair as a word means. It's extremely frustrating. It really makes me wonder, then WHY? Why give such a fuck. Why try so hard. Why the fuck does it matter? I know why now. But yesterday I was entertaining the thought of something more dark and twisted. I wanted to draw. It didn't help, I still can't draw what I feel, I feel. Well I was attempting to draw this angst and morbid energy out onto paper at the park. I was laying on a beach towel in a kini, with my headphones on to Pink Floyd's Mother. I was sitting up, enjoying the heat of the sun and the bareness of my skin when a little man walked up and said "excuse me". Uh hello, I'm wearing fucking headphones and am half naked, "hi". "I was wondering if you might be interested in a survey?" he asked. What the fuck, I'm sitting here with headphones on and you want to do a survey? "What kind of survey? A spiritual one, ok I said. So he sits down and tells me some shit about god and asks me some questions. I let him know my background and he asks a few more questions. Then he whips out this little pamphlet. Oh shit! I let him roll with it and was actually listening. So it ended up he wanted me to pray with him to let JC into my heart. I told him I'd pray at home. Then he said, you know it isn't chance we met today. I already knew it wasn't chance when he asked to do a spiritual survey, but I didn't want to scare the poor bastard. I almost told him about what I was writing in my journal when he walked up, but I didn't want to carry on in the conversation anymore. I wanted to revel in the answer I had received to my twisted meanderings. Sometimes I get mad at myself for asking. But only because the answer makes me feel better and I can move on. Sometimes I like to feel down and dirty. It puts me back on the edge. It makes me feel more powerful than my feel good. My feel good makes me feel vulnerable, where my dark edge makes me feel invincible and able to do what I want, without consequence. I like to be ill minded every now and then. But this brought me back to hopeful. No more despair, no more morbid reflection, no more Fuxing it. Aaaaaaaaah, all better. For now. And on to today. I am still holding a bit of my power inside. I need to use it, for something. I have this deal I want to make at work, but again, last night I had nightmares about being shot down and my dream being diminished. I came into work and talked about it with my friends and co-workers, only to have my hope brought back again, but wilted a little by the evident facts. I'll set my path as planned, but I'm going to have to make compromises and settle for what is available, if I want to stay. There is no ALL ME, it will have to be worked up to.
I am vague because being descriptive takes more lines and more time. It's a habit. Not something I try to do. I was told this yet again last night. It's something I know. I wish I could be completely vivid and release all the details when I write and speak. I'm afraid if I don't get the basis on the page or out of my mouth when I have the idea, I'll forget the point when I'm scripting the details. How can I master this flaw? I want to, because I want to write more. I want to communicate effectively. And I'm sore at the thought I don't have any training professional or friendly. And I'd take it if it was offered. My laziness is pathetic. I need an update. Back to the drawing board of my design.
I must not want to work today.
In other news, with the full moon and eclipse the other day, I was feeling EXTREMELY morbid. I had nightmares all night with the eclipse I had no idea was happening. And I don't remember the nightmares because at some point I woke up terrified for the 4th time and decided I wanted to forget what I was nightmaring about. So I consciously made myself fall back asleep for 15 minutes to get my brain zapped back into reality. It worked, strangely enough.
So yesterday I was feeling down again. Not that I have much reason for it, it's the way I feel. Hopeless existence has been racking my brain for days now. I was reeling at the thought we're a bunch of organisms living on this cell of a planet. Animals, floating along in the sea of the universe. It's quite morbid and unfair, but only because we have a conscious and a sense of what unfair as a word means. It's extremely frustrating. It really makes me wonder, then WHY? Why give such a fuck. Why try so hard. Why the fuck does it matter? I know why now. But yesterday I was entertaining the thought of something more dark and twisted. I wanted to draw. It didn't help, I still can't draw what I feel, I feel. Well I was attempting to draw this angst and morbid energy out onto paper at the park. I was laying on a beach towel in a kini, with my headphones on to Pink Floyd's Mother. I was sitting up, enjoying the heat of the sun and the bareness of my skin when a little man walked up and said "excuse me". Uh hello, I'm wearing fucking headphones and am half naked, "hi". "I was wondering if you might be interested in a survey?" he asked. What the fuck, I'm sitting here with headphones on and you want to do a survey? "What kind of survey? A spiritual one, ok I said. So he sits down and tells me some shit about god and asks me some questions. I let him know my background and he asks a few more questions. Then he whips out this little pamphlet. Oh shit! I let him roll with it and was actually listening. So it ended up he wanted me to pray with him to let JC into my heart. I told him I'd pray at home. Then he said, you know it isn't chance we met today. I already knew it wasn't chance when he asked to do a spiritual survey, but I didn't want to scare the poor bastard. I almost told him about what I was writing in my journal when he walked up, but I didn't want to carry on in the conversation anymore. I wanted to revel in the answer I had received to my twisted meanderings. Sometimes I get mad at myself for asking. But only because the answer makes me feel better and I can move on. Sometimes I like to feel down and dirty. It puts me back on the edge. It makes me feel more powerful than my feel good. My feel good makes me feel vulnerable, where my dark edge makes me feel invincible and able to do what I want, without consequence. I like to be ill minded every now and then. But this brought me back to hopeful. No more despair, no more morbid reflection, no more Fuxing it. Aaaaaaaaah, all better. For now. And on to today. I am still holding a bit of my power inside. I need to use it, for something. I have this deal I want to make at work, but again, last night I had nightmares about being shot down and my dream being diminished. I came into work and talked about it with my friends and co-workers, only to have my hope brought back again, but wilted a little by the evident facts. I'll set my path as planned, but I'm going to have to make compromises and settle for what is available, if I want to stay. There is no ALL ME, it will have to be worked up to.
I am vague because being descriptive takes more lines and more time. It's a habit. Not something I try to do. I was told this yet again last night. It's something I know. I wish I could be completely vivid and release all the details when I write and speak. I'm afraid if I don't get the basis on the page or out of my mouth when I have the idea, I'll forget the point when I'm scripting the details. How can I master this flaw? I want to, because I want to write more. I want to communicate effectively. And I'm sore at the thought I don't have any training professional or friendly. And I'd take it if it was offered. My laziness is pathetic. I need an update. Back to the drawing board of my design.
I must not want to work today.