(no subject)
Gigantic feeling of confusion today. Most days, I know exactly what I want and where I stand. But for some reason simple words changed me. My heart beats at a different rate and I can't help but feel the slightest bit disguisted with myself. I know there is absolutly no point, because the tunnel dug to the treasure has long since been buried. But lately I have felt as an archiologist. And that maybe, I could revive that lost relic.
That feeling. That moment. I think of myself as capable. Capable of anyting, any task. I believe in the impossible. actually I take time to appreciate it. But with each passing day the past becomes the history. And history changes and destorts to something that may of may not have ever happened. It's just the way we recall it that makes me feel that way. Memory is the idea of snapshots of what i think happened be put into motion in my head, this in turn distorts reality events and stories. It makes you forget all the crazy, mean and horrific things you might have had to endure and makes that person, the pianadminister seem like a saint. In the deepest depths of my memory I can recall a world of unlimited betrayal. But in my most recent fits, I can just discover an infactuation that I thought was long lost.
I hate lights at the ends of tunnels, because when I see them. I try valiently to see what is glowing. I would never last as an astronuat or a volcano explorer. I would see brightness in darkness and next thing you know I am charred remains of a person who never exsisted.
In through all this I wonder....What would happen.
And the answer at present time.
nothing.
That feeling. That moment. I think of myself as capable. Capable of anyting, any task. I believe in the impossible. actually I take time to appreciate it. But with each passing day the past becomes the history. And history changes and destorts to something that may of may not have ever happened. It's just the way we recall it that makes me feel that way. Memory is the idea of snapshots of what i think happened be put into motion in my head, this in turn distorts reality events and stories. It makes you forget all the crazy, mean and horrific things you might have had to endure and makes that person, the pianadminister seem like a saint. In the deepest depths of my memory I can recall a world of unlimited betrayal. But in my most recent fits, I can just discover an infactuation that I thought was long lost.
I hate lights at the ends of tunnels, because when I see them. I try valiently to see what is glowing. I would never last as an astronuat or a volcano explorer. I would see brightness in darkness and next thing you know I am charred remains of a person who never exsisted.
In through all this I wonder....What would happen.
And the answer at present time.
nothing.