Beginnings
I need to change my enviroment. Jacksonville is not the place for me. Hell, Florida isn't the place for me. But I don't know where to go. I feel a calling towards Seattle, for some unfathomable reason. Probably just an inevitable wanderlust kicking in, forcing action in some sort of way. Complacency breeds contentment, and being content is more despicable than being miserable. I loath my contentness more than I loathe my misery. Give me mood swings, give me wretched sadness and loathing, but don't make me the walking dead. If I die I die, but I'd rather embrace living than live a half-dead existence. Which, in retrospect, seems ironic.
There's too much turmoil in my head, but it's still the best port in the storm. It has all my favorite indulgences, and all of the greatest risks. If I could suck myself into my own head I'd be filled with alternating states of joy and misery. It'd be a wonderland of morbidity and self-actualization. It's too bad I don't possess any artistic ability. I think expressing myself outside of words would be a pleasant change of pace. I'd probably learn something.
Maybe I'll change my mind. Change my perspective and my outlook, but I doubt it. I'm a nihilistic mystic and a casual abuser. I'm grounded in reality so far I can barely see my dreams anymore. And unless my brain pulls itself out of its proverbial ass I doubt that will ever change. My brainshit seems preferrable to most conversational feasts.
Welcome one and all to the show that never ends.
There's too much turmoil in my head, but it's still the best port in the storm. It has all my favorite indulgences, and all of the greatest risks. If I could suck myself into my own head I'd be filled with alternating states of joy and misery. It'd be a wonderland of morbidity and self-actualization. It's too bad I don't possess any artistic ability. I think expressing myself outside of words would be a pleasant change of pace. I'd probably learn something.
Maybe I'll change my mind. Change my perspective and my outlook, but I doubt it. I'm a nihilistic mystic and a casual abuser. I'm grounded in reality so far I can barely see my dreams anymore. And unless my brain pulls itself out of its proverbial ass I doubt that will ever change. My brainshit seems preferrable to most conversational feasts.
Welcome one and all to the show that never ends.