Burrito, light of my life, fire of my loins.
So.
I feel better than last entry. But, in any event, this past week has led to my questioning some shit and reevaluating a lot. I dunno. I'm sick of being hung up on the past. It's not even like I feel the same completely, I'm just resentful and sick of giving a damn. Also, I've just been thinking about life and my priorities and such. I need to relax. I need to go out and do some shit. Sitting around my dorm isn't doing it for me. If I had more cojones, I'd take next year off, but I don't know what that would do. In any event I'm sick of feeling restless and/or defeated and/or lonely.
Stress and emotion are helping me write. I've cranked out an assload of poems lately, some of which are decent enough. Also I've been riding my bike a lot, which is good; I'm looking forward to not driving as much this summer, although I love it. Regardless I have to share a car with my brother so that just gives me an opportunity.
I dunno. This is a hell of a time to be alive and I feel too bogged down by silly little things and (gasp! I never thought I'd admit I had them) regrets to be enjoying myself enough. I need to get a job. I need to explore. I need to read more, and definitely to write more. I need to spend less time on campus and more time doing what I goddamn well please in the cities I haven't taken enough advantage of. I've finally kind of found some idea of direction with what I want to study, which has been great, so I can dive into that with a little more certainty and not feel like I might be making a mistake.
My goal now is to not think so damn far ahead or so far back and just kind of cruise for awhile.
So anyway, that brings me to the final point, which is that I'm taking what will, if nothing else, be a long-ass break from LiveJournal, especially from checking my stupid friends page, which has helped absolutely nothing. My real journal is where my thoughts should be going anyhow; I don't have to be ambiguous and you don't get to read it. Whatever. The internet is stupid. I'd delete my Facebook too, but it's kind of too valuable a social tool.
I dunno. Whatever. I've been writing in an online journal for way too long. No offense to anyone who bothers to read this far. It's just that I've been putting down little emo platitudes, and shitty poems, and stories about my life that just aren't important. And anyway I don't know half the people on my friends list that well anymore anyway and I'm sure they don't lose sleep over what I put down here anyway.
Whatever happens, happens. I like the quote in Pale Fire that "Life is but a message scribbled in the dark." This fucking thing has just been, at least for the past year, a mad groping for the lightswitch. I hope at some point I can get all of my entries and print them out. Looking back at shit from Freshman year is pretty bizarre. Anyway, at least up until the past six months or so this has actually kept a better record of my life than my actual journal in some ways.
So, as I was saying, whatever happens, happens. In the future or otherwise. Maybe sometime I'll break down and write in this again, but for now, g'bye. Here's my last emo platitude (I think it's appropriate if you analyze it a bit):
While the blood still throbs through my writing hand, you are still as much a part of blessed matter as I am... Be true to your Dick. Do not let other fellows touch you. Do not talk to strangers. I hope you will love your baby. I hope it will be a boy. That husband of yours, I hope, will always treat you well, because otherwise my specter shall come at him, like black smoke, like a demented giant, and pull him apart nerve by nerve. And do not pity CQ. One had to choose between him and HH, and one wanted HH to exist at least a couple of months longer, so as to have him make you live in the minds of later generations. I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.
Take that as you will. I realize it's kind of pretentious to quote novels but for some reason that passage popped into my head.
Peace, y'all.
I feel better than last entry. But, in any event, this past week has led to my questioning some shit and reevaluating a lot. I dunno. I'm sick of being hung up on the past. It's not even like I feel the same completely, I'm just resentful and sick of giving a damn. Also, I've just been thinking about life and my priorities and such. I need to relax. I need to go out and do some shit. Sitting around my dorm isn't doing it for me. If I had more cojones, I'd take next year off, but I don't know what that would do. In any event I'm sick of feeling restless and/or defeated and/or lonely.
Stress and emotion are helping me write. I've cranked out an assload of poems lately, some of which are decent enough. Also I've been riding my bike a lot, which is good; I'm looking forward to not driving as much this summer, although I love it. Regardless I have to share a car with my brother so that just gives me an opportunity.
I dunno. This is a hell of a time to be alive and I feel too bogged down by silly little things and (gasp! I never thought I'd admit I had them) regrets to be enjoying myself enough. I need to get a job. I need to explore. I need to read more, and definitely to write more. I need to spend less time on campus and more time doing what I goddamn well please in the cities I haven't taken enough advantage of. I've finally kind of found some idea of direction with what I want to study, which has been great, so I can dive into that with a little more certainty and not feel like I might be making a mistake.
My goal now is to not think so damn far ahead or so far back and just kind of cruise for awhile.
So anyway, that brings me to the final point, which is that I'm taking what will, if nothing else, be a long-ass break from LiveJournal, especially from checking my stupid friends page, which has helped absolutely nothing. My real journal is where my thoughts should be going anyhow; I don't have to be ambiguous and you don't get to read it. Whatever. The internet is stupid. I'd delete my Facebook too, but it's kind of too valuable a social tool.
I dunno. Whatever. I've been writing in an online journal for way too long. No offense to anyone who bothers to read this far. It's just that I've been putting down little emo platitudes, and shitty poems, and stories about my life that just aren't important. And anyway I don't know half the people on my friends list that well anymore anyway and I'm sure they don't lose sleep over what I put down here anyway.
Whatever happens, happens. I like the quote in Pale Fire that "Life is but a message scribbled in the dark." This fucking thing has just been, at least for the past year, a mad groping for the lightswitch. I hope at some point I can get all of my entries and print them out. Looking back at shit from Freshman year is pretty bizarre. Anyway, at least up until the past six months or so this has actually kept a better record of my life than my actual journal in some ways.
So, as I was saying, whatever happens, happens. In the future or otherwise. Maybe sometime I'll break down and write in this again, but for now, g'bye. Here's my last emo platitude (I think it's appropriate if you analyze it a bit):
While the blood still throbs through my writing hand, you are still as much a part of blessed matter as I am... Be true to your Dick. Do not let other fellows touch you. Do not talk to strangers. I hope you will love your baby. I hope it will be a boy. That husband of yours, I hope, will always treat you well, because otherwise my specter shall come at him, like black smoke, like a demented giant, and pull him apart nerve by nerve. And do not pity CQ. One had to choose between him and HH, and one wanted HH to exist at least a couple of months longer, so as to have him make you live in the minds of later generations. I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.
Take that as you will. I realize it's kind of pretentious to quote novels but for some reason that passage popped into my head.
Peace, y'all.