(no subject)
with the appropriate teenage angst i begin this entry.
ive begun to think of my life in terms of living it. that may make no sense so i will elaborate accordingly. to live as living, not to live in terms of salvation. and i do not mean it with any religious connotation, but in the sense of being saved from the redundancy of every sunrise and sunset. whether it be religious or stictly idealistic, a basic reprieve from the absurdity that often claims our lives.
in layman terms, i dont care about anything but mindlessly follow the above implied redundancy- blissful in all its monotony.
without a doubt i sound mad. daft. looney. any of these words would probably fit. i dont care enough to refute any remarks on my mental condition. my diction is strange and uncouth. unwieldly. cumbersome. clumsy. i cannot claim to make sense because the reader is the one percieving the words i so erratically type. the sense belongs to you oh unknown and most likely unexisting reader.
i have thoroughly forgotten the point of this entry save the fact that i did not have a point of discussion when i initiated this entry. i had merely an a illusive feeling that caused me to start typing. perhaps in order to portray a sense of betrayal, a loss of innocence, a deep depression, a giving up of sorts, or simply boredom. again, the power of perception lies in the observer.
all i seem to know is that i am torn by what i could have been. i am great gastby without the delusions of granduer. i am depraved and heroic. i am a poster child. i am a walking contradiction.
ive begun to think of my life in terms of living it. that may make no sense so i will elaborate accordingly. to live as living, not to live in terms of salvation. and i do not mean it with any religious connotation, but in the sense of being saved from the redundancy of every sunrise and sunset. whether it be religious or stictly idealistic, a basic reprieve from the absurdity that often claims our lives.
in layman terms, i dont care about anything but mindlessly follow the above implied redundancy- blissful in all its monotony.
without a doubt i sound mad. daft. looney. any of these words would probably fit. i dont care enough to refute any remarks on my mental condition. my diction is strange and uncouth. unwieldly. cumbersome. clumsy. i cannot claim to make sense because the reader is the one percieving the words i so erratically type. the sense belongs to you oh unknown and most likely unexisting reader.
i have thoroughly forgotten the point of this entry save the fact that i did not have a point of discussion when i initiated this entry. i had merely an a illusive feeling that caused me to start typing. perhaps in order to portray a sense of betrayal, a loss of innocence, a deep depression, a giving up of sorts, or simply boredom. again, the power of perception lies in the observer.
all i seem to know is that i am torn by what i could have been. i am great gastby without the delusions of granduer. i am depraved and heroic. i am a poster child. i am a walking contradiction.