Yeah.
Heya, guys. Don't I sound...chirpy...cool...and out-right fantastic?
Sure.
"Strands and fibers desolate to thought and custom procedures."
Anyway... w00t.
Let's see, I worked a lot, wrote a lot, thought a lot, and sang a lot; I spent money a lot, I tried to make other people's lives better a lot, and I forgot about myself a lot -- no -- totally.
What's best for me? I know what's best for me. Not to be that person that's there for everyone. Not to be that person who's willing to drop everything for someone. Not to be that fucking person who's life revolves around others, and there's not even an axis for my spine to spin on, let alone an atmosphere for me to breathe. Maybe I have to do things for myself for a change. Maybe I have to be a prick. Maybe I have to be one of those kids who actually has enemies. Maybe, just maybe. I don't want to be ANY of that. I want to be me. I like me. "Me" is this:
- That person who is there for EVERYONE.
- That person who is willing to drop EVERYTHING for one person.
- That person whose life DOES revolve around other people.
- That person who, overall, tries so HARD to make life better for everyone but himself.
Okay. Sure. Maybe I'm not a godsend, but I am a good person, with nothing but good intentions in regards to my actions.
So maybe I'm a hopeless bitch, who doesn't see that his personality has nothing to do with being a good person, because that's what others would probably perceive him as, but perhaps that it just shouldn't exist. So if I do all this, it does nothing but cause "drama," "trouble," and overall depression, in which I don't show, because it causes more of the same ripples. Maybe I should be put on the "happy pill." But then again, maybe I should just forgive, forget, and get on with life once again, like I always do. Even though there's nothing to forgive, nothing to forget, and amazingly, I always get on with my life. How else do you think I made it through five years of thoughts only like...four people know about. Maybe if I didn't find a hobby that let me regress my thoughts as writing does, I wouldn't be here. "I wouldn't be here," has two different meanings: Either I would have just up and killed myself, or I would have moved when I was asked if I wanted to. I would have different friends, a different life, and a different situation -- but I'd still be the same fucking kid who tries too hard to be the character on your favorite television show or in your favorite novel -- the sweet, caring shoulder to cry on. So what's so wrong with being me? I'm not fictional, damnit. I'm non-fiction all the way through. So, believe that there are some people out there who do give a damn. And maybe if you think about it... you'll give a damn too.
"You and I both know that finding reason,
For a sudden drop of temperature is wrong.
So fire me,
Into oblivion,
And give me, this to believe in:
Just because this life isn't what I wanted,
It's still better than what I needed."
I know the world's never going to be perfect. There's always going to be feelings in the air and in people's thoughts; hatred, love, grief, anger, confusion, jealousy, war, peace, broken hearts, and mended hearts; positive and negative, both of them, spinning in a harmonic note that helps the world continue to function. I guess we all can't be happy, and I guess we all can't be sad. If we were all happy, we'd live forever, love forever, and the words "hate," "grief," "anger," "confusion," "jealousy," and "war," would have lines through them in the dictionary. If we were all sad, the world would be desolate, as every human being would either kill each other, or kill themselves.
"Help me, this storm is way too strong.
I'm being pulled under,
The waves crashing down,
And I can't hear the thunder.
I can't swim to the top,
And I can't hold my breath any longer.
I can't see the cautious sky,
I think I'm beginning to die."
Fuck a perfect world. Fuck a horrible world. I like it as it is, no matter how hard it's been through seventeen years, because within those seventeen years, there WAS and IS happy times. Good times. Wonderful times. Memories... And sure, there WAS and IS sad times. I've been through them, and continue to go through them. But just like everyone else in the world, right?
Exactly.
I like life, and I'm not going to let it fuck me up forever because of some things that people either experience also, or have no idea about. But no matter where their point stands, my point stands here on the chart:
In the middle of the beginning of a life I want to live; a life I WILL live.
I know I'm not alone, even if I'm the only one hurting right now from the certain cituation that inspired this "rant." I shouldn't be sorry because I still care, and I'm not over it yet, so I won't. But I also know I'll have some of the same friends I have now twenty years from now; I salute to this. There are just some people I know now that I never want to lose contact with, because deep, down inside, they're the same exact thing as I am:
THAT person.
...Even if they don't know it.
I would name them, but they already know who they are. Yeah, you do. Some may read this, and some will probably never catch a word I've written here. But that's perfectly fine, because they know.
Enough of that. Let's move on.
Tonight, I'm going to the Taste of Chaos tour tonight! w00t! It's going to be awesome. Who knew I would like The Used so much, or A Static Lullaby? I probably wouldn't have given them the light of day. Shame on me... I get to see Killswitch Engage too. Hmm, times like this are the happy ones. I'm pretty sure Tami is the one coming with me, which is, yes, cool. No biggie. Good friend, good person. Yeah, you're one of those people. ;) It'd be cool if Sabrina found a ticket, and let's go all out and say that Andrew and Eric hopefully found tickets as well; Jennifer, Lisa, Phoenix, Nikki, Melissa, Aaron, Trey, Stephanie, Allan, Chris, and Gordon, and even further, Steve, Hope, and the other Eric did too. Regardless, it's going to be fun...and awesome..because that's what I set the situation on.
Tomorrow, I don't know what I'm doing. I was supposed to go to some party, but I don't see that happening now because of... yeah. Maybe that still stands, if she asks for a ride. Or maybe I'll sit and dream; suffer and listen to my heart beat in silence. Or maybe I'll go out with some friends; laugh and listen to the lame jokes. Maybe I'll even ASK to go to work.
Sunday? Who knows?
Monday? Again, who knows?
Tuesday? Atreyu concert.
Right now? I'm gonna' get off the computer, cause I'm starting to write stuff that when I read, it hurts to read again. Inspiration in life? It's everywhere, but I guess the biggest inspirations are the ones you actually perceive... and care about.
Till next time... and yeah, I guess I'm all right.
Sure.
"Strands and fibers desolate to thought and custom procedures."
Anyway... w00t.
Let's see, I worked a lot, wrote a lot, thought a lot, and sang a lot; I spent money a lot, I tried to make other people's lives better a lot, and I forgot about myself a lot -- no -- totally.
What's best for me? I know what's best for me. Not to be that person that's there for everyone. Not to be that person who's willing to drop everything for someone. Not to be that fucking person who's life revolves around others, and there's not even an axis for my spine to spin on, let alone an atmosphere for me to breathe. Maybe I have to do things for myself for a change. Maybe I have to be a prick. Maybe I have to be one of those kids who actually has enemies. Maybe, just maybe. I don't want to be ANY of that. I want to be me. I like me. "Me" is this:
- That person who is there for EVERYONE.
- That person who is willing to drop EVERYTHING for one person.
- That person whose life DOES revolve around other people.
- That person who, overall, tries so HARD to make life better for everyone but himself.
Okay. Sure. Maybe I'm not a godsend, but I am a good person, with nothing but good intentions in regards to my actions.
So maybe I'm a hopeless bitch, who doesn't see that his personality has nothing to do with being a good person, because that's what others would probably perceive him as, but perhaps that it just shouldn't exist. So if I do all this, it does nothing but cause "drama," "trouble," and overall depression, in which I don't show, because it causes more of the same ripples. Maybe I should be put on the "happy pill." But then again, maybe I should just forgive, forget, and get on with life once again, like I always do. Even though there's nothing to forgive, nothing to forget, and amazingly, I always get on with my life. How else do you think I made it through five years of thoughts only like...four people know about. Maybe if I didn't find a hobby that let me regress my thoughts as writing does, I wouldn't be here. "I wouldn't be here," has two different meanings: Either I would have just up and killed myself, or I would have moved when I was asked if I wanted to. I would have different friends, a different life, and a different situation -- but I'd still be the same fucking kid who tries too hard to be the character on your favorite television show or in your favorite novel -- the sweet, caring shoulder to cry on. So what's so wrong with being me? I'm not fictional, damnit. I'm non-fiction all the way through. So, believe that there are some people out there who do give a damn. And maybe if you think about it... you'll give a damn too.
"You and I both know that finding reason,
For a sudden drop of temperature is wrong.
So fire me,
Into oblivion,
And give me, this to believe in:
Just because this life isn't what I wanted,
It's still better than what I needed."
I know the world's never going to be perfect. There's always going to be feelings in the air and in people's thoughts; hatred, love, grief, anger, confusion, jealousy, war, peace, broken hearts, and mended hearts; positive and negative, both of them, spinning in a harmonic note that helps the world continue to function. I guess we all can't be happy, and I guess we all can't be sad. If we were all happy, we'd live forever, love forever, and the words "hate," "grief," "anger," "confusion," "jealousy," and "war," would have lines through them in the dictionary. If we were all sad, the world would be desolate, as every human being would either kill each other, or kill themselves.
"Help me, this storm is way too strong.
I'm being pulled under,
The waves crashing down,
And I can't hear the thunder.
I can't swim to the top,
And I can't hold my breath any longer.
I can't see the cautious sky,
I think I'm beginning to die."
Fuck a perfect world. Fuck a horrible world. I like it as it is, no matter how hard it's been through seventeen years, because within those seventeen years, there WAS and IS happy times. Good times. Wonderful times. Memories... And sure, there WAS and IS sad times. I've been through them, and continue to go through them. But just like everyone else in the world, right?
Exactly.
I like life, and I'm not going to let it fuck me up forever because of some things that people either experience also, or have no idea about. But no matter where their point stands, my point stands here on the chart:
In the middle of the beginning of a life I want to live; a life I WILL live.
I know I'm not alone, even if I'm the only one hurting right now from the certain cituation that inspired this "rant." I shouldn't be sorry because I still care, and I'm not over it yet, so I won't. But I also know I'll have some of the same friends I have now twenty years from now; I salute to this. There are just some people I know now that I never want to lose contact with, because deep, down inside, they're the same exact thing as I am:
THAT person.
...Even if they don't know it.
I would name them, but they already know who they are. Yeah, you do. Some may read this, and some will probably never catch a word I've written here. But that's perfectly fine, because they know.
Enough of that. Let's move on.
Tonight, I'm going to the Taste of Chaos tour tonight! w00t! It's going to be awesome. Who knew I would like The Used so much, or A Static Lullaby? I probably wouldn't have given them the light of day. Shame on me... I get to see Killswitch Engage too. Hmm, times like this are the happy ones. I'm pretty sure Tami is the one coming with me, which is, yes, cool. No biggie. Good friend, good person. Yeah, you're one of those people. ;) It'd be cool if Sabrina found a ticket, and let's go all out and say that Andrew and Eric hopefully found tickets as well; Jennifer, Lisa, Phoenix, Nikki, Melissa, Aaron, Trey, Stephanie, Allan, Chris, and Gordon, and even further, Steve, Hope, and the other Eric did too. Regardless, it's going to be fun...and awesome..because that's what I set the situation on.
Tomorrow, I don't know what I'm doing. I was supposed to go to some party, but I don't see that happening now because of... yeah. Maybe that still stands, if she asks for a ride. Or maybe I'll sit and dream; suffer and listen to my heart beat in silence. Or maybe I'll go out with some friends; laugh and listen to the lame jokes. Maybe I'll even ASK to go to work.
Sunday? Who knows?
Monday? Again, who knows?
Tuesday? Atreyu concert.
Right now? I'm gonna' get off the computer, cause I'm starting to write stuff that when I read, it hurts to read again. Inspiration in life? It's everywhere, but I guess the biggest inspirations are the ones you actually perceive... and care about.
Till next time... and yeah, I guess I'm all right.