(no subject)
i stepped out with a stomach full of anxiety. Things always get distorted when you start getting preoccupied with what people's opinions of you are, people disappear in my mind for a second and worry goes with it. That shit is just plain distarcting and pointless, noone has risen above anything by worring and questioning the self. Once you stop caring what people think of you, everything gets clear. You need to have your head in the right place. You need to be efficient. Find yourself a home, somewhere in your mind, where you can focus and return to step one. As I walk these streets I care not what is out there, my car is waiting for me on the sidestreet. Ignition, and off goes the radio spitting out what corporate america chews for me. I've been on edge for days, months, years, probally since the first time. I clear my mind before "it" can recollect how fucked everything was and how small I was back then. Am i still? Fuck. I read somewhere that sanity is like the tottering of a see-saw and how one can feel sanity, just is; like when the world was flat. At times everything fits in the proper square. Then suddenly, you are noone and nothing and everything you ever had is taken from you in a chain of destroying events. Such is life, I try to downplay it all. This circumstance is the direct effect of genetics, upbringing, drug usage, and just about anything that you could possibly put in the pot and cook. I find it hard sometimes to think how I would be without "this" because it leaves such horrible scars. Anyways, like I was saying I'm in my car smoking a cigerette and Im going to school. The thing about it all is that I have, I believe, lived the worst of it. Now all i need to do is make up for the time I have lost with a positive state of mind and shit loads of effort. I still have fun but fun has new meaning for me, drugs are behind me and it just so happens that in the direction I am facing life is directly ahead. Im 27 and the echo of my ex girlfriend tells me that I am failure but I know better than that, I have been through so much to ever think like that. At times I sulk but my outlook is polished into a luster that is hard for me to not see something shiny. The drive to school takes roughly tweenty minutes, I dont speed anymore. In retrospect I wonder what the rush was, There was never really anything going on that was that urgent a matter. I like to draw, I have been drawing for most of my life and I see the progress I have made. Give me something good, I think, as I look for the proper station. I was reading that sirius, the satelitte radio in my car, has honed their stations into something that plays less generic noise with programming that would make an independent music store owner content with corporate effort. Play me something unexpected, something that's not the current next big thing. The wise old up-aboves have learned that good music, regardless of the genre is big business. So, I am almost conform with the track listings of the left of center station my radio is hard set to pry itself from. Fuck man, I actually heard two moldy peaches songs so far on the station, yes, I'm keeping track. I should'nt complain ofcourse since I believe you can request whatever the hell you want to listen to, I still do ofcourse. I'm picky but I have my weaknesses. T.a.t.u, jars of clay, britney spears, shit, shit, and more shit. I like listening to things like that sometimes but it is never fullfilling, its like eating candy. Pop is candy, like chocolate, it deteriates your teeth. Not to be taken in large doses as recomended by the surgeon general. Yea, I mean, shit; chocolate is like sex to some but I love steak to much. Maybe as a kid Pop would surely be my guide but now when you are having hunger pains steak and eggs is like sex with natalie portman. Ok. there, you made me say it. I park my car in the lot and I get my book bag from the car. Put the locks on and scurry of to class. I start listening to the conversation taking place between the teacher and several of my peers. It seems that someone had their Ipod stolen right from their purse, now get this, she was wearing the purse. How odd. It's scary how good people get at crime, organized or whatnot. It's so much easier when one has a false sense of security.