(no subject)
my emotions are freakishly intense.
that sentence seems almost trivial, like it cant be all that bad. even i thought that as i wrote it. i mean im no different than anyone else so things cant be anymore overwhelming for me than the next person. maybe i have just created this world in my head as an excuse to be weak, to be vulnerable, to be free. the idea of my emotions being magnified every moment of everyday allowing me to see all of them, to experience them all without second guessing (as i feel many people do). i feel first, ask questions later (a ton of fucking questions) and because of that im an emotional bitch. things sting so bad, things i should be able to disregard can gut my day, watch it lay there alive and dead. that is how i spend most of my days, alive and dead. alive to stimulus, i feel everything and by feel i mean more than sense. the sun, the wind, the rain (esp. the rain) all spark real emotional reactions, and often ones that dont make much sense at all. yet it is because of those very moments that i live. the issue arrives in my need to hide that part of me from most people i know.
i have become little more than an M&M. what you see is nothing more than a colorful candy shell, vibrant, strong, and begging for attention. The real me, the richness of me, is chocolate. simple, powerful, dark, sexual, but hidden to those who havent taken the plunge. (im gonna stop this because i just reduced my entire personality into a snack. i find that disturbing.)
the plunge, like my unconscious is telling me there is something there, i cannot get those two words out of my head. i look away to the coke can on my desk, down to the mp3 player, the red pen, my left hand, and still no new thoughts. what is the plunge? probably nothing, or better yet something to which i will assign some left field meaning (ill be wrong) and therefore never trully devour the concept. if i were to make a guess, an educated guess that is, then my immediate response would be vulnerability. i need someone who can leave their life in my hands, knowing that im unstable, that im harsh, that my heart is fickle, and still look into my eyes. not because they trust me, not because they arent afraid of the outcome, but because they know that how they feel in that moment is worth the world.
i wonder if the world will ever be really free. i wonder if i will ever be able to walk down the street crying and still feel like a man. will this world ever realize that being real is more important than being powerful, rich, or even beautiful. i take that back, being real is beautiful.
i dont know why i started this and im not sure if i will ever finish it. you probably shoudnt be reading this anyways, you stalker you. i really dont care though, it is comforting knowing that people are reading this and i dont have to listen to a response. i can let my mind boil over and someone is there to soak it up without response. i like it that way.
in that last second i became engulfed with your thoughts. well, not really your thoughts, but my thoughts of what your thoughts might be as you read this stuff. i picture you, a different you each time, sitting behind a glowing screen, face tinted a soft blue, walking this mangled path. eyes wide, intense, or a soft smile and a chuckle, thinking this kid is effed up. yet, if you have come this far you are dedicated. thats what it takes with me dedication.
no spell check. no revision. grammar sucks. dont like it? blow me.
- Lost
that sentence seems almost trivial, like it cant be all that bad. even i thought that as i wrote it. i mean im no different than anyone else so things cant be anymore overwhelming for me than the next person. maybe i have just created this world in my head as an excuse to be weak, to be vulnerable, to be free. the idea of my emotions being magnified every moment of everyday allowing me to see all of them, to experience them all without second guessing (as i feel many people do). i feel first, ask questions later (a ton of fucking questions) and because of that im an emotional bitch. things sting so bad, things i should be able to disregard can gut my day, watch it lay there alive and dead. that is how i spend most of my days, alive and dead. alive to stimulus, i feel everything and by feel i mean more than sense. the sun, the wind, the rain (esp. the rain) all spark real emotional reactions, and often ones that dont make much sense at all. yet it is because of those very moments that i live. the issue arrives in my need to hide that part of me from most people i know.
i have become little more than an M&M. what you see is nothing more than a colorful candy shell, vibrant, strong, and begging for attention. The real me, the richness of me, is chocolate. simple, powerful, dark, sexual, but hidden to those who havent taken the plunge. (im gonna stop this because i just reduced my entire personality into a snack. i find that disturbing.)
the plunge, like my unconscious is telling me there is something there, i cannot get those two words out of my head. i look away to the coke can on my desk, down to the mp3 player, the red pen, my left hand, and still no new thoughts. what is the plunge? probably nothing, or better yet something to which i will assign some left field meaning (ill be wrong) and therefore never trully devour the concept. if i were to make a guess, an educated guess that is, then my immediate response would be vulnerability. i need someone who can leave their life in my hands, knowing that im unstable, that im harsh, that my heart is fickle, and still look into my eyes. not because they trust me, not because they arent afraid of the outcome, but because they know that how they feel in that moment is worth the world.
i wonder if the world will ever be really free. i wonder if i will ever be able to walk down the street crying and still feel like a man. will this world ever realize that being real is more important than being powerful, rich, or even beautiful. i take that back, being real is beautiful.
i dont know why i started this and im not sure if i will ever finish it. you probably shoudnt be reading this anyways, you stalker you. i really dont care though, it is comforting knowing that people are reading this and i dont have to listen to a response. i can let my mind boil over and someone is there to soak it up without response. i like it that way.
in that last second i became engulfed with your thoughts. well, not really your thoughts, but my thoughts of what your thoughts might be as you read this stuff. i picture you, a different you each time, sitting behind a glowing screen, face tinted a soft blue, walking this mangled path. eyes wide, intense, or a soft smile and a chuckle, thinking this kid is effed up. yet, if you have come this far you are dedicated. thats what it takes with me dedication.
no spell check. no revision. grammar sucks. dont like it? blow me.
- Lost