Hmmm.....
I think my mood says so much right now. Contemplative. About a whole bunch of things.
-------------------------------------------------------
(Self-Guided Magical (?) Mystery Tour)
Gone.
To understand the physical meaning
Of a word so huge
Is inappropriate to ponder.
Gone.
It could be emotional
Sympathy drained, tears run their course.
A river of attitude and regret, captive in my pillow.
Gone.
It could be physical.
Never to see someone again
"Going Ghost" seems to remain accurately descriptive.
Gone.
It could be mental.
Random thoughts firing through an empty chasm.
All the lights on, but I'm not home.
The rain has a peculiar scent
When it hits hot blacktop.
As the road stretch out before me
My journey is only beginning.
Gone.
It seems to be
The most appropriate description for me, right now.
I'll be in touch; don't try to follow.
This path I walk alone.
---------------------------------------------------
Contemplative seems to pale, now that I dwell on it. Unfulfilled. Wanting a purpose, lacking a drive.
Why do I even bother writing in this fucking thing anymore.
The minimal audience that reads it understands my writings. It's not like anyone new ever stumbles onto the journal.
Why do I even bother anymore? With everything?
Everyone asks how've I been. Everyone wants to know. Wants to get under my skin, know my brain, get in my head and not leave. I don't want you to know. I don't want anyone to know. Why does everyone get so upset that I don't want to share my dark feelings?
If you want me as your group clown, as the happy person I've been, then fine. If you can't help but feel awkward if you see a serious glint in my eye, that's fine too. But don't patronize my friendship with your "understanding" when all you do is compare me to some ridiculous standard that you have in your head of how things should be.
I am a nice person. I am a good guy. I treat people like royalty, even when they shit all over me. It doesn't matter that they may have broken my heart, trashed my spirit, and left me an emotional cripple on the side of the road. It doesn't matter that they won't actually listen to what I say, instead thinking that"no" means that they have to try harder. It doesn't matter that I hear jokes made at my expense about women and my mindset.
What matters is that I make you laugh. I make you smile. I crack a joke, put on this mantle of being crude like I'm expected to, and I provide the entertainment for the evening.
You know why I don't let but a few people see what's inside my mind? What dark, almost midnight black things my thoughts possess on an almost daily basis now? Because, quite frankly, no one should have to bear that burden but me. Everyone else's lives are fantastic; I do not feel as though burdening others with these problems would actually help them get solved. The usual line of advice I'm given: "Wow...uh....I don't know what to tell you, man." Well, that makes two of us, because I don't know what to think.
I don't know how to act. I don't know how to feel. Every attempt I've made since I've tried to put the pieces of my life back together has been a horrible grasp at near-sanity. Ultimately, I think I think I cause it to be a failure. I am an attention glutton, but only clamor for those not interested, or already taken. I am a nice guy; too often, I am taken advantage of by those who have nothing but their own interests in mind. "What, you wanted a date? Oh...(awkward pause)...well, you're a great guy, and such nice person..and a great friend...but I just never thought of us that way. We'll definitely stay in touch though. By the way...could you give me a ride... print this out for me ...(insert other favors here)"...and then never call me back. I can take hints, thick as I am. I can understand the silent ways of communication exist. So why keep trying?
I am unattractive. I am a gargoyle. I understand that now. I will not go as far as to say that I have been slated to go through life alone. But without meeting new people, and without any sudden possibilities in the near future among those people I know...I think it remains unspoken. "Don't worry, you'll meet someone when you least expect it." That's all fine and good...but what about when someone needs it?
But.
Were I to let that sit as a finished entry, that would be wrong. I think I have beautiful eyes. I think I have a beautiful mind and outlook on life. I'm a funloving, great person. I'm a huge nerd who loves and knows comic books like no other. I am chivalrous, and would bend over backwards for a girl simply on principle. I know that whatever girl I end up with who I like and who likes me back will be fantastic for me. That may not happen soon, but it's reason enough to keep trying.
I know I'm awesome. It's reason enough that I can get up every morning. If people don't want to give me a chance, fuck 'em. That's my feeling on that.
Here's something I wrote a while back. I think it helps to clarify things. Don't worry, I'm ok. At least....I think I will be.
--------------------------------
(Message in a Mason Jar)
My rage knows no bounds
Fury unrelenting
Like the stormy sea
It ebbs and flow.
Everything red.
Blood pounding in my ears
As my last final pleas
Get caught in my throat.
Speech falters
All while my heart
Races on
A million miles a second.
Thrust my hand out
A final grasp
My grip closes tightly
On nothing but air.
So much lost
As I lay broken
But the coals, the embers inside
Burn hotter than ever.
Relighting my fire
Fusing my wounds
Picking me up where I've stumbled
As I feel the lava flow in my veins.
For the first time
I can control the hurt
Focus the pain
And cast it aside.
I am its master
Not all consuming as before
But as a memory
Called forth to check reality.
I am no victim
No piece of garbage to be discarded
Nothing easily shattered
I am uniquely beautiful in my own way.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
But what about the beheld?
First regarding themselves as beautiful
To be appreciated by others.
And like the sea
I'm calm again.
My mental whitecaps replaced
By smooth, rippling shimmers
And at last
I can smile
And breath once again.
----------------------------------------------
End transmission.
-------------------------------------------------------
(Self-Guided Magical (?) Mystery Tour)
Gone.
To understand the physical meaning
Of a word so huge
Is inappropriate to ponder.
Gone.
It could be emotional
Sympathy drained, tears run their course.
A river of attitude and regret, captive in my pillow.
Gone.
It could be physical.
Never to see someone again
"Going Ghost" seems to remain accurately descriptive.
Gone.
It could be mental.
Random thoughts firing through an empty chasm.
All the lights on, but I'm not home.
The rain has a peculiar scent
When it hits hot blacktop.
As the road stretch out before me
My journey is only beginning.
Gone.
It seems to be
The most appropriate description for me, right now.
I'll be in touch; don't try to follow.
This path I walk alone.
---------------------------------------------------
Contemplative seems to pale, now that I dwell on it. Unfulfilled. Wanting a purpose, lacking a drive.
Why do I even bother writing in this fucking thing anymore.
The minimal audience that reads it understands my writings. It's not like anyone new ever stumbles onto the journal.
Why do I even bother anymore? With everything?
Everyone asks how've I been. Everyone wants to know. Wants to get under my skin, know my brain, get in my head and not leave. I don't want you to know. I don't want anyone to know. Why does everyone get so upset that I don't want to share my dark feelings?
If you want me as your group clown, as the happy person I've been, then fine. If you can't help but feel awkward if you see a serious glint in my eye, that's fine too. But don't patronize my friendship with your "understanding" when all you do is compare me to some ridiculous standard that you have in your head of how things should be.
I am a nice person. I am a good guy. I treat people like royalty, even when they shit all over me. It doesn't matter that they may have broken my heart, trashed my spirit, and left me an emotional cripple on the side of the road. It doesn't matter that they won't actually listen to what I say, instead thinking that"no" means that they have to try harder. It doesn't matter that I hear jokes made at my expense about women and my mindset.
What matters is that I make you laugh. I make you smile. I crack a joke, put on this mantle of being crude like I'm expected to, and I provide the entertainment for the evening.
You know why I don't let but a few people see what's inside my mind? What dark, almost midnight black things my thoughts possess on an almost daily basis now? Because, quite frankly, no one should have to bear that burden but me. Everyone else's lives are fantastic; I do not feel as though burdening others with these problems would actually help them get solved. The usual line of advice I'm given: "Wow...uh....I don't know what to tell you, man." Well, that makes two of us, because I don't know what to think.
I don't know how to act. I don't know how to feel. Every attempt I've made since I've tried to put the pieces of my life back together has been a horrible grasp at near-sanity. Ultimately, I think I think I cause it to be a failure. I am an attention glutton, but only clamor for those not interested, or already taken. I am a nice guy; too often, I am taken advantage of by those who have nothing but their own interests in mind. "What, you wanted a date? Oh...(awkward pause)...well, you're a great guy, and such nice person..and a great friend...but I just never thought of us that way. We'll definitely stay in touch though. By the way...could you give me a ride... print this out for me ...(insert other favors here)"...and then never call me back. I can take hints, thick as I am. I can understand the silent ways of communication exist. So why keep trying?
I am unattractive. I am a gargoyle. I understand that now. I will not go as far as to say that I have been slated to go through life alone. But without meeting new people, and without any sudden possibilities in the near future among those people I know...I think it remains unspoken. "Don't worry, you'll meet someone when you least expect it." That's all fine and good...but what about when someone needs it?
But.
Were I to let that sit as a finished entry, that would be wrong. I think I have beautiful eyes. I think I have a beautiful mind and outlook on life. I'm a funloving, great person. I'm a huge nerd who loves and knows comic books like no other. I am chivalrous, and would bend over backwards for a girl simply on principle. I know that whatever girl I end up with who I like and who likes me back will be fantastic for me. That may not happen soon, but it's reason enough to keep trying.
I know I'm awesome. It's reason enough that I can get up every morning. If people don't want to give me a chance, fuck 'em. That's my feeling on that.
Here's something I wrote a while back. I think it helps to clarify things. Don't worry, I'm ok. At least....I think I will be.
--------------------------------
(Message in a Mason Jar)
My rage knows no bounds
Fury unrelenting
Like the stormy sea
It ebbs and flow.
Everything red.
Blood pounding in my ears
As my last final pleas
Get caught in my throat.
Speech falters
All while my heart
Races on
A million miles a second.
Thrust my hand out
A final grasp
My grip closes tightly
On nothing but air.
So much lost
As I lay broken
But the coals, the embers inside
Burn hotter than ever.
Relighting my fire
Fusing my wounds
Picking me up where I've stumbled
As I feel the lava flow in my veins.
For the first time
I can control the hurt
Focus the pain
And cast it aside.
I am its master
Not all consuming as before
But as a memory
Called forth to check reality.
I am no victim
No piece of garbage to be discarded
Nothing easily shattered
I am uniquely beautiful in my own way.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
But what about the beheld?
First regarding themselves as beautiful
To be appreciated by others.
And like the sea
I'm calm again.
My mental whitecaps replaced
By smooth, rippling shimmers
And at last
I can smile
And breath once again.
----------------------------------------------
End transmission.