(no subject)
Wow. I've been on Myspace so much that I've hardly been on here. I mean, let's face it. Getting messages and comments on myspace is easy and consistent... but in the end, I kinda like my meandering rants/confessions/speeches to no one on here. Like speaking into a forest with no one to hear but myself, but also the possibility that someone might find my words...
"Words dazzle and deceive because they are mimed by the face. But black words on a white page are the soul laid bare." Myspace is just another face for everyone to put on...
So yea. I dont know what's going on with me. There are so many feelings, and sometimes the lack of them, and then there are the thoughts I try to get clear and straight, but they kinda just float around in my head, especially after a full day of work. I'm left with hardly any energy. But if it wasn't work it'd be something else...someone else...someplace else...
I don't want to write or play music sometimes because it seems there's so much already out there... it's like being in New York City. How can you feel like you matter with so many other people around? It's a shitty thing to say but it's true. How can you feel you have anything important to write down when you're in Barnes and Noble? Once I get past this...once I figure out the answer or someone tells it to me... then I'll probably be a lot more motivated...this is truly a hinderance. But where did those innate reasons go, those sensations my heart used to feel when I was young? Young not in age, but in heart and mind? Those sensations that made me want to write it all down, to photograph it all... now I feel so idle... like an engine struggling, giving up, to turn over... I hope things do not end this way.
"Words dazzle and deceive because they are mimed by the face. But black words on a white page are the soul laid bare." Myspace is just another face for everyone to put on...
So yea. I dont know what's going on with me. There are so many feelings, and sometimes the lack of them, and then there are the thoughts I try to get clear and straight, but they kinda just float around in my head, especially after a full day of work. I'm left with hardly any energy. But if it wasn't work it'd be something else...someone else...someplace else...
I don't want to write or play music sometimes because it seems there's so much already out there... it's like being in New York City. How can you feel like you matter with so many other people around? It's a shitty thing to say but it's true. How can you feel you have anything important to write down when you're in Barnes and Noble? Once I get past this...once I figure out the answer or someone tells it to me... then I'll probably be a lot more motivated...this is truly a hinderance. But where did those innate reasons go, those sensations my heart used to feel when I was young? Young not in age, but in heart and mind? Those sensations that made me want to write it all down, to photograph it all... now I feel so idle... like an engine struggling, giving up, to turn over... I hope things do not end this way.