somebody
"It's always the fallen ones that I think are gonna save me."
-Third Eye Blind
I always wonder when I go from completely disliking cds to really enjoying them... Certain ones, certain lyrics. Maybe afraid of a self-transition.
I am going to reinvent the English language. And maybe the French one.
Isn't that so self-empowering? To control the way people communicate. Or just alter it. Or provide a better way.
Sometimes poetry in words is sufficient though, at others it is entirely lacking, but for my life right now it is done justice. I live no deeper than words. At least that gives me some options.
I only feel like writing right now. I've been scrawling poetry for weeks in a comotose state in class while trying to fight off irrational meloncholy. I hate that word more than I hate typing cauliflower. And I hate spelling. But yes, in between the tears that fall at night when I rip myself apart using the small stabs others have taken throughout the day to enhance my wounds, it is there that I become introspective and trick myself into thinking that is time well spent. I have no motivation anymore, I feel guilty for quitting physics because I didn't need it and just like I could convince myself that God is spiting me if I believed enough lies, I could view every bit of apathy as the degeneration of myself as a whole. I could watch every argument, disagreement, low mark, and brush off as a simple reflection of my failures as a whole and the revelation that sometimes it is better not to try. I have chosen to fade away rather than burn out and for that I will pay the consequences. I sit and worry but it seems as though there is no way to control anything, all slips and scratches itself against me like tree banches in fall. And now I am reaching to show this without cliches and phrases that make a person cringe from its trite aspects. I thought last night, that it all feels more like sandpaper. And I'm moving against it, trying to break through when I could just walk away and fare much better. But I'm ignorant and stubborn and I've lost my way back. I don't think there is a way to turn around.
So much more I could be doing. I check off my to-do list like the tasks were accomplishments of the century. The 'we are sorry to inform you' letters from scholarship foundations are testimonies that they are not, and never have been.
I would share poetry on here though I know it would be annoying. I know people would scroll past it the way I do to others when I'm in a hurry. Except maybe Hollie since she's majoring in it and all.
What can you do? These are the days I live in, this is the fastest life has ever gone for me and yet I have no direction for the first time in three years. Maybe four. I never thought I'd leave high school doubting if I'd been wholly edified moreso than when I entered it. Of course, years at this age do nothing for the intergrity, I don't know why I thought they would but I can't get into that or else I'd curse myself for the inclinations that I am always prone to the the numbness I have always been accustomed to. I wish things shocked me. I wish it took incidents short of holocausts to appal me. I suppose some people would call it tolerence, they'd say I allow freedom and rights for myself and those around me by not taking a stance. I had a stance, it had a lot of flaws. I still have opinions but I suppose when it comes down to it your life is yours (profound, no?). And your decisions are only meaningful and lasting if they are your own. Discoveries and revelations, land gained in this life, must be personal. Maybe I can point you in a certain direction, maybe it'd be better for me not to, maybe you'd find it anyways. I didn't not think this way for a couple of years but instances have shown me there are many ways to find the same thing. Truth. (Do I sound like social class yet? "There are many roads to socialism" hooray Brezhnev, or whoever it was)
I'm not talking about pluralism. I may be talking about fundamentalism but not pointing any fingers. I could be complaining about the hollow structure of organized religion again but... more or less, I'm just talking about myself, as always.
Anyways, I'm optimistic. Some things have not gone the way I thought they would and if I think about them too long I will feel worse about myself... So I won't. I'm not even going to try and fix it, I can't where I am or where I'm going to be. I'll just go on.
"It didn't count for anything."
-Third Eye Blind
I always wonder when I go from completely disliking cds to really enjoying them... Certain ones, certain lyrics. Maybe afraid of a self-transition.
I am going to reinvent the English language. And maybe the French one.
Isn't that so self-empowering? To control the way people communicate. Or just alter it. Or provide a better way.
Sometimes poetry in words is sufficient though, at others it is entirely lacking, but for my life right now it is done justice. I live no deeper than words. At least that gives me some options.
I only feel like writing right now. I've been scrawling poetry for weeks in a comotose state in class while trying to fight off irrational meloncholy. I hate that word more than I hate typing cauliflower. And I hate spelling. But yes, in between the tears that fall at night when I rip myself apart using the small stabs others have taken throughout the day to enhance my wounds, it is there that I become introspective and trick myself into thinking that is time well spent. I have no motivation anymore, I feel guilty for quitting physics because I didn't need it and just like I could convince myself that God is spiting me if I believed enough lies, I could view every bit of apathy as the degeneration of myself as a whole. I could watch every argument, disagreement, low mark, and brush off as a simple reflection of my failures as a whole and the revelation that sometimes it is better not to try. I have chosen to fade away rather than burn out and for that I will pay the consequences. I sit and worry but it seems as though there is no way to control anything, all slips and scratches itself against me like tree banches in fall. And now I am reaching to show this without cliches and phrases that make a person cringe from its trite aspects. I thought last night, that it all feels more like sandpaper. And I'm moving against it, trying to break through when I could just walk away and fare much better. But I'm ignorant and stubborn and I've lost my way back. I don't think there is a way to turn around.
So much more I could be doing. I check off my to-do list like the tasks were accomplishments of the century. The 'we are sorry to inform you' letters from scholarship foundations are testimonies that they are not, and never have been.
I would share poetry on here though I know it would be annoying. I know people would scroll past it the way I do to others when I'm in a hurry. Except maybe Hollie since she's majoring in it and all.
What can you do? These are the days I live in, this is the fastest life has ever gone for me and yet I have no direction for the first time in three years. Maybe four. I never thought I'd leave high school doubting if I'd been wholly edified moreso than when I entered it. Of course, years at this age do nothing for the intergrity, I don't know why I thought they would but I can't get into that or else I'd curse myself for the inclinations that I am always prone to the the numbness I have always been accustomed to. I wish things shocked me. I wish it took incidents short of holocausts to appal me. I suppose some people would call it tolerence, they'd say I allow freedom and rights for myself and those around me by not taking a stance. I had a stance, it had a lot of flaws. I still have opinions but I suppose when it comes down to it your life is yours (profound, no?). And your decisions are only meaningful and lasting if they are your own. Discoveries and revelations, land gained in this life, must be personal. Maybe I can point you in a certain direction, maybe it'd be better for me not to, maybe you'd find it anyways. I didn't not think this way for a couple of years but instances have shown me there are many ways to find the same thing. Truth. (Do I sound like social class yet? "There are many roads to socialism" hooray Brezhnev, or whoever it was)
I'm not talking about pluralism. I may be talking about fundamentalism but not pointing any fingers. I could be complaining about the hollow structure of organized religion again but... more or less, I'm just talking about myself, as always.
Anyways, I'm optimistic. Some things have not gone the way I thought they would and if I think about them too long I will feel worse about myself... So I won't. I'm not even going to try and fix it, I can't where I am or where I'm going to be. I'll just go on.
"It didn't count for anything."