Imagine you as me and I'll tell you, just what I'm thinking...
WARNING: If you don't care what I think about at 4 a.m. after nights of not sleeping, than please leave. This is just a random excerpt from my notebook from a few days ago. I occasionaly find my thoughts interesting and wish to share them, if you wish to read than enjoy, if not than thank you and have a nice die.(i hope you die)
Imagination. Sometimes its too real to ignore. Sometimes its to great to ignore. My life is slowly turning into my imagination. My reality is nothing bu duldrums in the Sea of Unrest. Reality does in fact bite. Casual sex, casual drugs, casual life. Live when you feel like it. Die when you don't. Heaven is our own personal utopia, there is no God or supreme being. Hell is full of fear, wants, and needs. Hell the is real world. But fear not, because there is a solution. The mind can often times create images, ideas, etc. in such real ways, that the reality of the situation is, we don't know what is real and what isn't. My fantasies have become so perfect, so me, that I can't help but constantly wander into them. The whole idea seems crazy. In fact, I'm sure it'd be a good definition of of crazy. When one cannot tell fact from fantasy. But this is such a subliminal state. No one in that situation would ever call themselves crazy. They are perfectly sane, they are choosing eternal bliss in a world full of shit. Ignorance=bliss. A man locked up in a padded room thinks he is really an American under cover agent trying to topple communists in Russia. It's what he has always wanted to be, a great spy. And now he is. Is it better to know, or think you know? It's an unanswerable question because no one can see both sides equally. No one can see the beauty that each must offer. I used to think badly of ignorance. I used to think true, factual, provable knowledge was everything. Am I being a hypocrite? Do I want knowledge or happiness? I used to think I could have both. Then I realized, I either know the truth of the situation or the situation makes me happy. Either or, never both. The whole thing is mental suicide.
You can't have imagination and knowledge. Knowledge puts an end to daydreams. Frued said something about it in a book I have. Children(who would be considered unknowledgable) daydream, while adults(the knowledgable) do not. They are made to think it evil. When in fact they couldn't be farther from the truth. My daydreaming, my thoughts make me happier(therefore not evil) than anything. My imagination world is continuously making it harder for me to coexist in this real world. My days are distracted by thoughts and visions, my nights are intolerable. I don't sleep. My mind sits and processes thousands of thoughts and hundreds of dreams, and if I'm lucky enough to fall asleep for long enough to enter that deep sleep/dream state, I can then see my dreams come ever more to life. How sick am I?
This has a lot to do with my "I Wish I Was Locked in a Small White Room" peom I wrote a while ago. I can never put anything into words. Everything I see, do, experience, think, or just pass by. It's all lost forever. I have neither the ability or intelligence to record it properly. How can I change that? It's 4 am and my vision is blurry. The moth that was flying around me lap is gone. It was white. It was beautiful. Beautifully ignorant in this hell infested universe. I have little more to talk about now.
Imagination. Sometimes its too real to ignore. Sometimes its to great to ignore. My life is slowly turning into my imagination. My reality is nothing bu duldrums in the Sea of Unrest. Reality does in fact bite. Casual sex, casual drugs, casual life. Live when you feel like it. Die when you don't. Heaven is our own personal utopia, there is no God or supreme being. Hell is full of fear, wants, and needs. Hell the is real world. But fear not, because there is a solution. The mind can often times create images, ideas, etc. in such real ways, that the reality of the situation is, we don't know what is real and what isn't. My fantasies have become so perfect, so me, that I can't help but constantly wander into them. The whole idea seems crazy. In fact, I'm sure it'd be a good definition of of crazy. When one cannot tell fact from fantasy. But this is such a subliminal state. No one in that situation would ever call themselves crazy. They are perfectly sane, they are choosing eternal bliss in a world full of shit. Ignorance=bliss. A man locked up in a padded room thinks he is really an American under cover agent trying to topple communists in Russia. It's what he has always wanted to be, a great spy. And now he is. Is it better to know, or think you know? It's an unanswerable question because no one can see both sides equally. No one can see the beauty that each must offer. I used to think badly of ignorance. I used to think true, factual, provable knowledge was everything. Am I being a hypocrite? Do I want knowledge or happiness? I used to think I could have both. Then I realized, I either know the truth of the situation or the situation makes me happy. Either or, never both. The whole thing is mental suicide.
You can't have imagination and knowledge. Knowledge puts an end to daydreams. Frued said something about it in a book I have. Children(who would be considered unknowledgable) daydream, while adults(the knowledgable) do not. They are made to think it evil. When in fact they couldn't be farther from the truth. My daydreaming, my thoughts make me happier(therefore not evil) than anything. My imagination world is continuously making it harder for me to coexist in this real world. My days are distracted by thoughts and visions, my nights are intolerable. I don't sleep. My mind sits and processes thousands of thoughts and hundreds of dreams, and if I'm lucky enough to fall asleep for long enough to enter that deep sleep/dream state, I can then see my dreams come ever more to life. How sick am I?
This has a lot to do with my "I Wish I Was Locked in a Small White Room" peom I wrote a while ago. I can never put anything into words. Everything I see, do, experience, think, or just pass by. It's all lost forever. I have neither the ability or intelligence to record it properly. How can I change that? It's 4 am and my vision is blurry. The moth that was flying around me lap is gone. It was white. It was beautiful. Beautifully ignorant in this hell infested universe. I have little more to talk about now.