(Untitled)

Nov 25, 2002 18:59

Updating livejournal. Smoking in my room in clear violation of treaties made previously with myself. We are full of surprises, most of them disappointing. Today there was a fight on my bus. Three people boarded, two men, one woman. I was immediately struck with the impression that they had been carefully transplanted from my home county of ( Read more... )

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anon anonymous December 5 2002, 21:54:14 UTC
The world is sick. I understand that. What I don't understand is why there are people who can recognize it, and wallow in it's misery and make that misery their own. They seem to understand the sickness better than other people do. They are the one's who are in a constant state of analyzing, not only of themselves and their unending foibles, weaknesses, pains, and occasionally, their triumphs, but those of the rest of the world as well. Sometimes I think that there's no fucking way that the rest of humanity can feel things as strongly as I do, because that sort of power would destroy the universe. Self-centered much? I know. But really...because then there are those who seem not so aware of the ugliness, or the beauty for that matter. I mean, I can be numb, but that is just a product of feeling too much too often. It's different. And I am starting to sound as though I feel superior to other people. That's not what I'm going for either-All I'm trying to say is that I get a certain feeling when I talk to people. There are certain levels of understanding that you share with your peers, and it has very very little to do with how smart you are, but rather, how you think. Ya dig? And I think we trick ourselves all the time into thinking that we know what we need to be and do. We justify actions that we know should have been done differently. We tell ourselves that, hey, that person is perfect for us, when probably, you've just begun weaving this intricate entanglement of exaggerations around some person's looks and personality in order to create an impossible dream of love that you've dreamt of since you could differentiate girls from boys. You most likely don't even like this person. But you either become too attatched or scared or insecure to leave, or you work out a little plot where the characters love eachother, and you take refuge in those lies because with that one pesky relationship thing out of the way, you can supposedly get on with the rest of your life. Well, fuck it. I'm gonna stop writing now. All I know is that you and me, we're the same in a lotta ways, that's all.

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Re: anon the_nick December 6 2002, 23:39:47 UTC
yeah, so it seems, but who are you? Curiousity nibbles at me like a hive of fire ants.

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Re: anon anonymous December 7 2002, 21:50:57 UTC
I can't tell you. Fun, though, huh? Just update your goddam journal once in a while, will ya, so I have something to look forward to!

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