(no subject)
Excerpt from "Her Journal".
I feel like writing endlessly, there is so much I want to say. I wish I could fill all these pages in one sitting...just spilling my thoughts until I ran dry. I would write about how vain I have become, how self-centered I can be. But I enjoy this new-found vanity, I feel confident, empowered. I would write about this constant struggle with myself, in a world where people try so hard to be individuals, just like everyone else. I would speak of drugs, and the wonderful but devastating things I have seen them do.
And all this speeds through my head in a second. Writing and words seem so clumsy at times. So inadequate and insuficient. Artificial and unpractical. Like trying to describe a rainbow to someone who sees only black and white.
And all this in a second. If only each word could expand so that each thought could fit inside and POP as you read it in your mind...
The brain to me is the most fascinating thing. To open and explore a mind, whether it be your own or that of another would be a journey too great to imagine. Yet to me, the mind is truly the only thing I fear. The only fear, in my opinion, that is concrete and a true threat. A freedom to one, a prison to another.
I think that's why I started this journal, this place. I say place because this no longer is a journal to me. It is a tiny place in time, captured, just a momment in my mind, a thought floating by caught and splashed onto paper. It is a fragment of who I am. I write it down to better know who I am. To ease my fear of my own mind.
But I write this in the dark, behind a screen, because if someone actually read this what would they see? Giving my journal to someone would be like giving them my soul. Scribble, scribble, blah, crazy girl. That's all they would see. I wish someone could see me. But you can't describe a rainbow if all you see is black and white.
My new project.♥
I feel like writing endlessly, there is so much I want to say. I wish I could fill all these pages in one sitting...just spilling my thoughts until I ran dry. I would write about how vain I have become, how self-centered I can be. But I enjoy this new-found vanity, I feel confident, empowered. I would write about this constant struggle with myself, in a world where people try so hard to be individuals, just like everyone else. I would speak of drugs, and the wonderful but devastating things I have seen them do.
And all this speeds through my head in a second. Writing and words seem so clumsy at times. So inadequate and insuficient. Artificial and unpractical. Like trying to describe a rainbow to someone who sees only black and white.
And all this in a second. If only each word could expand so that each thought could fit inside and POP as you read it in your mind...
The brain to me is the most fascinating thing. To open and explore a mind, whether it be your own or that of another would be a journey too great to imagine. Yet to me, the mind is truly the only thing I fear. The only fear, in my opinion, that is concrete and a true threat. A freedom to one, a prison to another.
I think that's why I started this journal, this place. I say place because this no longer is a journal to me. It is a tiny place in time, captured, just a momment in my mind, a thought floating by caught and splashed onto paper. It is a fragment of who I am. I write it down to better know who I am. To ease my fear of my own mind.
But I write this in the dark, behind a screen, because if someone actually read this what would they see? Giving my journal to someone would be like giving them my soul. Scribble, scribble, blah, crazy girl. That's all they would see. I wish someone could see me. But you can't describe a rainbow if all you see is black and white.
My new project.♥