Just sitting there
So, Journal… seems like you still exist. Well, I made you, but… I’m not sure what you are good for. Do I tell you something I don’t tell myself? No. I just tell you things as if I tell them to the public, or some public that supposedly finds you and reads you. Just the opposite in fact, I don’t tell you almost anything I tell myself. I barely tell you anything I would like to tell you, I merely keep indulging in the thoughts of what you are, like now. Although I AM surprised at how I do tell you some things that some time ago I would feel shocked to have discovered I told someone at all, they seem to be almost easy now. I only tell you some edited truths, in some kind of an artistic tone, and when I do, I won’t even perfect them to save my life. I keep you full of flaws. Well, just like anything, you were created out of some purpose, some goal that had to be filled, some void, which made you what you are.
Seems like every thing is created relatively to everything else. Pain creates beauty. Comfort and happiness create indulgence and nothingness. Beauty creates pain. Having a goal in mind and redundant obstacles in the way, causes you to be creative and gradually creates you, evokes some primal enjoyment of solving things, makes you sometime even question whether you want to reach your goal or never reach it. I would always like the drive, I used to be a little disappointed if we arrived to the destination. But that’s because on the way I would be left being, nothing to do, no need to walk. When you arrive you want to go back to sleep. But that’s just because of my tiredness and everything else, but I think it’s all connected. Of course now I prefer to arrive more. Well, I always did, but, anyway, I’m straying away as always.
It’s the easiest thing to be me. I only have a basic layer. I don’t have fake soothing layers above, that make me seem better than someone else in an intimidating way. I’m basic. But I didn’t come from nowhere. Sometimes there are people that you can look at their face, and almost see a reflection of the landscapes they’ve been in front of. Or am I thinking of imaginary people. And, imaginary landscapes. Do they put the strong souls in the humans that are born in hard places? Or do those difficulties create those beautiful people? Is their strength their beauty?
BAISCally, there could be no problems, no obstacles, would there be people? Would there be attractive people? Do some people want to be with their opposite because then the difference can be seen? The creation will not cease from happening? I think in a way, if we have to be what we are relatively to something, then this is choosing to be something relatively to something small instead of becoming someone relatively to everything. It’s one hell of a winning if you think about it. Jumping over the frontier of staying where you are with what gives you some feeling of meaning, and of open horizons of becoming who you really are.
Well, journal, I’m filling you with old simple thoughts again. When thinking of all the good things that can be, which I can do thanks to my infinite imagination, I do want only to arrive. Arriving at somewhere is always starting another journey anyway.
Seems like every thing is created relatively to everything else. Pain creates beauty. Comfort and happiness create indulgence and nothingness. Beauty creates pain. Having a goal in mind and redundant obstacles in the way, causes you to be creative and gradually creates you, evokes some primal enjoyment of solving things, makes you sometime even question whether you want to reach your goal or never reach it. I would always like the drive, I used to be a little disappointed if we arrived to the destination. But that’s because on the way I would be left being, nothing to do, no need to walk. When you arrive you want to go back to sleep. But that’s just because of my tiredness and everything else, but I think it’s all connected. Of course now I prefer to arrive more. Well, I always did, but, anyway, I’m straying away as always.
It’s the easiest thing to be me. I only have a basic layer. I don’t have fake soothing layers above, that make me seem better than someone else in an intimidating way. I’m basic. But I didn’t come from nowhere. Sometimes there are people that you can look at their face, and almost see a reflection of the landscapes they’ve been in front of. Or am I thinking of imaginary people. And, imaginary landscapes. Do they put the strong souls in the humans that are born in hard places? Or do those difficulties create those beautiful people? Is their strength their beauty?
BAISCally, there could be no problems, no obstacles, would there be people? Would there be attractive people? Do some people want to be with their opposite because then the difference can be seen? The creation will not cease from happening? I think in a way, if we have to be what we are relatively to something, then this is choosing to be something relatively to something small instead of becoming someone relatively to everything. It’s one hell of a winning if you think about it. Jumping over the frontier of staying where you are with what gives you some feeling of meaning, and of open horizons of becoming who you really are.
Well, journal, I’m filling you with old simple thoughts again. When thinking of all the good things that can be, which I can do thanks to my infinite imagination, I do want only to arrive. Arriving at somewhere is always starting another journey anyway.