22 January 2007

Lack

Everything is dreary today, with the Unicloud pumping out tiny flakes of snow. It threatens to kill us all if we don't do it ourselves. And we are, slowly, depriving our minds and souls of any possible Joy with our petty
(in)differences. Stick in the mud: that's what You are. He came last night and I now know how impossible it is going to be to find the happiness that I'm searching for. It isn't something that searching will find, because it can't be found. Wandering the bad neighborhoods in my mind, in the streets. This place really is a reflection of what has been going on (since I became old enough to realize that something was going on). The many times wondering "is that so much to ask?", silence answering that Yes It Is too much. Because you can't ask for happiness and asking for anything, for me, is just contradictory to what I'm doing here.
I thought, "If I can find happiness in Providence, where the people are dreary and the streets are cold.... I can find it anywhere, No Matter What." I found it here. Is that why I doubt it so much? Because I know that what I'm looking for can not be found so if I find it then it must not be what I was looking for. Nomad. Fucking emotional nomad. Being content with what I'm doing in my life is so difficult, why does it have to be, why do I make it so? Pick up and leave and start over again? I'm not getting anything done, and it is sad. I wonder why other people don't think about things this much. They're happy with their stuff and their goals, but I can't be. I wish I didn't use the word happiness so many goddamn times.
Maybe drawing pictures wasn't enough and that's why I've given up so many times. I suppose I can do it now without thinking. Read without really forcing myself. I always wanted to be able to do these things, but doing them seems so meaningless. I'm not getting my point across about how much I value interconnectedness and how I know that I'm taking it for granted. I'm not really saying what I mean. What do I mean? What am I saying? I want to be a part of everything, but I think that want is fucking me, because I'm not really a part of anything if I'm a part of everything; or maybe my philosophy of the whole situation is just fatalistic. Fuck. No, not that. I know that I'm not fatalistic because I realize that if everything were this way, that....
more Idealism.
Shave your head and throw it all away. I want to start fresh, but I think that's impossible isn't it? I don't mean socially; I want to unlearn everything that I "know" and start with a clean slate. Really, all of my inner dillemmas and all of everyone's are based on what we have learned, and when we learned it. Whether we were looking for it or not, we'll all become more human (flawed and flawless) every time we learn something of any value. But what is the string that connects these contradictory beliefs that are all really true?
What the fuck is truth anyway? Truth, to me, is just something that fits in to what life already is, something that I can believe. Usually it helps if my physical body can actually experience it, because that tells me that is isn't breaking the major laws of Science, which is really the Dictator for what is truth and what is not (even if I'm not referring to Science as it is currently).
Maybe there is no string and it is just the fact that I, myself, believe them that makes them seem like they all connect in some way.
But I don't believe that.
I should really figure out how to explain what I'm talking about, because as it is, the words that I know how to use are lacking.

16 January 2007

means to an end

I've been trying to avoid this, because I don't want to say things that aren't true.

This won't be long, I'm at the library.





Living here is really showing me just how much stress I can take, and just how happy I can be. I'm ecstatic. The past few days have been the best of my life for no apparent reason. Routine. Pigeons in the park, Starbucks, "Legendary service", fuck them. Keep looking. Don't settle. Walk faster. See everything. I have...

I realized the ora or the energy or the feeling of the city the other day, I'm not in Kansas anymore. Living here is so much different from just existing here.

It's hard. Not many friends, stress about how I'm going to find money and how I'm going to go to school. What do I want to be when I grow up?

I'm still not quite sure.



I feel good though. I know it will work out, if not here, then somewhere. Life really isn't that difficult afterall. Life, in general. People become lazy and impatient and wonder why nothing ever happens for them, why life isn't as idealistic at they imagine. Mine is as idealistic as I imagined, almost. It is getting there. I don't enjoy listening to Thomas's bitching, and I hate sleeping on that uncomfortable couch, but




those things are so trivial that it doesn't matter.



I'm not riding the trainwreck anymore.