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Here It's December...Everyday

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Glow [Sep. 7th, 2007|03:40 pm]
[Tunes |Radium Eyes - Count Zero]

I've never been this happy. I've never felt this sick. I've never been the weaker one and been okay with it. I've never had so much contempt or ill wishes for one entity. I've never felt close to fainting before. I've never wanted to hurt anybody for real. I've never wanted bad things for others...consciously. I've never had any problems with medication. I've never been afraid of minor bodily aches. I've never known that non-comformity is a big joke. I've never really accepted my flaws. I've never wished to be rid of mental health issues.

I've never known who I really was.

Most importantly, I've never liked myself the way I do know. Not pompous, not vain, but accepting. I'm not hideous. I'm not fat. I'm loved. I'm SO loved. I don't need what I thought I always did. Even in the depressive stages, I know that I'm loved.
linkI Tasted Blood

(no subject) [May. 16th, 2007|04:07 pm]
All I want is to lose myself in a forest, to lay down in the middle of clearing and sleep in the grass and the sunshine and the flowers until forever. I want peace. I want to sleep and not to think anymore. I want branches and leaves and birds above my head, to feel the soft coolness of the ground beneath me and hot sun on my back.

I don't want to hear people anymore.

I don't want to have these conversations where any question, story, complaint, personal admission is ignored and juxtaposed with a statement centric to my listener. I know I can listen to you. I can feed you all the compliments that you seek. I voice the things that you want to happen. "Oh, maybe he likes you." "No, you'll do fine." "It's not a big deal."

No one appreciates it. It is not at all reciprocated.

I thought this would never bother me. I thought the fact that I wasn't heard would never mean anything...because one day I would come back with some brilliant career and show everyone that it didn't matter - now everyone else could hear what I had to say. Now the world was my patient audience.

What hurts is that I can't think of an instance lately where I've really felt that someone has legitimately cared about my feelings, or what I have to say.

Yeah, fuck yes I'm independent. I support myself. I depend on no one.

But I want to...so bad. I want to have someone who's entire being lights up when I'm around. I want someone that I feel the same way about.

Proverbial soul mates.

I want him to lay with me in my forest, and we wouldn't have to talk. We'd live in a house devoured by trees and vines and bougainvillea and not have a telephone or a television and never feel compelled to break a silence. There wouldn't be awkward. Our home would be full of flowers and old fashioned furniture. Sheer white curtains and white washed walls. A baby grand piano. He'd play music for me and I'd do the same for him. Candles everywhere.
Claw foot bathtub. Laying in the long grass at night in summer and dozing off under moon and stars.

He would always listen, and he would talk when he wanted to talk. Silence would be warm and comfortable. We would be in love and never really need anyone else.

And it would be so beautiful.
linkI Tasted Blood

Emily's Half-Wit Philospohy vs. Things Like Freedom. [Feb. 20th, 2007|08:01 pm]
[Tunes |Goldies Torn Locks - He is Legend]

Firstly, when I write, I don't write these neat, seven-paragraph, well organized well supported well thought out pieces of shit I'm required to turn in for my English classes. I think all that meticulous planning takes away from the beauty of spontaneity that comes with an argument one merely thinks up on their own, and supports without factual evidence.

In French class, about a month ago, we started reading this children's book. Le Petit Prince, written by Antoine St. Exupery circa the early 1940s. Beautiful, simple text. One should take it upon themselves to become familiar with a book like this, which so effortlessly confronts the stereotypes and constant questions that come with human life in a society...and does so in a way that a young child might be able to grasp.

As much as I respect you and almost love you for your childish genius, Saint Ex, I'm afraid I disagree with you on several things.

"La liberte, c'est un question de discipline".

Freedom is a question of discipline.

I'm afraid that I disagree. Freedom comes not with hard work, but simply with the abandonment of everything to which you owe a responsibility. Freedom is when you are guiltless to all of the ties you've severed. When you're completely alone. When you owe no one but yourself anything at all.

Freedom is the most utterly selfish act that a person can commit...and one of the most beautiful.

Imagine, for a moment, if you will, a life where there is no one to serve but yourself. There is the argument, I suppose, that even then you are chained to caring for your personal welfare, but this is null, I believe. But picture, just you. You live alone. You support yourself in a way that completely disregards the well-being of others - emotionally or physically. You can steal, cheat, rape, fuck, lie...with no negative consequences. If that's how you choose to live.

Because when you get down to it, really, where do your morals come from? Where your need to be a 'good person'? Where your needs for domesticity? Your compelling urges to merely float along, following rules? Your want of good material things and money that you come about legitimately?

Who gets decide what's wrong and right? What is a 'good' person, really? Who needs a permanent home? Who decides that we have to follow rules? What good is money, anyway?

We live our lives serving others. We tell ourselves that this is a necessity. We need to bow down to our authority figures, in order to do what's best for ourselves. We need to have these plastic friends around us at all times, even if they don't really value us and spend all of their time bringing us down. We absolutely have to be held in high-esteem by our peers.

Whenever there is a person who puts their own personal needs ahead of those around them, they are labeled. Egotistical. Vain. Self-centered. Ego-centric.

But really, if you take a peek between the cracks of your tenderly molded opinions, you'll find that the only reason you call them out in such a way is because you are completely and irrevocably jealous. Why not me? You wonder. Why can't I just speak my mind like they can? Dress as provocatively or as interestingly as them? Hold everyone's attention like they can?

The most hated people in a society are the most free.

Those that are overlooked as 'sweet' and 'cute' and 'hard-working', they've lived in the proverbial chains for their entire lives.

I'm not saying everyone should tumble and collapse into complete anarchy, although it would be quite an entertaining chaos to explore. It's not that we should all go to the extreme self-servient being I've described above. I'm saying that people at their core are animals, controlled by some darker urges. We don't want to make love, we want to fuck. We don't want to live behind the systemized agony of a high paying desk job, we want the satisfaction of killing our own food and supporting ourselves in the most primitive of ways. Wooden houses are merely the grandiose substitutes of shacks in the forests that we've cut down. All the modern developments around us are the product of human greed, an inherently natural trait.

All I'm suggesting is that maybe, in order to be more free, we should all tap into that darker part of ourselves, that cess-pool of ancient urges and inclinations, wants and needs. Who needs this highly organized, regimented, ordered, one-must-try-their-best-to-impress-those-around-them society?

Impress yourself. Care for yourself. If you find someone you want to befriend or court, great, but do it because you want to, not because you pity them or feel like you have to be around them. Fuck this forced relationship bullshit.

If you don't like someone, you don't like someone. Be honest. If they're unattractive to you, don't tell them otherwise. You don't agree with their decisions or opinions, let 'em know.

Take a few minutes to contemplate the world more honest. Imagine all of the delicious conflict, the rifts between groups. All the people who would produce all of these thoughts and opinions that had never been voiced before. And yeah, there might be violence, but our history is nothing without conflict. Empires are built and they fall. People are murdered. Cultures collapse and fold under another. It's a natural process.

But we're here to experience. To be free. To live the lives we want and to grab every moment by the neck and squeeze until we get out of it all it has to give. Let's get back to some of this primitive naturality. Demolish some of these buildings.

For real, let's blow up the century city sky-line.

And after that, we can cultivate all of the plants and things we've fought so hard to destroy and suppress for the history of the modern world. We can make everything as anciently beautiful as it once was. We can return to the primitive.

So no, Saint-Ex. Discipline and hard work really bring us nothing but agony.

Feeding our primal instincts, this is real freedom.
link3 Wanted Love~I Tasted Blood

I DID IT! [Oct. 16th, 2006|08:43 pm]
[Feeling |accomplished]
[Tunes |No.1 in E Flat, Op. 18 (Grand Valise) - Chopin]

I BROKE THE WRITERS BLOCK! Oh man, I'm so excited. I don't know where I even got this...it just sort of kept coming and then I had three pages. All I needed was a quick short story, and I'm proud of this.

I started reading up on schizophrenia in Psyche this morning, and an idea like this kind of stuck in the back of my mind. I read that most schizophrenics could be characterized by their delusions and hallucinations, meaning that while they appeared simply catatonic to us, they were living a totally separate life. Or they thought they had some great purpose that no one else could acheive. So, I ingratiated that into my writing. Also, I had my character have a "lucid" state, where he would have appeared normal to those around him.

So, fact and fiction.

I don't know who'll read this, but tell me what you think?

Savior, Heaven-Sent )
link5 Wanted Love~I Tasted Blood

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