Instead of planning ahead, plan to be surprised.

Instead of planning ahead, plan to be surprised.

So often I find that as people get older and become more experienced the more they put up wards around themselves. I say wards because they do become prisons just as much as they are forts. The unfortunate things that occur through one's life creates a mental imprint of the pain and an outline of where it came from. Regardless of whether the outline is true and accurate, we plan ahead to shield ourselves from whatever that path was. Many of us make active, conscious efforts to work around what has now become innate cautions because we realize that some of them may be unnecessary. But ultimately it does linger in the back of our minds and indirectly influences our actions.

Most of us hide behind egocentric shields that generate the illusion that we are special. These self serving protective shields allow us to believe that each of us is above average on any test of self integrity. Too often we look to the stars through thick lens of personal invulnerabilities when we should also look down to the slippery slope beneath our feet. We all couldn't possibly be angels.

I haven't quite come to a conclusion on why good people do bad things but I'm beginning to realize that good and evil aren't two independent entities that they somehow became in my mind. The idea that a great divide separates good people from bad people is a source of comfort for at least two reasons. First it makes things black or white therefore evil (the bad) is essentialized. Most of us think of evil as an entity, a quality that is inherent in some and not in others. Secondly it takes good people off the responsibility hook. They are automatically free from the same scrutiny that those labeled evil are subject to.





- The world is filled with both good and evil
- The barrier between good and evil is permeable and nebulous
- It is possible for angels to become demons and demons to become angels

Sense of comfort and security that delude you into happiness can be so easily rattled it makes me think twice about having them in the first place. I've been content with things for a while now. I've been enjoying life and the ride. The ups and downs of the hills were good.
You get used to that bullshit and feel secure in it. It's probably worse that you get settled into that feeling because when it's so abruptly torn away from you, you're left dumbfounded and feeling like a complete moron. Moron because you feel incredibly foolish for believing in the good of people. People are only good on the outside; what they really are are bastard coated bastards with bastard filling. Given enough of an excuse to attain personal gain they'll do stupid ass shit.

That's it for now. Not going to edit it, spell check it, or try to phrase it better (more accurately)... it's out as I thought it.


I don't think I really feel this way ... just at the moment I do.

The ember of human experience that destroys us slowly

How did we become this way? How did I turn out like this. What you want I can't give you and it's tearing me up inside. I can feel my body become soul-less and the emptiness hurts so bad that I'm paralyzed. I try to fill it with rage but it betrays me and I end up hating myself in the end. Anything in that void is better than burning of it when it's empty. Heartless bodies roam this world and I fall right in line. There's so much more you deserve and I'm too fucked up in the head to be a good one. But why can't you understand that? Twisted minds and wretched souls aren't meant to be loved.

The sweetest sadness in your eyes

I think Rob Zombie said it best when he sang "I feel so good, I Feel so numb, yeaaaah". It's becoming a strange state of being when indifference fills the hole of passion. The thought of it is absolutely frightening but I'm not scared. I sat awake in my bed this morning and just thought about what I'm doing with my life and really I'm doing a whole lot of nothing. It's unsatisfying to say the least and secretly it annoys me when others are happy. I suppose it's due to this ego I built up over the years that I can't understand why others deserve it over me. I suppose I want too much, as if there's going to be a shine of light onto my eyes that gives me spiritual happiness. It's fitting then that I write this in my dark room in the morning.
I'm scared of becoming someone who has accepted a pathetic existence but I feel that that's what's going to happen unless I find some purpose. I don't want the world to see me because I don't think that they'd understand. I just need to bleed just to know that I'm alive.

On a brighter note. I'm going to check out Finch at the Paradise Rock Club tonight Should be a bitchin' concert. This little outing is a result of me wanting to not be bored as much and if I'm going out all the time I can at least pretend like I'm doing something (if not distract me from the nothingness). OH wait, this was supposed to be the brighter note. my bad


Turn summer trees to bones and ice
Turn insect songs against the night
With words we build and words we break
I'm drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves...

Reign o'er me

I remember a time where the weekend was endless. Sundays dragged on to eternity but every second (however bored out of your mind you were) was enjoyed because in the morning you couldn't sleep in, you couldn't lounge around and watch the nothingness on tv and you certainly couldn't just be. But even with the dread that I used to have for going back to school (i almost always had a case of the mundays) times were happier. Happiness wasn't abstract as it currently is; it was found in tag at recess, playstation at a friend's house or hockey on a friday. When exactly did thorough happiness became so much harder? Some of my psychology-enabled friends would refer you to a Swiss named Piaget and tell me that some time after I turned 12 I start to develop the ability to think abstractly.
It seems to me that it just comes in moments only because those moments distract you from your own mind. I have worries, fears and want things that I shouldn't want so bad. Insecurities, pride, jealousy, nobility, kindness and love do not play well with each other. They're the Jets and Sharks (Capulets and Montagues) dueling it out in my head (lame, unclear reference i know).
I guess I've got some mental domains to develop. As much of a realist I like to think I am, maybe i could stand to be a little more pragmatic emotionally.




On the dry and dusty road
The nights we spend apart alone
I need to get back home to cool cool rain
I can't sleep and I lay and I think
The night is hot and black as ink
Oh God, I need a drink of cool cool rain

transcendental consequence

Have you ever glanced into a mirror and for quickest of instances not recognize the person looking back at you? This occurred to me the other day as I was about to get into the shower. It happened so quick that I didn't have time to observe the stranger or even have any thoughts about it. It was at a subconscious level that I didn't attribute myself to the image. This got me thinking about where I am in my life and how far I've come. I initially concluded that I haven't come all that far. Maybe I embodied a younger me looking into the mirror and seeing present day me. But that idea of the past seeing the future made me think of how naive I used to be. I like to believe I've become a realist since then and I see things as they are. Of course this is a huge load of shit. No one can discern reality so clearly. In that moment of nonrecognition I think I felt a little fear...

Vicissitudes

I start to feel like I can't maintain the facade any longer, that I may just start to show through. And I wish I knew what was wrong. Maybe something about how stupid my whole life is. I don’t know. Why does the rest of the world put up with the hypocrisy, the need to put a happy face on sorrow, the need to keep on keeping on? ... I don't know the answer, I know only that I can't. I don't want any more vicissitudes, I don't want any more of this try, try again stuff. I just want out. I've had it. I am so tired. I am twenty two and I am already exhausted.

That was quoted from Elizabeth Wurtzel and it describes with tremendous accuracy how I feel sometimes. I so often embrace the inner ass in me because I get tired of the poorly scripted drama that is my life. I really feel that a lot of people go through life for the sake of going through it. While others go through life if only to prove to themselves that they are of value. I'm still trying to figure out why I'm going through it. Obviously happiness is a goal but I'm tired of that notion being embodied by my future self. There couldn't be a better word than stumbling that describes how we go through life. Some of us are the drunks stumbling through the streets living in the moment, not worrying where they're stumbling. Others stare at each step they take with no sight of what's down the road and they essentially have stumbled into a future they did not so precisely calculate. I just would like to stumble on some happiness.

I suppose this post sounds pretty depressing and you might have picked up your cell phone to see if I'm still alive. Far from it; I enjoy life very much. But I can't help but feel a little lost sometimes. This vague, albeit depressing posts are probably a hell of a lot more interesting than stories of me bar hopping with my buddies or visiting the Sam Adams brewery (which btw rocked).


can you hear the dolphin's cry?