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?

Stumbling on Happiness

What would you do right now if you learned that you were going to die in ten minutes? Hard to say, of course, but of all the things you might do in your final ten minutes, it’s a pretty safe bet that few of them are things you actually did today.

Now, some people will bemoan this fact, wag their fingers in your direction, and tell you sternly that you should live every minute of your life as though it was your last, which only goes to show that some people would spend their final ten minutes giving other people dumb advice. The thing we do when we expect our lives to continue are naturally and properly different than the things we might do if we expected them to end abruptly. We go easy on the lard and tobacco, smile dutifully at yet another of our supervisor’s witless jokes, when we could be wearing paper hats and eating pistachio macaroons in the bathtub, and we do each of these thing in the charitable service of the people we will soon become.


Our brains have a unique structure that allows us to mentally transport ourselves into future circumstances and then ask ourselves how it feels to be there. Rather than calculating utilities with mathematical precision, we simply step into tomorrow’s shoes and see how well they fit. Our ability to project ourselves forward in time and experience events before they happen enables us to learn from mistakes without making them and to evaluate actions without taking them. If nature has given us a greater gift, no one has named it. And yet, as impressive as it is, our ability to simulate future selves and future circumstances is by no means perfect. When we imagine future circumstances, we fill in details that won’t really come to pass and leave out details that will. When we imagine future feelings, we find it impossible to ignore what we are feeling now and impossible to recognize how we will think about the things that happen later. Daniel Bernoulli dreamed of a world in which a simple formula would allow us all to determine our futures with perspicacity and foresight. But foresight is a fragile talent that often leaves us squinting, straining to see what it would be like to have this, go there, or do that. There is no simple formula for finding happiness. But if our great big brains do not allow us to go surefootedly into our futures, they at least allow us to understand what makes us stumble.