It's funny how the human works. We all want fame, we all want riches, we all want want the mansion with enough bedrooms for each day of the week. But life sets the odds against us. Very few of us chase our dreams, and an even smaller amount accomplish them. Life is setup to deal us a hand that we can either hold, or risk it all.We could be sitting pretty with a 19, but the chances that the dealer has a higher hand beating us into submission are extremely higher. What do we do? What choice do we choose? I think that most of us hold the hand, accepting something lesser than our dreams. There are a few of us though, where that isn't enough. We feel the need to risk it all for that 21, even if that means busting and walking away with nothing. We strive for that 21, for the right to stand up and scream, 'BLACKJACK'. But life isn't blackjack. Life is life. It favors the hard working, and what makes us work hard? What pushes us to work harder than what we thought we could? What makes us think that we can get that 21 to beat the dealer? Motivation
We all know that motivation is the key to success, but then why don't more people succeed and accomplish their dreams? It is their source of motivation. It cannot be selfish. It has to come from someone or something else outside of the worker; a greater cause or calling. That something or someone else will drive the worker to push the limits on absolutely everything that stands in their way. It will grow inside the worker, turned them into a crazily obsessed madman that will only be satisfied when that thing has been obtained. In my case, it is someone.
Yes I am young, and yes I am bat shit crazy, but I embrace it. I am frenzied now. I realize all my mistakes. There is no possible way to go back in time and fix them, so why waste time thinking about the 'ifs'. We cannot go back into the past, but we can embrace it. We can use it to prepare for the future and deal with the present. I realize the sorrow I feel is self inflicted, so I must stop it. Everyday I miss this person, and I realize that is my fault. It was my idea to separate. It absolutely fucking sucks knowing I caused this, but I cannot change it. Instead, I can use that energy and channel it to the product of something better. I apologized, but does that accomplish what I want to accomplish? Does this bring back the voice with the cutest damn accent I have ever heard, or the face that owned the most beautiful sparkling eyes I've known? No, and these eyes really did twinkle, that isn't a lie. It barely accomplishes anything, yet accomplishes so much. It doesn't make up for the fact that I let her down, but it was something. It was the first step in the direction to accomplishing. I have found my motivation and will not stop until I have made it up to her, hoping that I prove to her. Prove myself to her by proving myself to the entire world. I have found my Elisha Cuthbert, my Girl Next Door, and I will not stop until this is no longer a text, or needed to be said... until we are face to face.
"I'm sitting in the library and I just had to do this paper on the 'type of writer' I'd like to see myself as. And I put emotional because of your writing. I love when you write things because you have such a beautiful way with words that touches places in my heart that I never thought could be brought open and healed. When I read your blog yesterday I honestly sat in my room and cried. You mean so much to me. I can literally think of every time we've hung out. The clothes you were wearing. The scent you carried. The mood you were in. The way you held me. I remember the moments we stayed up late talking about life, and I remember many times I've fallen asleep on you. I remember the look on your face when I would brush my fingers through your hair. How relaxed you felt when I'd rub your back. The many times you trolled me, and waitied for me to show an expression on my face before you would grab me and kiss me softly. The day I cam over and didn't say a word but cried on your lap. And you knew exactly what was wrong. How I fet when you were next to me. Just two bare bodies together. The steamy affection we had. The look on your face when I bought you a pack of cigarettes that one time. The way you used to run your hands up and down my body with such gentleness and respect that it made me weak. The many, many, many, smiles you have put on my face. The many nights we have spent together. I could never possibly forget any of it"
And neither can I.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Better Left Untitled
We can tell ourselves it is going to be alright, even though we are going through what seems to be a living Hell. It is the only rational thing to do when you are rendered helpless in certain situations. It is the only thing that can keep one sane. It's funny, if you want to stay rational, in the darkest of times, you must act and think irrationally. Right now, I struggle to stay above water, and it strains me to think everything is going to be alright. I have strayed away from believing it long ago, but I guess to say it, well, I still have a little rationale inside my skull. When I lose the ability to even say it, then my brain, that I have held so dear to me, will be crushed by a stampede of irrational thoughts. Such thoughts can cause long term side effects upon judgement, destroying and chipping away at what I once was. Slowly my fear will disperse, thus turning me into my fear. Turning me into a monster I had vowed to decimate until the end of time. Even just a single shot over par will end the game, and I fear that it may already have happened.
Thoughts are extremely illusive. We cannot see them, we cannot measure them, and we can only record them to an extent, That one moment we record isn't even exactly just one thought, and not accurate. In this one moment I am writing, I have a sea of thoughts processing through my brain. Remembering to breathe, the next time I have to blink, how to spell the words I am using to represent my thoughts, sentence structure, and making my writing legible. That is just a string of thoughts closely related. Without me telling this, you would have no idea that I was laying in my friend's apartment, yet while I write this, I know where I am. I am aware of my history with my friend. I am texting friends as well, all of which have histories, all of which are on standby while I write, and pause from writing to text them. To you, this was just one continuous thought, just like everything else you read. But it isn't. It is a string of thoughts that has the light shown on it, rather than the millions of other thoughts working at the exact same time. One thought, is a million thoughts, and we can not, and will not, produce the same thought ever again. Nor will it be replicated by anyone else. A thought is infinite, although on a day to day basis, most everyone takes it in stride as a finite and recorded happening. To me, this is a life shattering revelation. On the same level of upheaval as learning that we never touch anything. All we feel is friction. There is an infinite amount of space between everything. And the life shattering fact that we as humans see upside down, and dogs see in grey scale. The ability to maintain composure during such realizations is a feat in itself, outside composure that is. On the inside, these realizations strip away at everything we have accepted as facts over our entire life. We even question and think back to our childhoods. These realizations have shaped me into a cold and calculated rational thinker. My motto for life; We are only rationalizing the irrational. It is a non ending circle of thought, no beginning, no end. It seems though, that irrational thought about the irrational, causes the threshold of sanity to become breached.
I have to have already caught the crazy train. After becoming completely rational, I closed the world of irrational thought. I had convinced myself that I had rationalized life itself, which brought about the collapse of my mental construct. I screwed myself. There is no else to blame, even if there was someone to blame, it wouldn't make sense.
And with the realization, my mental construct crumbles into an ocean of nothing. Thoughts of hopelessness ensue, surrounding me with negativity, another subject I thought I had conquered. It is to strong, impossible to control, or hold at bay. All I can do is accept that for now I am lost. I cannot just go back and find myself. Everything that seemed fun, my outlets for pain, have been put on hold. They have been buried by mountains of sand. Will they ever be what they once were? I should think not, or at least not at their pinnacle. This process will probably continue until I completely give up and quit. Once I crawl back into my defeated mental castle, and attempt to rebuild, I will remember to ask myself this question; When will this all fall again? When will another poisonous thought come along, and bread inside my brainwaves until it conquers and reclaims my throne? Will I be able to fight it? To isolate it early enough so that it may not infect my whole person? Most likely, no. I will have yet another mental break down. I will once again walk like a limp lifeless fool. I will once again be ashamed to look people in the eyes. I will once again keep my head down as much as possible. I cannot shake it. It is unlike anything, because it adapts. It, being the sorrow. The irrational sorrow that has no explanation, no birth, no death. You cannot take a pill for it, because then you will not be yourself at all. You cannot off yourself, because the unknowing darkness of death isn't welcoming. The only thing that seems rational, is sleeping. Shutting off the brain from the outside world naturally. No alcohol, no drugs, just pure sleep. The only downside is waking up, just to remember why you went to sleep in the first place. Once again, a circle of torment.
Self pity is venomous. It can destroy, and over time, it will. Like venom, it takes you apart from the inside out. Like venom, if you don't treat it right away, your window for solving it digresses exponentially over time. It creates a depressing home inside your brain, and turns everything against you. Your eyelids begin to feel way to heavy to even bother with staying open. You feel as though your core has been disassembled and moved to another part of the world. And the process isn't over. Tiny pieces of yourself are being lost, millimeter by millimeter. Right now this pen feels like a burden. Hell, just thinking has turned into a burden, but something keeps me pushing on. Some irrational and intangible and explainable force. The only conclusion I can make for identifying this phenomenon, is love.
For too long I have denied this emotion's existence. I argued it to be an addiction, something to stray away from. I am surrounded by people, family, that love me. Through the thick and thin of all my mistakes, they have forgiven me, and found new ways to try and help me succeed. They love me, and care for me in a way that goes beyond rational thought. They are not the only ones. There have been many people that came and went, trying to show how they could care for me, but I pushed them away, until recently. I let someone get extremely close, but kept my mind jaded. And now that they are gone, I realize now how much of a fool I have been my whole life, not just the time I was with them. I feel the pain of my decisions with each breathe I draw.
If you care for someone, do not let them go. It will eat away at you like a statue in acidic rain. You will become helpless, a prisoner to your own thoughts, a product of close minded indecisiveness. Everyday you wake up and realize that that one person isn't around, will seem like a failure. Love is irrational, so be irrational. Chase what your heart desires. Even if that doesn't pan out, you tried. That feeling of failure is absolutely nothing compared to the feeling of not even trying. We have one life, so live it how you want to.
Thoughts are extremely illusive. We cannot see them, we cannot measure them, and we can only record them to an extent, That one moment we record isn't even exactly just one thought, and not accurate. In this one moment I am writing, I have a sea of thoughts processing through my brain. Remembering to breathe, the next time I have to blink, how to spell the words I am using to represent my thoughts, sentence structure, and making my writing legible. That is just a string of thoughts closely related. Without me telling this, you would have no idea that I was laying in my friend's apartment, yet while I write this, I know where I am. I am aware of my history with my friend. I am texting friends as well, all of which have histories, all of which are on standby while I write, and pause from writing to text them. To you, this was just one continuous thought, just like everything else you read. But it isn't. It is a string of thoughts that has the light shown on it, rather than the millions of other thoughts working at the exact same time. One thought, is a million thoughts, and we can not, and will not, produce the same thought ever again. Nor will it be replicated by anyone else. A thought is infinite, although on a day to day basis, most everyone takes it in stride as a finite and recorded happening. To me, this is a life shattering revelation. On the same level of upheaval as learning that we never touch anything. All we feel is friction. There is an infinite amount of space between everything. And the life shattering fact that we as humans see upside down, and dogs see in grey scale. The ability to maintain composure during such realizations is a feat in itself, outside composure that is. On the inside, these realizations strip away at everything we have accepted as facts over our entire life. We even question and think back to our childhoods. These realizations have shaped me into a cold and calculated rational thinker. My motto for life; We are only rationalizing the irrational. It is a non ending circle of thought, no beginning, no end. It seems though, that irrational thought about the irrational, causes the threshold of sanity to become breached.
I have to have already caught the crazy train. After becoming completely rational, I closed the world of irrational thought. I had convinced myself that I had rationalized life itself, which brought about the collapse of my mental construct. I screwed myself. There is no else to blame, even if there was someone to blame, it wouldn't make sense.
And with the realization, my mental construct crumbles into an ocean of nothing. Thoughts of hopelessness ensue, surrounding me with negativity, another subject I thought I had conquered. It is to strong, impossible to control, or hold at bay. All I can do is accept that for now I am lost. I cannot just go back and find myself. Everything that seemed fun, my outlets for pain, have been put on hold. They have been buried by mountains of sand. Will they ever be what they once were? I should think not, or at least not at their pinnacle. This process will probably continue until I completely give up and quit. Once I crawl back into my defeated mental castle, and attempt to rebuild, I will remember to ask myself this question; When will this all fall again? When will another poisonous thought come along, and bread inside my brainwaves until it conquers and reclaims my throne? Will I be able to fight it? To isolate it early enough so that it may not infect my whole person? Most likely, no. I will have yet another mental break down. I will once again walk like a limp lifeless fool. I will once again be ashamed to look people in the eyes. I will once again keep my head down as much as possible. I cannot shake it. It is unlike anything, because it adapts. It, being the sorrow. The irrational sorrow that has no explanation, no birth, no death. You cannot take a pill for it, because then you will not be yourself at all. You cannot off yourself, because the unknowing darkness of death isn't welcoming. The only thing that seems rational, is sleeping. Shutting off the brain from the outside world naturally. No alcohol, no drugs, just pure sleep. The only downside is waking up, just to remember why you went to sleep in the first place. Once again, a circle of torment.
Self pity is venomous. It can destroy, and over time, it will. Like venom, it takes you apart from the inside out. Like venom, if you don't treat it right away, your window for solving it digresses exponentially over time. It creates a depressing home inside your brain, and turns everything against you. Your eyelids begin to feel way to heavy to even bother with staying open. You feel as though your core has been disassembled and moved to another part of the world. And the process isn't over. Tiny pieces of yourself are being lost, millimeter by millimeter. Right now this pen feels like a burden. Hell, just thinking has turned into a burden, but something keeps me pushing on. Some irrational and intangible and explainable force. The only conclusion I can make for identifying this phenomenon, is love.
For too long I have denied this emotion's existence. I argued it to be an addiction, something to stray away from. I am surrounded by people, family, that love me. Through the thick and thin of all my mistakes, they have forgiven me, and found new ways to try and help me succeed. They love me, and care for me in a way that goes beyond rational thought. They are not the only ones. There have been many people that came and went, trying to show how they could care for me, but I pushed them away, until recently. I let someone get extremely close, but kept my mind jaded. And now that they are gone, I realize now how much of a fool I have been my whole life, not just the time I was with them. I feel the pain of my decisions with each breathe I draw.
If you care for someone, do not let them go. It will eat away at you like a statue in acidic rain. You will become helpless, a prisoner to your own thoughts, a product of close minded indecisiveness. Everyday you wake up and realize that that one person isn't around, will seem like a failure. Love is irrational, so be irrational. Chase what your heart desires. Even if that doesn't pan out, you tried. That feeling of failure is absolutely nothing compared to the feeling of not even trying. We have one life, so live it how you want to.
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