Let the good times roll

I never really dated much in high school. I'm making up for it now though. I've met some great people who are fun to talk to and live interesting lives. Dark days seem far behind me. There is definitely some more heart break in my future, but for now I'm enjoying the fact guys are swarming me for attention.

People

"People tell us who they are, but we ignore it because we want them to be who we want them to be." - Don Draper from Mad Men Episode: The Summer Man

PLEASE GIMMIE GIMMIE PLLLLLLEASE: Rayban Wayfarers!!!!

Hey There. You Bad Seeds. Let's Get It On!

I was born upside down.

My dog had puppies. One was born inside out.

We're all born with sins. Better start cleansin'.

I'm disturbed by the world and its grim surprises.

Reality is a bitch sometimes.

Life is beautiful, - as long as you see it that way.

I choose to see many ways.

That's why I'm bitterly cynical.

Finally! I'm clinically perfect.

I've checked out and I'm on my way.

I'm not finished though.

I still have a long way to go

until my head is right.

What about you?

How's your head doing?

I love the heat in your movements.

But, coldness throttles your every word.

You love cold, lifeless things.

You hate those close to you.

Their touch burns your skin.

You hate them for what they don't give you.

Is there no other reason for it?

It's so hard to love someone for what they do give you.

On their death beds you will remember it all.

Only then will you see, that you hated them for being everything you could have ever wanted.

People tell me to be things, but I don't feel like listening.

But, you... you listen to the movies, the music and your real self fades.

You are hiding.

I try not to listen, because this chameleon needs sleep.

So do you.

Take a break, write a song, sing it to yourself.

Find God.

Then find out that there's more to life.

Find your own answers, ones that you can't find in any book.

Discover the world outside your room. Find a balance.

Discover that outside of your bad seed sprouting head there is an occasionally beautiful world out there.

Change again my brother and you'll lose your

grip.

I could stare at ink blots, but I only see ink.

Tell me what you see and I will change my story.

Because there is more to you.

You're not just a depressed teenaged boy.

You're scared of being alone, so scared you'd rather die than think about it again.

As long as you stare at everyone else, you'll only end up failing the Rorschach test.

"The voices say hello." - Matthew Good A Boy and His Machine Gun

CONSISTENCY

If you stare at things consistently enough, their consistency begins to break apart and hit you with bone crushing force. It's hot. Sweaty hot. And I'm lying here staring at my fan spinning. I could stare at it for hours and as I watch the blades spin round and round, they would become one moving object. But, in my current state I can see each blade cutting through the air. Consistently, my eyes catch sight of one, then the other. For some reason they seem to tell me something important as if my fan is going to teach me an important life lesson.

There are tiny black flies touching my naked back, my face, landing on my eye lashes and on my computer screen. I'm annoyed, well at least I think I should be. Maybe they are minor annoyances, maybe they are trying to tell me something as well.

I'm trying to make some philosophical finding out of this. I thing I wanted to find was meaning, but now I just see that I've come across and insane. That's cool. I don't want to wait to see what will happen. I want to know what will happen so I don't love just to have a broken heart in the end. That's what I wanted to find. I wanted to find an answer, not meaning. But, now I see that neither the blades of my fan, nor the bugs will give me some mind awakening answer to the problems with my heart.

Gettin' Ova It

Here I am again! Am I happy? Sure. I'm fucking elated.

I've begun to realize that one mood cannot define your life. You are a mixture of all your ups and downs. The downs suck. Obviously, as one could tell from my last "depressoid" post. I love reading over what I wrote in the past because at the time it felt so good to just write what I felt. I wrote stuff on the internet that I could not tell a human being face to face. Then again, that was at a time where I thought that I didn't have anyone that was willing to listen to my troubles. But, now I've learned that my friends are troubled too and love to talk about the shit that happens.

So far this year I've learned 10 epic things about my life and the people in it:

1) My mom is totally cool when it comes to dating and she wont make me come home at 10 pm on a Saturday night.

2) My dad knows that I hate him. He wants to change? Naa he likes being an asshole.

3) My parents are not all-knowing beings, it took me 16 years to discover this? Yes.

4) My friends are cool when it comes to venting for hours and staying up all night.

5) Never babysit a kid with a foot-fetish.

6) Being a nerd and a total loser doesn't mean that guys wont talk to you ;)

7) If I'm not making people happy, I feel like crap. Therefore, I know why I want to be a therapist.

8) I don't think I want to write professionally anymore.

9) I can't imagine doing anything in the future that requires effort.

10) I'm incredibly annoying.

Please Don't Bring Me Down

I have feelings... tons of feelings.

Ones that well up and burst,

others that I suppress only to hold onto them as long as possible.

I find myself only attracted to complete strangers.

An unhealthy habit. I know. 

Maybe I love too easily, attraction is a second. Love immediately after.

I feel in love with a guy who smiled at me. I'm riding a streetcar named love :)

No wonder I have so much trouble talking to people.

I'm insecure, outside, inside, every side. 

I'm a tired person. 

I'm tired of trying to hide from fuck heads and their fuck-headed comments.

People who can't understand their own words. 

I'm not made of metal. Your sticks and stones will break my bones. I shatter. I'm glass. Words can hurt me. They will always do damage. 

So why don't you stop wondering why I'm not talking to you anymore? 

If you put this much thought into what you say, then what you said...

I don't what to think about you anymore... because it only reminds me of what you said.

No one ever made fun of my flaws before you. I saw them. Now I think that everyone else sees them too. Are you happy now??? ARE YOU HAPPY??? You didn't know me. 

But you thought you saw me. 

I've realized who my true friends are, I've got one back ;) I'm closer to others and I'm just glad that you never got close enough to do damage. With a knife perhaps?

I heard stories and I decided to form my own opinion. 

You are a sad, sad boy who has no idea how to make friends. 

Me. I'm a loner. I don't hurt anyone. 

You Call That Mature?

Fact: People grow up. Another fact: People put too much importance on maturity. Maturity is just a word. Like many other words it is used too much, to frequently inflate peoples' egos.

People tell you that you are mature for your age. BTW: not a complement. AKA: You are not as stupid and annoying as I assumed you would be when I found out that you were a teenager. Immaturity makes life interesting. If the whole world was made of mature people, topics on a rainy day would range from tax returns to what specific colour the wall paint is. So let's PLEASE stop acting like mature adults while we still have our childhood. Someday you will look back on yourself and hate that you never embraced your childish natures. But, if you had put so much importance on maturity, you will also see your childish self as an idiot. When, truly, that's just the way we start out. And you'll ask yourself in the most secluded part of your mature brain what you were thinking when you did those supposedly "MATURE" things, because to the future you, you were as egotistical as they come. I was there with you when you bragged about being so much more fucking mature than us, sorry to tell you but, it was kind of ironic. Do you really think that a mature person would brag about being mature? Jesus fucking Christ. You call that mature? Keep denying that immaturity is biting at your heels, keep running and looking behind you. I seriously hope you trip and fall, because once you do, there will be no one there to pick you up off your ass. Maturity means nothing, neither does immaturity. It's the way people act that make them mature or immature individuals. Mature means being responsible, responsible for your actions, responsible for your stupidity, and responsible for your health. But, that's just me looking through your smoke filled eyes and don't try telling me that your life is so bad that you have to do all this shit. Try thinking about people who matter for once. Your problems, my problems, are not worth reading. I hope this is a phase and that it ends soon.

Impressions are PITIFUL

It's scary in a way, that people are so reliant on the opinions of other people. Whether they need confirmation that they are accepted, beautiful, cool, smart or funny, many people lack the skills to make themselves feel good about themselves. Here's the sad part: Once you are complimented by a person, you strain to be like that, even if you aren't what they see you. At least you are being seen, right? That's when you become someone else, hungering for compliments, spewing pity through every pore, waiting for someone to clog them temporarily. They become you eventually. And that person no longer gets genuine compliments, just ones to shut them up. Is it wrong to stop complimenting that person--to stop encouraging their pity seeking pleas? It makes everyone sad, and a little tired. So, let's be ourselves... as if it was that simple. We'd all be so very beautiful, but for every beautiful person, there is an ugly one to make seem untouchable. We all hungry for something more, it's time to feed that stomach, but not with pity, with courage and eventually confidence. It goes the same way for insults, including ones that come from so called friends. But that's a whole other issue, that I'd prefer not to get into. It's buried under 3000 feet of sand, silt and clay.