2004-01-02 at 11:35 p.m.
Dreams...
Everyone has them right? I don't mean the sub-conscieous wanderings of the mind, I mean the beliefs of hopes of how people want their lives to turn out like. And yet no matter how unrealistic these dreams are, people are easily led to dwell on them.
I'm not shutting myself away, I'm finding out how many people would stop me from doing that. It's wrong. It's a test, for me to find the answers and analysis, to find out where exactly my loyalties lie.
I don't want to try so hard anymore, yet at the same time I want people to know that I am here. That I do exist. I don't believe and I will never believe that my life is the worst, and that I deserve suicide or something like-so.
I am going to be the person I want to be, the person I was born to be. I need to get in touch with that person, even if it means living some sort of lie, I believe I can be remotely, succumbed by happiness.
Exectations from me to others has been flying far too high the past year, and I have been wrong in doing so.
I tried kidding myself saying that a new year did mean a new start, but it doesn't, not to me. To me, it means the chance to leave what happened the previous year there, in that previous year.
It's an excuse to change feelings, and maybe I am wrong for doing so so quickly. But it's going to happen.
My technique of writing, I believe, is methodical and perceptive....meaning boring.
I need to change the person I am to change my fluency of writing, instead of neglecting it, by being stubborn, obdurate and intolerable.
I'm not doing this for anyone else. It's selfish to say, but I'm doing it all for myself. This time.
I can stop the pain, If I will it all away
I'm willing...
I don't understand why I get so frustrated when people don't think the way I think. Why am I so different, not just from the people I was brought up with, but from everyone. I feel that the closest person I have doesn't care, which, by the way, doesn't affect me as much at all anymore, but I know it's not the case, yet I fail to believe it.
My citadel - My mind - was able to be destroyed some point last year, and never given time to recover. I will make it now. It had no choice, even if that means being cold-hearted, even more so.
I sit under the stairs, staring into another world, with unrelenting silences, and pernicious thoughts. I sit there, knowing no one can get me, knowing no one knows, feeling less alone than what I do out of there.
Is it my fault that I feel alone?
I shouldn't believe a word you say...I do anyway, Cos I'm dumb...like that
The box is my form of quarantine. Preventing spread of my mood, my ever-changing mood.
No more persuading or dissauding. I want to be there, but I want to be more laid-back, easy-going. Heck, that might help you more.
That day I knew that my old man...was...well, I accepted it. Accepted the last things i said to him. "I Hate you"
My unintelligeable language, and my succession of mastering the ability to ramble, hasn't changed.
?New Year?
We'll see...
Uninspirational conspiracies of thoughts, views, beliefs, opinions and arguments.
We don't know why, the Innocent die
last & next
newest archives profile notes image design host