April 2009
[the winds of change are blowing wild and free.]
as each day goes by, it seems i lose more of myself to this new identity. who am i supposed to be? i’ve been plagued by those technicolor dreams again; as i live them out in my subconcious, i get more and more terrified by the notion that they may never come to be. that i’ll never break free of this monotonous cycle of routine. i best get myself well acquainted with sleepless nights.
March 2009
[catch me as i wash away.]
breathebreathebreathe. everything is whirring by at warp speed, and i’m suffocating from the distorted convoludedness of my surroundings. why am i so worried? it’s all going to be fine… just stop overthinking; take one moment at a time. and if this doesn’t work out, it’s not the end of the world - another wind is bound to pass me by again. …right?
[i'll take a breath like the world is out of...
i think i’m starting to realize how lucky i truly am. i feel privileged to know so many wonderful people, and have them - to some extent - love me the way they do. i feel thankful for not having to live in perpetual shiteousness that i cannot control, and to be given the opportunities that i have. i want to sing at the top of my lungs from now until forever.
[i take my twist with a shout.]
i’m very much living in an alternate universe at the moment. is it possible to dream too much? i hope not; my perception of life is already as convoluded as it could be. i basically live on the border of imagination and reality. i exist at the point when both entities collide and fuse into a mass of chaos. i am abstract thought, in a way. which explains my sense of suspension, and pervading...
[i didn't know myself until you changed me.]
hello self. stop having second thoughts. NO REGRETS! …or else i’ll punch you in the face.
cardiac arrest.
if my laptop ends up virusfree, i swear to god i’ll stop using it to watch and download movies and all that shit. i promise not to fuck it up again.
“i regret not knowing when to put an end to all this madness.”
– all time low, running from lions
[his angel's kiss was a joke.]
i’m tired, but this time, it’s in a good way. i’m tired from excitement, from feeling so much passion today. from being so damn ENERGIZED for once. i feel hopeful today. i feel like perhaps the potential for greatness is so amazing, so enormous, that everything will be okay. i feel like singing and dancing and laughing and jumping and screaming from all this joy bundled inside of...
[tonight, i'm riding off the rails.]
my head has been killing me for the last threeish days… i wonder if that’s a sign of some sort. i’m hating knowing what tomorrow will bring: cyclic, pointless routine. institutionalized colourlessness. a deprivation of LIFE. i’m terrifed that this path may only leade me to a fate straight from a richard yates version of suburbia.
i never want to feel uber comfortable.
[moon river, what you do to me.]
i realize now that i always write with the same tone; that “i am disappointed in society for being so superficial, and thus i will lecture you all bitterly about your foolish ignorant blindness” tone. i don’t mean to be condescending or whatnot. i know that i am in no way even CLOSE to being able to look down at the rest of humankind with disapproval. i’m just sick of...
“i’m not thinking as clearly as i think i should, but this could be the...”
– scott simons, start of something
“you don’t have to be no one’s biography.”
– bright eyes, endless entertainment 