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[Nov. 3rd, 2009|03:19 am] |
I go through life trying to get people to believe in me. Then when they do I question them on why. I think it's about time something gives... Or gets.
.peace |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 19th, 2009|10:47 am] |
While watching Reign Over Me (good movie), I've reached a conclusion. I don't want everything because of the fear of losing it all. If I have nothing right now there's nothing to base it on, to put it into perspective. If you've never had anything, you feel like nothing is something. But if you've had everything and lost it, well then even something is nothing.
.peace |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 14th, 2009|08:45 am] |
I've had this infatuation for a while now with the idea of "zooming out." I had this idea quite a while back of what if you zoomed out from your town, from your state, from earth, from the milky way, from this universe far enough? Could this universe just be a tiny microscopic dust particles swirling around in some office building on a late Sunday night before it gets swept up Monday morning? Probably not. I guess.
And lately, since becoming interested in comic books, I've been kinda looking at life, imagining stories through the lens of a video camera, using ideas and methods the movies use; zooming out one of them. And you look at America.
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1d/CSA_states_evolution.gif
What would today be like if the south had won? The south were just a bunch of stupid racist rednecks who wanted to keep their slaves. They wanted to stay rich. It's easy to belittle them now, a measly 150 years later. But really... The south, the north, everyone here. They were just a bunch of pissed off Europeans. We were too busy fighting with the Native Americans to realize we hate ourselves. But seriously.. What would today be like if we all had Confederacy flags on the back windows of our trucks and cars? And to think it all comes down to one war. The whole idea of our present, of what makes us who we are. It all comes down to one war, one split second, one win. What if it tilted the other way?
Hell. What if the next Hitler dies from cancer? Do we *REALLY* need a cure for cancer that bad? What if the next holocaust succeeds, and in the end everybody who doesn't have blue eyes, blond hair, and believes in THIS, acts THIS way... What if everyone else dies? What if everyone else already died? Screw curing cancer if it means saving the world. Right? Or no?
..And on the seventh day, God created video games.
I dunno. We all look at ourselves, and you look around and at America. We've been around 150 years. Right? Something like that? So what are we? Two old ladies you past by in the bingo parlor put together. Two old people stacked on top of eachother. What does that say about us? But how did we get so far? If we really are the best, the free land, the American dream, all that.. If we can become all of that in 150 years, what's the difference? What's the difference between us and Canada or Mexico? Or between us and Nigeria, Namibia, or Japan? A lot? Or a little?
I googled Victoria Falls the other day and some beautiful photos came up. Pictures of an African savannah peirced by a green blade of foliage, split down the seam, bleeding it's pure blue mist of a heart out. The falls go on forever and the thunder is heard miles away, perfect bliss.. Utopia... And to think... I could die before I travel there. I have an infatuation with Africa. It might be just cause that's the rumored continent of the origin of humanity. I dunno. There's something beautiful about it. The US, what are we? A couple of old people. What is Africa? The starting point of humanity. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 22nd, 2009|05:57 am] |
'Why does the past repeat itself?
'Because the present will always see allure in the past and the future is forever unimaginable to every present.' --The Great Duurgocci (Just kidding about the name, not the statement.)
Argue against me, I dare you. I guess I'm arguing against myself here.. But as a kid when I watched old slide shows that my family had of the 60's, of the 70's, I felt left out. I felt depressed because I couldn't be a part of that particular past. There was no way for me to step through that slide show projector and step on into the slides of the past. I love oldies music because it reminds me of a time I never had. I love bell bottoms, afros, Elvis and black and white movies. All these colors just add to the insurmountable bullshit we already have. Drop it to black and white and you'll see the true story.
But the truth is the secret. Go read the book, go watch the movie. That's all you gotta understand and learn. The hard part is the learning. Things are easy to read, to see. They are much harder to understand, and even harder to learn. But the secret is something you should partake in. You wanna be a millionaire? Go become one, eh? That simple. You want true love? Go find it. Easy enough. The law of attraction. Blah. I'm just retyping shit you could be reading elsewhere.
Do you believe in aliens? Probably not. Why not? Because you have never seen them? Well then, do you believe in air? You've never seen it. Do you believe in thoughts? Just as invisible.
And yet that's all we have.
Why do you repeat the past? Because you're afraid of the future.
Argue me. I dare you. I'm just trying to help.
.peace |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 9th, 2009|10:14 am] |
Our educational system teaches our children (the future leaders of society) how to be the most productive in our society. It teaches us how to count so we can accurately count out your change as we work at Shopko, or how to flip burgers at McDonalds. What our educational system should do instead is teach us what to expect out of life and this world. Not how best to become the slave labor so the rich can get richer.
10% of the world's population owns 90% of it's money. The other 90% of us own that last 10%. And how is this fair? Teach us that in the third grade instead of how many dimes are in a dollar and then we'll be capable enough to lead a revolution in order to do something about it. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 2nd, 2009|04:54 pm] |
All it is is life is a roller coaster. You just gotta be ready for the highs and the lows, the ups and the downs.
We live in a world where George W Bush's IQ is higher than Andy Warhol's. Go figure.
.peace for a while. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 15th, 2009|06:04 am] |
...So I was watching The Leap Home from Quantum Leap the other day. Such a great show. I feel old, being in love with a show from the late 80's, early 90's. I was lucky enough to catch the reruns when I was young and smart enough to download them when I got older.
But the Leap Home, I was sad, almost depressed thinking that this is his last chance. He's ruined everything (or not, maybe that's how life went), but now he's back to where life is beautiful. If you don't follow, fuckin' download the two part edpisode. Two episode series. The Leap Home.
He goes back home as a kid and loves it, but you realize that he'll leap out of it, he'll leave it behind (like he did as a kid), and eventually miss it even more. Then I wonder, is it beautiful? Cause he gets another chance at seeing his dad (who has died a long time ago) and the rest of his family (who have since fallen into depressing states)... Then I realize, no. It's not beautiful. Because history repeats itself. And it'll all happen again... And once he's back in the future, again and again, history never rewriting itself, future never unpredicting it's past.. And he's right back where he started...
But it is a beautiful episode. And if anyone never got into Quantum Leap, well you should download those two episodes for the sake of watching them. Peace. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 1st, 2009|08:02 am] |
The downfall of human existence will eminate entirely from human nature. We are our own worst enemy. Nothing can kill us but ourselves. Nothing can kill you but yourself. To live is to die. And to die is to...
Live..
Life.
And where does that lead us? Back to the beginning... Of trying to solve this unsolvable mathematical yet hypothetical equation of 'life.' Adding big words can make anybody seem smarter. /hug Now what am I trying to do? Seem smarter? Or make fun of the idea of seeming smarter? I can't tell.. /dumbfounded
"The man who realizes his ignorance has taken the first step toward knowledge." --Max Heindel, who in a befuddling proposition, was an intelligent Christian.
...And to once again suggest everything leads to something... The definition of befuddling includes, '2. to make stupidly drunk.' I have decided to give up on drinking. Wish me luck. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 21st, 2009|11:19 am] |
I wish I could create an invisibility potion so I could get into the back seat of a chick's car, and listen to what her and her best friend talk about..
Well either that, or seriously sit in on a conversation between two females whose IQ's are abcve 120... Somehow, for whatever odd reason... That seems like a hard thing to do.
Make an invisibility potion, of course.
.peace |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 11th, 2009|05:31 am] |
So I seriously picked up my guitar for the first time in about two years today. As in, 'seriously,' I mean playing for over an hour. When all the other times have been for 15, 30, 60 seconds... And I figured I could be a little better. So I search online for 'guitar playing form,' in hopes of coming across a forum where actualy guitarists may aid me in where to put my concentration...
And I kid you not, the second website that came up was, 'guitar hero game forum.' This is the world we live in. You search for an outlet, for a way of getting better at one thing, and the results are littered with stupid websites about a game that tries to emulate that thing.
One day we will search online for 'working out tips,' and all the results will be full of, 'EA Workout Game: 2012 game tips!' and 'Creating a good six pack for your Sims 14 character!' and... And... I don't even want to continue imagining.. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 9th, 2009|04:35 am] |
'pain [peyn]
–noun
1.physical suffering or distress, as due to injury, illness, etc.
2.a distressing sensation in a particular part of the body: a back pain.
3.mental or emotional suffering or torment: I am sorry my news causes you such pain.
4.pains,
a.laborious or careful efforts; assiduous care: Great pains have been taken to repair the engine perfectly.
b.the suffering of childbirth.
5.Informal. an annoying or troublesome person or thing.'
People like to think they know pain. People like to feel sorry for themselves and they like to make others care. I'm not saying I know pain. I'll admit I don't. I'm a small kid from a small town staring at the sky.
And still this society soils us into thinking we know what it's like to 'hurt.' Move to a third world country then imagine what despair is like.
Everything is based on everything else. To you, suffering is missing your favorite TV show. To her, suffering is losing her first true love. To him, suffering is losing his best friend to a bullet. It's this, it's that. And when you find the true definition of pain, you always put a ceiling up. You put a ceiling up in your little houses, and you act like you KNOW pain. You live pain. You know what it's like. But you're living in one teeny tiny house in the middle of sky scrapers and nobody cares.
Everybody hurts for the first time in their life, and that amount of pain is the most they've ever felt. So they throw up a ceiling, and define THAT as pain. Then if something worse happens, the ceiling moves up a foot or an inch, and now THAT'S the real meaning of pain. Nobody steps outside of their little houses and looks around at the sky scrapers. Nobody bothers caring about how high someone else's definition of pain is... Because once you're alone in your little house, the ceiling is all that matters. Not the outside world, not how high the ceiling might be. Because that doesn't concern you. What concerns you is the fact that the ceiling is there. Here.
From Good Will Hunting.
'So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared shitless kid.' |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 3rd, 2009|11:52 pm] |
A little update directed at anyone who "keeps up with me" or used to read my journal.
So I now work at Wal Mart and push carts. For a living, for almost a year now. That's my job. I work over nights and I push carts. I do other things, many other things too, but I like to keep it simple. And I like the idea that one person can grab me and call me a stupid cart pusher... While someone else looks at me as Leonardo da Vinci. And still someone else looks at me as the greatest guitarist he ever met. And to someone else, I'm a fucker you don't wanna fuck with. It's all fun... To play these different roles. But the major role I play, 40 hours a week, is that of a cart pusher for Wal Mart...
A few months ago working overnights at Wal Mart was starting to get to me. I was almost fearing I was going crazy. Then I realized I'm not in the deep end yet, I'm still on the edge of the pool, holding on. I'm fine. I'm not going crazy. I'm just learning and understanding things.
And then I realized I'm really learning a lot. Me right now is SO much smarter than me from one year ago. I used to sit home, play video games, and drink soda all day. That's what I did. And it never opened my mind. Now, working at Wal Mart, I understand how things work. I have a manager who talks to me on that level he's not supposed to talk to workers. I kinda bridge the gap. I see things as they are.. I mean, working at Wal Mart.
I understand every worker at Wal Mart is just a number. Is just a symbol. A symbol of the money sign. $ That's all they are. If they can't make the money for the managers, for the owners, they're cast out. If an associate shows he or she cannot add to that large sum of money at the end of the day, he's cast out. He's sent packing. That's all it comes down to. The money. If the money doesn't come in, the owner, the top dog is pissed. He then yells at the next level of dogs, they yell at the next level, the water keeps on dripping down, and eventually you hear it. The managers of your store find out they're getting bitched at, so they get pissed off and yell at all the workers, all the hourly pieces of shit busting their asses for 7 dollars and 10 cents per hour. I wonder how much you get for fucking old rich ladies. 'Fucking,' a verb, not an adjective.
So the money doesn't come in, the owners get pissed, and that results in your managers freaking out on you, making you feel worthless so you can go home depressed, worrying about your work, your job security, whether you'll be fired in a week or not.. All that. Wake up from your dreams because you're dreaming about leaving empty pallets, trip hazards, on the store floor. Wake up. This is your life. Trying to please one piece of shit so they in return can please another piece of shit one step up higher than them on the ladder. Then that person goes off and gives a hand job to his boss, whom goes and sucks the dick of the owner of all the Wal Marts on this world. Here's a bit of info for you:
On a good day we pull in $350,000. On an "averagely good day." We always pull in 300k+. Every day. In one day. That's how much cash all the ants and maggots run into Wal Mart, one single Wal Mart in one small town, a small town that has two Wal Marts, among other stores... And that's how much one store pulls in from all the ticks and leeches who come flocking to our store with their pockets pulled out.. So they can get that TV that's one inch bigger, or that new video game system they're just dying for, even though they already have every other one. You've got 24 hours in one day. How many are devoted to video games? And how many, of those, are devoted to different systems? How much bull shit do you need?
Enough to make you think you matter in this fucked up world of ours. Everybody is a tool. Everybody is an ant. Just a tiny little blip running around having sex with other blips. That's all it is. Nothing more. What separates you from the owner of all the Wal Marts? Probably a couple of IQ points. A couple, as in 2. 122 - 124. Big difference, right? What separates the bees from the kings? Nothing, really. So the owner has a bigger TV, has a nicer car, has a prettier wife. But he's still right there. That's all he is. Just a tool. Sitting there looking pretty. Nothing too far out there. No different from you. So that's where it all comes back to? The owner of Wal Mart is a tool and he's just like you. So you're just a tool too? No. You're special. (points finger at you, the reader) Wink.
.peace |
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| Bipolar disorders, orgies with donkies, and football! Yay! |
[Jun. 3rd, 2009|11:36 pm] |
From the first paragraph of the wikipedia article for Bipolar Disorder:
'Extreme manic episodes can sometimes lead to psychotic symptoms such as delusions and hallucinations.'
So yeah... I'm not dissing you or anything, but I think mental disorders in general are fuckin' hard for anyone who doesn't have them / experienced them in a close friend of family member to comprehend. It's not like alocholism. I can grab somebody, point the finger, and say 'You're a fuckin' drunk. And that's why you are the way you are.' Like just grab a person and slam a title to him. Mental disorders aren't like that. A mental disorder, bipolar included, is an ocean. Maybe you can grab a fourth of the people who have it, toss them into a boat full of drugs, and say they all have bipolar II, since their symptoms are similar.. And then you can grab another fifth of the patients and say to them, 'You all have Cyclothymia cause you're most similar to that term than those others..' But that just leads to wondering what everyone else has and waiting til something big or serious happens to look any further into it, it's all just.. Blah. Like grabbing a football player, and telling him he's a running back, when he also plays on special teams, returns punts, played CB / S / WR in college, and every other single position in high school. You could just look at him and classify him as a football player and it'd be so much easier. But the doctors, the people who don't know the brain (but think they do) like to do it differently, say 'this is you, this is what you do, this is what you have, and that's why you are who you are.' It's all bullshit.
Like the people who say marijuana is a gateway drug. Sure as fuck it is, but that's just cause it's the first one everyone does. Like you're not gonna go buy a donkey, hire 2 male prostitutes, then have an orgy to get off, ya know? Cause you haven't even done it with two chicks yet. I mean, on the spectrum of fucking, I'd like to think fucking a chick is first, then two chicks at once, then maybe somewhere down the line, fucking a donkey and two dudes at once is somewhere far away, you know? I ain't gonna do that first (I mean I don't think I'd ever do THAT)... But you can't take all the people who like to fuck 2 dudes and a donkey at once, classify them as that, and say 'fucking a girl led to this.' Cause it's just not true. Lots of people fuck chicks but not donkeys.. As lots of people do marijuana but not shrooms or acid. You can pick up someone who does acid and say the first drug he did was marijuana, as you could pick up someone who fucks donkey and dudes in orgies, and say he probably started off with a chick... But they are not related. But shit, I'm forgetting what I was saying...
I think the brain is an ocean, a fuck spectrum / drug mine. Once you do marijuana, the "gateway drug," it's a lot easier to pull the trigger and try LSD or shrooms, or this or that. If you don't do weed, you might not be a crack addict a week later. The same for fucking. If you haven't fucked one chick yet, you probably won't be having orgies with donkeys or threesomes any time soon. But once you fuck one chick, it's easier to 'pull the trigger' and fuck another chick, or that chick, or two chicks at once, or whatever the fuck else it leads to. One you open a door, it's easy to go inside the room. And I think mental disorders are like that. If you grab one person and a doctor told him he has Bipolar I. I mean, what does that fuckin' say? That he is happy and sad, and sometimes both? If you have Bipolar I, I think there's a big chance your brain, the ocean it is, could maybe have something else. Grabbing one human and slamming a title on him, telling him he has 'Bipolar I' and that's it, and all he has to worry about are the symptoms and prognosis shit of Bipolar I and that's it... That's just garbage. And that's what doctors do, and since we all 'simple humans' think doctors are smart and worth listening to, you know.. We agree with them and fall into that whole 'categorizing' theme too. But it's all garbage right from the beginning. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 20th, 2009|04:20 am] |
God, I had a stupid dream last night where I was running around with this stupid little girl (little, as in intellectually, she was actually my age), and I ran up to my chevy camaro (in my dream, I really don't have one) and made it honk with the starter thing on my keys.. And as I open the door and get in, the girl is jumping up and down, saying, 'OMG this is your car?! This is your car?!' and I nodded and opened the door for her.. Then slammed my foot down on the gas and rode off into the sunset... Maybe.
Now I'm sitting back and wondering is that really my *dream?* Am I destined to fail and fall into this materialistic culture of ours, buy a nice car and a big TV, mansion too... Only to realize, once at the top, that all this is garbage and there's no reason behind it? No love behind it? Hmph.
I will buy a nice car one day. TV? I don't care.. I don't have cable. I don't watch TV. But a car? Sure.
.peace |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 20th, 2009|03:40 am] |
Fall Down Seven Times.
. ... . . . .
. . . . .. .
.. . . ..
... . .
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...
. .
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get up eight.
.peace |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 18th, 2009|09:03 am] |
One point perspective. Everything leads to one thing.
Anything else. Everything leads to something.
My life is a series of me building sand castles too close to the water's edge. Every tower I build, every castle that grows will eventually fall and wash away. Every time.
Eventually I'll build something large enough for the entire world to see.
However it too, will fall down one day.. And wash away. Which is understandable..
..Because in it's death, something new will rise.
.peace |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 13th, 2009|12:17 pm] |
Everybody is a failure.
It's just you gotta succeed first. |
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| My take on... |
[May. 13th, 2009|11:19 am] |
Plato's Cave.
There's 4 people sitting in a cave watching a wall, with moving pictures. They're shadows. There's a fire behind them, they aren't allowed to look, and objects cast shadows. Eventually they start playing games, naming off the shadows. A duck walks across the fire, so they see the shadow of a duck and the first to name it wins. Then something else. Anyway... That's their life. That's their job. That's what they do.
Eventually someone comes by and unlocks one of the locks chaining these people to the cave. The guy unlocked stands up, looks up, see's the fire, see's the symbols moving across, realizes the inanity of it all, the pointlessness.. And so he see's a staircase leading up out of the cave. He walks up, gets out, and is blinded by the sunlight. The first time he has seen the sun, and he's blinded. As his eyes return to him, he notices that the world is beautiful. Grass everywhere, he see's ducks swimming in a nearby pond, realizes the ducks he saw on the cave wall were just illusions, shadows of *real* ducks. He see's other animals, other things he couldn't have even fathomed. And he is enlightened. It is beautiful.
Eventually he goes back down to the cave, talks to the other 3 ppl, saying about all this world out there, the real ducks, how they're all just looking at a wall. They reply to him as if shunning him. 'What?! What're you talking about? Stop talking! We're watching this!' It's turned into a game. Who can name the animals and things fastest wins. The guy sits down, ashamed, and takes part in the game. But his eyes are now adjusted to the sunlight, the beauty. He feels inane, pointless. His eyes cannot adjust, the people beat him. He used to be the best at this game, but now he loses every round. The other people, their eyes are still adjusted to the dark of the cave, they name off everything as fast as it appears. But he's lost. He puts his head down, feels depressed, and walks back out of the cave. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 11th, 2009|10:26 am] |
Insanity does not exist.
Leads me to a quote from 1984, 'Sanity is statistical.'
Okay, not really. Insanity does not exist.
Can you pick any random human being without speaking, look at them, the way they act, dress, or look and say they're insane? No. Most commonly known "insane" people look More ordinary, average than the average people. You cannot.
So how, looking into their mind, into their brains, can you tell? You cannot. There is no insanity.
Only different levels of sanity. Of intelligense. Nothing more.
You can't look at one fish and say he's totally fine, he's just being a fish, swimming around, looking for food, drinking and breathing water. Then you pick another fish who attacks and kills fellow fish, who jumps up in the air and breaths it, who swims around in circles looking for water when it's already there. He's not insnae. He's just a fish. Maybe MORE a fish than the previous one. Or LESS than the previous one. But a fish nonetheless.
And then there's humans. They're all on ONE scale. Quote me here. One scale.. And that is--
Okay I forget what I was gonna say. I sweat. But I KNOW it started with an R. Respect? No... R.... Rrr...... I forget. If I remember Ill post it. Adios for now. R. R. Are. RRRRRr |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 6th, 2009|06:07 am] |
http://mingkoysmind.blogspot.com/
Funniest article I've read in a while..
It's funny. If he's right, 'how to kill yourself painlessly' or 'how to commit suicide without pain' is one of the most searched for things on the internet. Which explains it all.. Everything comes back tenfold, in a cycle. Technology = downfall. Stupidity = bliss.
Do you think African tribes search the internet for quick ways of killing yourself?
Is it because they don't have the means? Or because they don't have the desire? Hmm? Worth pondering. Not really.
In this culture of ours, this beautiful society.. First off I don't want people to think I'm disillusioned by society, that I'm some hermit wannabe who's constantly raising his fist in anger at "society as we know it." Because I'm not. Well that, and if I were I'd be one step closer to insanity. I mean the edge. I'm joking. I'd never kill myself. Other people? Sure. Myself? Neeeeeeevvvar!
But this culture we've got going.. Not only us Americans but any industrialized nation, any country up there with us when it comes to our way of life. I curse the gold rush. The American Dream is empty inside. It just takes suicide (for a LOT of people) to realize it. There. I said it. Money will never bring you happiness. Remember that. And die by it. Live by it. It's out there in the open, right here in my blog. And YOU (points finger) heard it first. Understand it. Because it's always true. But only for the people who get a lot of it. Not for the poor people who win the lottery.
They'll live in their precious little trailers, white trailer park trash, win the lottery, cash it all and take it all (cause who wants to WAIT for 500 million dollars when you could have, GASP, 1 million right NOW?! WOW!), waste it all. Go buy a nice house, a fancy car, a pretty little lady (until she leaves you or until the money runs out, whichever comes first.. Coincidentally they both will probably happen at the same time), a nice life.. The bright lights, the beauty, the love, the joy, the happiness... The happiness. Then when the money's gone and you're standing off at the end of a dead end, a one way street looking the other way, sunset behind you, sunrise waiting to happen... And you've got your pockets pulled out, lint falling on the ground when only one week ago you were handing out hundred dollar bills at the strip club. Now look at yourself. You asked for it. Watch out what you ask for.
The *real* rich people.. They live with it. They don't lose it, they don't kill themselves cause they think they need more of it. They learn to cope with it. They learn to cope with a flesh eating bacteria, a disease rotting on the insides.. Tearing apart their flesh, their stomachs, their organs, seeping through their bloodstreams, green. Greed. Greed follows green. And they learn to live with this disorder that's fucking them from the inside out. And they change. They let the money change them. They hold their heads up a little bit too high. Yeah, sure, starting off they're fine. They've got their heads high, their long strides. They look casual, decent, dare I say almost beautiful? But once it hits them you can tell. Their heads look like they're going to fall off backwards, neck paper cut open by the sharp edge of a million dollar bill, redness turns to blackness. And it's over. And we are back where we started.
Suicide is never the way out. Because everything's a cycle. You've got to learn how to puncture that cycle, how to change it, make it into an elipse or an oval, not just some never ending circle. You gotta change your boundaries, step onto the other side of the line, color outside the lines, look outside the box. That is life. A never ending circle / cycle you're supposed to avoid. Offing yourself just leads back to the beginning. Cause once you kill yourself you'll be in a worse place than you are right now. Believe me.
And once you're there all you'll be thikning about it killing yourself again.. But lucky for you, by then you've realized that maybe it's not such a hot idea.
Go watch 'Wristcutters: A Love Story.'
Until next time, my precious little seabunnies...
I hope you all could follow my caffeine influenced drunken state of mind. I judge how "off" I am at any given time by how many spelling errors I make. I haven't seen any yet. But not seeing something never really means it's not there. It just means it's not there to *you.*
.peace |
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duurg's journal