Details
- Last Login
- 06/04/2012 8:40 am
- Member Since
- 08/08/2005
- Location
- Hiding in your pants
- Occupation
- Killing kittens.
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Wish List
About
I'm at the edge of it all, and I can't look down. I'm way too high up, choking on clouds and dreaming to be someone worth something. But, I can't be somebody that I'm not, and I'm perfectly okay with that. I'm an aclustic shade of green. I don't know what I am, who I am, what I was never meant to be. I know the universe doesn't care about meaning, but as a human, despite my nihilistic tendencies, I sometimes wonder why I am what I am. Humans give things meaning, and I hate that. There doesn't need to be a reason that I am. I just am, and that's all. No matter how many formulas you pump into something, there's always a "why?". There is no reason. Why am I how I am? I just am. Because. Just because. I am a part of the universe. I AM the universe. I don't need a meaning. I just am.
I'm a writer, or at least I try to be. It's the only thing that really keeps me grounded anymore. I remember once that I wanted to write for a living. That dream kind of crashed and burned, though, because I can't write for other people. I follow my own guidelines, and it's so impossible for me to write what others want. It's like forcing thoughts; it just doesn't work. I write when I'm sad, usually, because it spouts inspiration like nothing else. I'm not as sad as I used to be, however. I hated myself at one point, because I was thoroughly convinced that I wasn't good enough for myself, let alone anyone else. But I see different now. Not so much that I think I'm worth anything, but more that I don't have to be. ******** other people, and ******** what they think. I am who I am, and I'm okay with that, no matter how dysfunctional I am.
I'm kind of spiritual, but not religious. I don't believe in anything other than myself and the universe, because that's all I can perceive. Who else am I? I'm a philosopher, an anarchist, a realist, a nihilist, a moral relativist, etc. The list goes on, but these are just adjectives. These are who I am and not WHAT I am. I am everything. I am you.
I just am.
I'm a writer, or at least I try to be. It's the only thing that really keeps me grounded anymore. I remember once that I wanted to write for a living. That dream kind of crashed and burned, though, because I can't write for other people. I follow my own guidelines, and it's so impossible for me to write what others want. It's like forcing thoughts; it just doesn't work. I write when I'm sad, usually, because it spouts inspiration like nothing else. I'm not as sad as I used to be, however. I hated myself at one point, because I was thoroughly convinced that I wasn't good enough for myself, let alone anyone else. But I see different now. Not so much that I think I'm worth anything, but more that I don't have to be. ******** other people, and ******** what they think. I am who I am, and I'm okay with that, no matter how dysfunctional I am.
I'm kind of spiritual, but not religious. I don't believe in anything other than myself and the universe, because that's all I can perceive. Who else am I? I'm a philosopher, an anarchist, a realist, a nihilist, a moral relativist, etc. The list goes on, but these are just adjectives. These are who I am and not WHAT I am. I am everything. I am you.
I just am.
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Journal
My mind..my thoughts..my dreams
What's in my head at the moment.
Signature
Sunday afternoon
in the deep south:
pair of black bugs
on the windshield
getting it on.
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