Alright. So this is somewhat of an introduction as to what I'm going to be writing about in this little journal right here. Basically, my thoughts, my feelings and pretty much anything that happens in my life...or just when I'm bored out of my bloody mind, right now for instance is a perfect example.
So let's get started, what I've written below is just something that popped up into my head and flowed through my fingers and onto the keyboard. I'm sure my work will be more or less the same as this...thank you for reading. Enjoy.
To be lost within a world where there is no one to speak with, no one to turn to, or no one to even look at straight in the eye, signifies that you are in peril. To sit in front of a computer screen, day in and day out, represents that that particular person, you, does not want to jump in with the rest of the world. To remain hidden indoors only amplifies how afraid you are of reality, of what it can do to change your life, of how it can facilitate you from this forlorn disarray.
Secretly, you long for a connection, a sense of existence, a sense of impair, of contact, to reassure you aren’t numb. You long for past relationships to spring to your door step, invite you to tag along with them in their daily lives, to soar back into the world and in fact live; to take pleasure in life.
I am an example of someone who is so afraid of change, so afraid of the world, that I refuse to step foot out my door, to feel the heat upon my skin; to even feel someone’s eyes upon my figure terrifies me. I am a disaster, a person who is persisting to spiral downwards endlessly into a pit of despondency and solitude. My life, is my laptop screen, my life includes people who are just as hopeless as I am; fingertips at their keyboards. We communicate through a world that no other can take away, we commune in humanity that only we can appreciate. While neighbours sleep, we linger at our mainframes; we construct fictitious characters to fulfill our desires of adventure, we interact with one another, develop a story and are content with the outcome.
Through out the various quantities of residences near my own, my window, within these digits, is the only one that is lit up at three in the morning; it is the lonesome glowing bulb that resides within my room, which allows anyone who is passing by distinguish that I do not own a life. It clicks within their brain that me, out of the hundreds surrounding me, I am the most lonesome. There is no other within distance that can relieve me of these morning struggles to maintain writing. I manage to fashion personalities, and even though I have so many of them within me, I still feel lonely.
My creative genius is a drug that I simply cannot live without; my writing, my characters, my personalities are what I am; they are the very center of my existence. To take away my writing, my creativity, my characters…you have taken away my soul, my heart and my will to live. Without any of those things, I will have no trouble in removing the pistol from my drawer and concluding my own life story; the one without a purpose.
So let's get started, what I've written below is just something that popped up into my head and flowed through my fingers and onto the keyboard. I'm sure my work will be more or less the same as this...thank you for reading. Enjoy.
To be lost within a world where there is no one to speak with, no one to turn to, or no one to even look at straight in the eye, signifies that you are in peril. To sit in front of a computer screen, day in and day out, represents that that particular person, you, does not want to jump in with the rest of the world. To remain hidden indoors only amplifies how afraid you are of reality, of what it can do to change your life, of how it can facilitate you from this forlorn disarray.
Secretly, you long for a connection, a sense of existence, a sense of impair, of contact, to reassure you aren’t numb. You long for past relationships to spring to your door step, invite you to tag along with them in their daily lives, to soar back into the world and in fact live; to take pleasure in life.
I am an example of someone who is so afraid of change, so afraid of the world, that I refuse to step foot out my door, to feel the heat upon my skin; to even feel someone’s eyes upon my figure terrifies me. I am a disaster, a person who is persisting to spiral downwards endlessly into a pit of despondency and solitude. My life, is my laptop screen, my life includes people who are just as hopeless as I am; fingertips at their keyboards. We communicate through a world that no other can take away, we commune in humanity that only we can appreciate. While neighbours sleep, we linger at our mainframes; we construct fictitious characters to fulfill our desires of adventure, we interact with one another, develop a story and are content with the outcome.
Through out the various quantities of residences near my own, my window, within these digits, is the only one that is lit up at three in the morning; it is the lonesome glowing bulb that resides within my room, which allows anyone who is passing by distinguish that I do not own a life. It clicks within their brain that me, out of the hundreds surrounding me, I am the most lonesome. There is no other within distance that can relieve me of these morning struggles to maintain writing. I manage to fashion personalities, and even though I have so many of them within me, I still feel lonely.
My creative genius is a drug that I simply cannot live without; my writing, my characters, my personalities are what I am; they are the very center of my existence. To take away my writing, my creativity, my characters…you have taken away my soul, my heart and my will to live. Without any of those things, I will have no trouble in removing the pistol from my drawer and concluding my own life story; the one without a purpose.
