A project of self reflection. |
I ought to begin journalising my life from now on. I hope to ramble on my laptop all day long hoping to lead myself into a ,savior. I yearn for a stroke of luck like a bug yearns for heat.?Hardships await the man who is not selfish.The man who calls himself a man but is but a boy in a mans body.He thinks so highly of himself .He thinks he will be better than them.Yet here he is, so inferior.What wrong has he done to deserve this.I write this hoping maybe someone will read it.Someone i expect empathy from.Empathy? Pity? my pride laughs . Someone like her ,or him,or a random stranger.Maybe unconciously i started this because of you,to be able to rid ,even if partially, the poisons of the past.How they churn at my heart.Sometimes i wish i wasnt so imaginative,so that i didnt picture you, like a painter pictures his next masterpiece,in settings so familiar and depressing.I yearn for the love i once experienced . a nostalgic longing .not like smelling an old aroma of a place you once went to as a child,but like a painful memory, this somber longing,not for you,but for a feeling.a feeling like a drug,like cocaine.ironically,ive never had cocaine.but, i think it will have no effect.my days pass so quickly and my moments so slow.im afraid if i took cocaine,id hallucinate you right infront of my eyes.oh, you. He who demands respect is to me the unrespected,unless for him.the sacrificing father,he who cuts his limbs up to preserve his family.he does not deserve my respect, he deserves my utmost in love and honor.how does he not bend in the face of the ultimate adversities.raising children must be hell.i wish i could write more about him,but mine is only fueled by experienced emotions,such young words like love and respect have no name in a dictionary that describes what is between us.they are undeserving of that place..i love the stranger until he is no longer,and then,he is no longer.and so i love him more until he returns to be,and then he is no longer.//and so the stranger i meet, in limbo,between hard times.so temporary are they,yet their moments so slow.i fear having a life so unassuming ,in my eyes, that i do not know what to document.do i even like to document my failures.these hard tests just keep coming,and i keep on failing.an outsider might say otherwise,but they are not me,for i am the theoretical perfectionist,yet the realistic failure.my head reaches so much farther than my hand.i can see myself in the future,yes.on the bright side,i think everything else is so boring now that i could do nothing but excel.i wonder if i have it easier than others, or if i just have a high pain tolerance.im no psycho, i know,maybe.maybe i have it easier because of that.why go to the therapist,when im right here.why are you so afraid to tell me.is it because paying them makes it so they keep what you say a secret?i have no problem being paid.remember,these are ramblings,and although they hold meaning,it is still rambling.i understand it ,i do.but how,how do i make my fingers and mind move.MEMORISE ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT. i wish i had the time but the sloth in me has hobbies he does quickly,like this,and the slothness in which he avoids what is academically benficial.someday,someday,someday i will reach it.these ramblings improove my typing expertise.i wish i could have thoughts that do not contradict each other,so that i would not hesitate to write them down.am i my own thoughts?no,then i would be a murdurer,a criminal,a cheater.im just human.is it me or is the world too focused,cant we catch a break for a day,even weekends seem hard,i just want a true peace of mind.if i get that,will i leave my documentation?maybe i dont want a peace of mind after all.i thought you were the love of my life,maybe you are.you cannot imagine the sadness i hid behind the neutrally positive face,the doom i felt after i knew i didnt say goodbye.perhaps i am too obsessed,but when i love,its 100%.and i hope .....no,im just a bad memory to you.minutes and hours pass and i still remember fragments here and there.they come to me like a mirage,as i see my past mistakes so clearly.rewind me back so that i can stop it.i beg you.its been almost a year.i want to be there for you,whoever you are.it is so hard to make original quotes when all the english you know is less than that of a ten year old american.books were so interesting when i was younger,now they are a burden to hold and comprehend.where will they lead me,will this even be of value in the future.having more questions than answers is usually normal,but i have no answers ,and so so so many questions.i know nothing.all 19 years of my life,wasted potential.the next one maybe.without optimism, i dont know where id be right now.hope is the strongest thing in my arsenal.yet,it does not stop me from seeking refuge between these lines.my face is carved right here,letter by letter,word by word.look me in the eyes and read my story like a poorly written journal.complex thoughts and emotions flailed around like souvenirs from a rather long and tediously traumatic trip.self relection is awesome until you cannot understand what you see in the mirror.is that really me?ew.//writing to me is therapy.it used to be reading ,and maybe it still is,but now,nothing is worth reading.my thirst for outside knowledge has not been quenched,but is has rather been replaced by a new hunger,understanding oneself and controlling oneself.like the way i think twice about saying things.now,just onto not thinking of it in the first place.such depressing thoughts.i feel like im stuck between a rock and a piece of slime.one choice is just hard,the other is slow,painfully and endlessly pushing back until i just need to go to the rock.i wish it was different,but if it was ,it would be worse.worse than this?really?memories are holding on to me like a reverse dementia patient.am i in the healing phase?cuz im feeling more self aware every day.100 times a day turns to 60 then 59 then 58...its gonna take a while to forget.i hate societal norms and patterns because they make me think that im no different,just a statistic in a world that repeats.i thought for me it would be different,that it would work out.turns out,i am only human,with circumstances more human than i can think.sorry for readers reading this just thinking im whining,but i think i earned that when i started this journal.if you want me without all the hassle,be someone i know.by reading this,you are noone but me ,and if you are not,then i hope you have some empathy.even though i have so many other thoughts,it always goes back to you.so selfish of you to take up so much space.im just a bad lover.lets think of other things,like . . .maybe im overestimating my ability to take my mind off you,but i swear,ive got some good ideas up in my brain behind my highly inflated,yet fragile,ego.i wonder where i got my writing style from,is there a website for that kinda stuff?ill check next time i have internet.on the bright side,//i was reminded of her perfume today,it was called "my way",pretty fitting.i can't express the feeling i have when those who are so perfect,probably to my low standards,are right beside me,yet unattainable.their actions so feminine,delicate,their bodies entice me.why do i think of such futile things.randomness is sometimes unexpected,which is expected.i expect to see something unexpected.am i smart for ascertaining such meaningless paradox.i wish i could value what others see in me as valuable,to me it is meaningful,such lofty thinking seems to me inferior to earthly,sturdy,logically realistic basis.i only find inspiration when in the dark,now i am illuminated.//It seems like there is hope, after a long time I tend to normalize my situations, so much so that I find things easier to do.Some things that ahve been so complex have become simple.Study and you will pass, even excell.These excerpts getting shorter doesnt mean i have less on my mind, in fact i have so much more.It just means that im doing something else,maybe not more important,but how should i know.I am guided by instinct first,then logic.maybe//life is weird, i feel sympathy for all those around me,after i had just studied them like a cop studies a corpse(wrong analogy).it frightens me how differently i can change in mere moments,it scares me.people are weird,they are indirect,inefficient,dumb.maybe thats because most people i know are less than the age of 22 and still amateurs in the game of life.their faces bring me to shame,how i have failed them.//whoever reads this, be sure that iit is in times of distress,life gets better,sometimes.//I still miss "You"//Nostalgia hits hard, times when I would not worry about grades, gpa, women, my future, the world. I just cared about beating my brother on street fighter alpha 2, its soundtracks hitting my brain and frying themselves upon it for years, I am happy that my childhood is defined by such fun, while others have their childhoods defined by war missiles, domestic abuse, and more sinister, and horrible events. my life is hard, and so should be every life, and I am thankful for such a hard life// i dreamt of you a few days ago, i thought i had forgotten. i wish i wasn't attached to people, or just that they could reciprocate//I am glad that I have faith, for without it, I would certainly be lost. I miss you, like you were dead.// In the midst of war I worry for you while doubting if you are, but i dont hesitate in making sure you are alright.am i obsessed , someone who sees this might think so, maybe i am. maybe my neverending search for a perfect world is because in it we might be together,because i blame the flaws of this world for my shortcomings. i want to make a change,really,because of everything i have experienced, i never want anyone to love in a world like i have , is that too much to ask. the moment i have enough to make a change, i will,because i love, i love you, i love them, i love everyone.//all addicts have a relapse, and as my addiction, traces of you seem to pop up everywhere.i cant seem to stop favoriting your photos. i still think how you feel, not just about me but also in general.the world is a big place, enough for both of us to be happy without each other. and i hate that. i hate that i can forget about you even for a couple minutes, because even though it might apply only to movies, i want to remember you and only you for the rest of my life if we're not together. its impossible, life goes on, we have university , then jobs, family matters, other stuff.but you were my world. If i am not with you then at least your image motivates me to make the best of what i have , because i cant imagine having a better life than with you, your flaws,everything, and i can only settle for the next best thing, a life of success. The only fear i have is that I am forgotten by you, because what i am bordering on obsession is too much, i think, to compare to any other person's memories, but i will take any sign that is enough to reassure me that in another world, we'd be together. Statistical. metaphysical love is my only hope. but my tears, my pain, my sadness. theyre all real. The fact is, every excerpt from this text is a relapse. A relapse after a painful scroll through my gallery and seeing your beautiful face while regret hits me like a rock, and I fear i will never stop. |