inreaction

Where do you go with your broken heart in tow?
What do you do with the left over you?
And how do you know, when to let go?
Where does the good go? Where does the good go?

Where do you go when you’re in love and the world knows?
How do you live so happily while I am sad and broken down?
What do you say it’s up for grabs now that you’re on your way down?
Where does the good go? Where does the good go?

idk dude. help me out on this one.


all this tradition has left me in the contemplative mood of doubt.

how am i really doing?

i am becoming unraveled because i am starting to revel in the most common of experiences. i am beginning to feel the dastardly weight of “should.” i am falling into constant discord with all around me.

i am becoming unraveled because i have been looking for success at the expnse of the pride of others. i’ve grown tired of needing to push others down in order to feel afloat. my lackadaisical nature has drifted into a spirited argumentative streak.

but not all the responsibilty lays beneath my head. some seem to have such ease in pushing me over the edge. i have grown to hatred and become accustomed to doubting every word and every action. perpetual regret has found its home between my eyes. i am angered by those i love–i see all of earth as a spinning mass of hypocritical and floating people whom i hold no connection with and little admiration for.

depression is a label not kin to my mental frame. it’s not sadness but disappointment in the realization that i am negative enough to believe that optimism is ridiculous and callous foolery–sanddened only by my view (that happiness is fleeting). the blood is better suited for boiling than simmering. or perhaps i am abnormally passionate (although my passions are far and few–i feel as though i am strongest in belittling).

i haven’t written because i felt optimism is what i should be gushing. after all everything “is going wel.” but i’m slipping in the cracks of reality and wishing time would move ahead and my footing would drift away from mankind.

it’s not sadness i feel but guilt and disappointment in myself for feeling sad. i’ve got no tears to give but i despise the movie-teenager turns my life is taking. i want to shun society and really move past this made-for-tv fashion of living.

i’ve been pondering new hobbies to make my phase easier. i thought ballet but i don’t want to take lessons. i thought fashion or clothes design but i don’t have drawing capabilities. i even thought about writing a book but plotlines make me sick. so i’m suck here.

if every paragraph starts with “i” it’s because i can’t speak for anyone and no one has the gull to tell me how they really feel about anything important. i know no one wants depth but god damn it i’m dying playing this talk shit all day game. speak up and don’t talk about meaningless crap all day–HOW MANY DAYS DO YOU THINK YOU HAVE?

for god’s sake spare me of these people’s mindless games. don’t tell me who you have a crush on or what your gpa is. don’t ask me to join your team. let’s get past this shit before we’ve passed our future.

i know you’re thinking i talk as much about inconsequential things as anyone. i don’t care. this world is about deceit and hypocrisy. this is how i feel . if this isn’t your fancy then say so. i’m not going to hate you for it–i’ll applaud you for actually doing something other than clicking out of teh window.

life is about pulling the strings of your harp while hoping someone will come sing the song. but your soprano won’t come. those who really matter wil inevitably pretend not to hear the melody. you can be obvious or subtle, but no change in attitude will increase your chances.

“increasing your chances.” how foolish must one be to write those words? life is not about chance, it’s about a monotonus predictability prescribed by personality. it’s not about words and it’s not about beauty. it’s about paradox becoming logic. it’s about hypocrisy becomign real. it’s about deceit becoming truth and peace becoming tragedy.

exclusion is the only salvation. or it’s the easy way yout. i’ll tell you once i figure it out. greatness is unsustainable. rome, cairo, persepolis, athens. pedestals became footstools and marble became sand. italisn gold became the air you breathe. egyptian pharoes became wax.

who are you to stand in it’s way?

by lord byron

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!