Life is strange

Posted: December 20, 2010 in Uncategorized

I’ve been feeling all kinds of crazy this past week, trying to be positive but it’s hard for some reason.

But I’ll be fine, as I’ve always been. It’s just I get sad a lot, or worried a lot, and I go through all these phases, you know? I remember I used to be sweet for a little while, and REALLY positive for the first week or two of the school year.

I feel guilty when I feel this way. Well in reality I feel guilt no matter WHAT feeling I have, so what’s the point. Friendships have nothing to do with it either. People like me always feel alone like this, we always think we’re screwed over and we wanna change but we’re too scared to even ask for help. If my eye hurt, I would ask for help, but if my “I” hurt, I’d be too scared to. I don’t know who to turn to. I don’t think it’s exactly psychological. And I don’t want to go into some sort of spiritual group/ retreat for obvious reasons.

I just want to at least feel the same feeling consistently, not this big tetherball game. I just hate myself, pity myself, and think everyone feels the same. That’s not even true. Some people are okay on the inside, some people don’t hate themselves this much or something. I say what if everyone does, but there are lotys of consistently positive people out there. I get too scared.

I mean it’s not like I want to kill myself or hurt myself or anything silly like that. I just need to stop worrying so much.

Well Blue October’s music helps; they’ve got a song for every mood. “Clumsy Card House.”
I really should believe in heroes. Not the phony kinds like my president or something, but to people that find a way to break free and do the things they deep down inside wanted to, the things that make them happy.

Slowly I’m learning that I don’t care what the name of my next school will be, or that I want to go to grad school in general. What matters most is that I and the people around me are, and that’s coming from the heart.

A lot of the times we go through status anxiety, or caught up in consuming goods, but who are we fooling. No one cares about stuff like that anyway and we know it. Maybe we’re all just lonely, but the ones who aren’t have a good mind. Not brain; mind.

What you wear won’t make you a confident person, at least not directly. It’s how you trick yourself into believing you are, or not tricking yourself cuz maybe you’re just a confident person. A lot of pretty people don’t think they’re pretty. That’s probably because they can’t make the connection that what they look like is pretty to other people. They make themselves synonymous with unappealing, pathetic, not worth anyone’s time, etc.

All we unconfident people can do is try to shoot up some kind of heroine, in a symbolic way, though. What I mean by this is that we kind of have to become so delusional relative to our own delusions, that we become normal. Some people dress a certain way, some people have lots of sex, some people drink, or do cocaine, or write about pointless shit like me cuz it’s better than thinking about it knowing just maybe at least one person is reading. And they don’t even have to relate either.

That’s the main reason I want to look into this whole beauty self-esteem thingy on a sociological level. The shit I’m used to hearing is it was your parent’s fault, or your genes, or the little children of the playground during recess. But all of that comes from somewhere. I guess I just wanna research what part of culture makes people feel shitty about themselves, the structures that feed into this you’re not good enough deal. maybe the media, the education system, religion, etc. I care about it. I may not like everyone, but I want everyone to be okay with themselves, or be able to change somehow if they really wanted to- for the better whatever that may be.

I don’t know if it’s raining that terribly still. I just hate being alone. Going to the observatory later tonight; going to see the lunar eclipse.
Whenever < stuff like this ha
ppens I think I'm going to witness some kind of revelation or trip out and see all this apocalyptic shit happen right before your very eyes. All I could see are my imagining thought visions, the kind you create with your head- no real stuff.

I just want to see real stuff. Maybe it means I' crazy, but I don't know; it looks cool.

I just want to keep writing. I think the shit we beceome addicted to is friendship or companionship. Like this. Writing is my friend; I'm my own best friends and worst enemy. I like writing it makes me feel human. Some people are always on facebook cuz they wanna be around people and feel comforted at the idea. Some people smoke a blunt to feel comforted, some people read books, some people shoot up crack, some people clean, some people run, some people cry a shitload (these people existI just don'tr know where they're hiding).

Dowatchulike, just don't take it out on the rest of us. I don't give a crap whether I disagree or agree with what you do. Chances are I'll dsiagree in account of my prudeness, and lack of courage to befriend you. It's not that I don't care; I just don't mind. I know how it feels.

But if you do drugs, at least know if it's something you wanna keep doing or change. If you're making your family feel like shit then you're hurting a lot of people, and that's no fun.

But if no one gets hurt but you and you like the idea of it, go ahead. That's a shitty way of life, but it's not mine.

Now how much life escaping substances can I purchase with ten dollars- paper money?

The goberment wants to stop currency eventually and make it all electronic and put a chip in you and design it in a way where you can’t even sell shit. No more drug dealing, unless it’s the president as the middleman.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s