Posts tagged thoughts

With rash of bad news abound in the world I am brought forefront to what I fear most, death. As with most, the thought of it occurs mostly when sleep is elusive and I start to imagine the rest of eternity as nothing, as was the eternity before I was born. No consciousness, no choice, no return. God (odd use of him here), I hate the thought and will force myself from bed to shake it from my skin.

But it’s more the moment of death itself, or rather, it’s impending doom. I’d hate to die slowly, knowing I’m going. I’d hate to die quickly, with no second to reflect.

I want to die in a heroic effort.

I’m not talking legacy here. Everyone wants to be remembered and very few are past a generation or two. Do you know anything about your great grandparents? How about their parents? Surely they did some amazing things that are now lost in eternity. Sure there are a few books, biographies and such. Firefighters died on 9/11 as hero’s. They knew they could die. They live with that each and every time they go into a fire. There are many, like soldiers that know the same thing. I think it would be great to be thought of in that way, but that’s not really the point of this musing.

If there came a moment that I had to give my life for someone I love or care for, I would do it in a flash, perhaps a stranger. That hardly separates me from you as most would. The point I’m getting at is that in that moment I wouldn’t care about dying, eternity. I wouldn’t be scared at all as somehow death was a good thing. It would be on my terms, for something worth it. That’s how I’d like to go out.

And yeah, not much chance of that happening, but again, its not the point here. It’s just kind of a self revelation of death and feeling good about it. It’s nice to know there is a way to go with a smile as in Here I Come! I can accept that.

I’ll probably die at 90, barely aware of whats going on, or of a sucky heart attack far sooner than I am ready. Don’t want that.

Dying as a hero is one thing. Dying heroing is another. I think…

I hope this doesnt come off as selfish…it’s just a thought

Was at a stoplight today and looked over. I always look. Next to me is always a life, someone who has short or long lifetime of living. Maybe it was fucking incredible, maybe they’ll kill themselves or someone else later that day. The thing is, is that we’re all out there wondering about with our little lives wondering if we’ll make a difference.

Well, these two losers were, in a shitty assed way. Both ‘ladies’ were toking away at their ciggies. It’s not that I care that they smoke, smoking never really bothered me that much. Some people just need it to get by. I had a girlfriend who smoked. She used to burn me by accident all the time cause she never paid much attention to her actions. Didn’t like kissing her unless I had been drinking. No one likes to kiss an ashtray. But she was my first, so I tended to let things slide.

But these two, puffing away with the window cracked, somehow thinking that was good enough so the little kid strapped in the carseat in back seat wouldn’t be forced to suck in their foul smoke. It just pissed me off, you know? I was about to say something but the light turned. It wouldn’t have made any difference. They would have just given one of those fuck you looks.

Some days you can make a difference, some days you can’t.

I’ll admit it, I’m attracted to broken people. I don’t know why, perhaps that they are so deeply and passionately aware of their own despair, trying to find balance between life and death. I crave this passion, wrap my heart around it.

I don’t feel sorry for the Broken Girl, she would hate that. I don’t judge her. I don’t try to fix her [anymore]. I don’t pretend to know what she is feeling. I inquire. I listen. I read. I want to learn. I will hold your hand and offer friendship where maybe there was none. If you should get better I would smile, not abandon. I know that being ‘better’ doesn’t mean being cured. It’s all a matter of how low you’ve gone as to how far you can come back.

I have never ‘lost’ a friend, but many have gone off. My biggest regret was an ED/SI friend I had for a year on greatestjournal. She journaled every day the mess of a life she had, lying bleeding and puking on her bathroom floor. It was amazing in its own, but no less amazing than what I’ve seen here on tumblr. She asked me at one point to help her look to get her journal published, ala Ellen Hopkins, but I waited too long. The website died rather quickly and all her words, poems, pictures and life was gone. She went on to Myspace and dove into partying. She stopped blogging and then disappeared. I know her story is far from unique. I know a cutter who no longer cuts, but life still does not come easy for her despite being loved by so many.

I’m not sure how love works into the whole mix. Does it only add to the pressure?

It does bother me when she has gone beyond broken, encouraging others to join in the quest. This is beyond me and I am lost on how to approach this. I know that when others approve it only exasperates the problems and often breeds competition. When one no longer thinks they have a problem, what is there to do? Tell me! Fucking Tell Me!

Again I do not feel sorry for the Broken Girl, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel saddened. I wish I had a magic wand. I wish I had the answer. I know you want to get better, but it must be fucking maddening to not know what that means anymore. There seems to only be one word of consistency, Perfect.

I’ve come to hate that word.

Isn’t it okay to be unperfekt?

Is it silly that I can still see the beauty in this appallingly generic life?

How was that for inspirational? Fucking bland, eh? I’m not really sure what I’ve tumbled into here,  I was thinking more than the multitude of photographs and saying. Not that they’re all not beautiful, they are.

And then there’s this Haley Williams on here pretending, or not, to be Haley Williams. Why do I always have to question such things? I’d say 98% no, but wtf, maybe, I’ll just keep watch. Not that I’d be startstruck, or any more happy [there’s a word that just isn’t coming here] that she read my words than you.

And where the hell are the rest of my html options? I cant fucking do anything but this, this and this.

I’m hungry, I’m going to eat now. I’m not particularly happy.

edited to say that the the strikeout option doesn’t even work, bite me

…making friends on here despite the fact that I will never actually get to meet them.

It bothers me that I don’t remember when this was replaced by “I sleep like shit, and I can’t wait to get a tan to hide the dark circles”

Now I just hate to go to sleep…

It took me a day to attempt to answer this. I just wanted to think it over.

I think I’m a decent person for what it’s worth. I know I’m important to those around me and thats a good thing, although I wish I was a little more important to myself. I’ve never really had to struggle and to be honest I have everything I need. Certainly everything someone would need to be happy, truly happy. I don’t think I’ll ever be truly happy, if indeed one can achieve that. I remember being at a party once, and standing to the side for a moment, just taking it all in, and then someone saying something to the effect that it didnt look like I wanted to be there. I’m afraid that’s the vibe I give off.

It’s funny. In a way I wish I was somewhat handicapped or disfigured with salad fingers which would give me something to complain about myself. What I have is lack of will power, always only doing just as much as needs to be done. Well, thats not totally true, I’ve surprised myself a few times…I wish it were more. I wonder if people can see that.

I wish I was more confident, you know, like those who just exude confidence? There’s just no way to fake that.

But I’m compassionate. It’s not unique to care more for others than yourself. I’ve already realized that my own reaching out to others has been an unconscious veil to have others reach in. But I do love reaching out. I love making others part of me, and there are people I’ve only met for a few moments that I’ll always remember. I’ve been alive long enough to know that I don’t forget people, especially from here.

But to sum things up, I view myself as someone worthy to get to know, but oddly had to make myself stand out in some way to make them feel that way. I’m not an attention hound, but like anyone else, its good to be noticed without doing anything in particular. And I’m kind of embarrassed that I feel that way.

So…thanks for asking :]

I follow random people. It’s my nature. Tell me something that makes you unique.

Please stop saying you’re sorry for anything and everything, you are not, repeat not responsible for the problems of the world…

Do you ever feel that all the choices you’ve made in your life were the ones that stared you in the face. Pick me! And you did.

It’s not that I’ve avoided controversy, but the decisions I felt were mine really weren’t. Often I’ve taken the road less traveled, but somehow always ended back on the well worn path.

I’m left wondering where I lost myself, or maybe I’m just like this by default

We stumble through life, the days, weeks, months and we attempt to make heads and tales of things. And words…how they love to trip us up. How perfect they form in our heads and in type. But when we talk…its silly how they deny us just when we need them most.

and then there are those days when they come
out of us with such fluid ease
like music

and for the fortunate one
whose destination these words, phrases, thoughts seek
they will remember
you will remember
even if tomorrow the clumsiness returns
you will be soothed by its soft imprint forever left in you

and on those odd days
you will recall
like the long lost scent of cotton candy

and you will smile