They say that they have computers today that are many times faster and more powerful than the human brain. It makes me sad to think that maybe we've lost that title to our names, the most intellectual things that ever existed. Now we are in second place. And it makes me sad to think we've been replaced by humanoid 2.0, a faster, smarter version of ourselves that we could never be. It makes me long for the superior knowledge a being like that must be privy to. And I worry that what inspires me in life is just the average daily reality for these, nothing special. And I wonder what it must be like, what grand things they must have access to with their superior minds, what things I'll never be able to know because I'm just a 1.0.
Like a crackhead, I write, I collect, I record,
I organize and reorganize all that I've stored.
I seek beauty in all spaces.
And to miss just one would mean devastation.
You can't just assume I could stop if I wanted.
It's like a disease, incurable, honest.
A kind of OCD or psychotic delusion,
that I can find beauty in all this confusion.
So I write and collect and record,
I organize and reorganize all that I've stored
in hopes that one day it will all make some sense,
that perhaps this insanity will cease to exist.
I search and I find and I don't let go,
I keep it up carefully like walking tight-rope.
I religiously sweep away all the things that don't matter
and religiously keep those treasured encounters.
I place them up on an altar, of which I have thousands
to adore and admire in each their own houses.
And eventually what stood once so perfect in placement
will be torn down and destroyed in sacrificial defacement.
I use EP to express myself in ways that I can't elsewhere. This is why I believe it is acceptable to be such a bitch on here whereas in rl I usually keep my mouth shut about most everything.
I use EP to share the things that I need to share but that I don't think other people in my life want or need to hear/know about. I use EP to vent, to share my mediocre poetry/songwriting/singing/stories, to just be random sometimes, to share secrets (of course), and sometimes just to put my ever-evolving ideas down somewhere concrete, so as to make them more real.
I use EP sometimes when I need help, when I need company, when I just need to get to a better place. I use EP when I have something I want to say, but no one to listen. I use EP as a place to write about me (primarily). Yes, very self-centered, I know, but better here than in rl. I use EP as a place for growth, a place to find myself, who I really am. I use EP as a place to get away from my rl relationships which define me in a multitude of different ways, none of which gives a complete picture of who I really am. Sometimes these inchoate representations of me become overwhelming.
Sometimes I worry that these representations of me will always be so off the mark from who I really am, so narrowly defined and limiting, so oversimplified and stereotyped, that no one will ever really understand me as a person. I suppose that is how it is for everyone to some extent, never quite 100% understood by anyone. I suppose I have to forgive people for just judging from what they can see as outsiders. And that is what I use EP for, to cope, and maybe even to hope that one day this person who exists in all these various aspects, some of which I keep private from anyone in rl, may one day be able to be set free, to someone or maybe even more than one someone who is willing to listen. Or it may never be, but what else can I do?
It's easier to navigate this world each passing day.
And I'm learning more and more with each one of my mistakes.
Every wrong directioned turn narrows down the way.
And this path that leads to darkness slowly will illuminate.
While I mosey on through madness and the steps beneath my feet
Carry me on always further 'cause behind me looks so bleak,
And each flower along the way I will surely stop to breathe,
Inhaling in the essence of the beauty in all things.
And as I look around me at times to see what all there is
I see a forest full of nameless things in a fog of cloud and mist.
And as the time drags me down this neverending narrative
I wonder where am I going and what's the point of all this?
Though on this temporary trail where I know not where I'm going
The goal is learning for the sake of loving learning, rather than for fear of never knowing.
And on this trail that grows brighter with each day of growing,
I'll carry on toward that dark dawn each one of us is loathing
With one eye on my ever-moving feet and the other one just roaming.
I ponder the grandiose things that could be while I simultaneously wonder about what I will make myself for dinner when I decide to get up and make myself something (microwavable preferably).
I think about the possibilities that lie ahead of me in life. Will those things ever really come true? Have they ever for anyone before? If I don't believe in them will I be selling myself short?
I think maybe the sausage, egg, and cheese taquitos would be nice and quick, but they need something else too.
One day things will be so much better. Life will be amazing. I will feel completely and utterly fulfilled. I know this because I'm still young, I've got so much to learn, and once I learn it, everything will just be cake.
Taco sauce for sure. What about an omelette maybe? With the taquitos or instead of them?
I won't have to deal with the problems I have now, those problems that make me feel like I'm in a living hell at times. Why is it so bad? But then, I get a taste of the good, a glimpse of beauty, something to inspire me...for a while. It just make me want more. It just eggs me on further...
Something with eggs. Yes, it's gotta have eggs whatever it is.
*sigh* I'm always sighing. I need to breathe deep sometimes and just sigh everything away. I need to just say "oh well" at all the problems sometimes...if I can. And look at all the things that make me happy...
No, I mean things like your boyfriend being really sweet, things like when you feel really smart, things like when people you know say good things about you, things like proving yourself to yourself, things like overcoming things you never thought you could...
oh, alright! and eggs...
I'm not dying. I'm not starving. I'm not even depressed. I've lost no loved ones recently.
I'm just a human being. I've got thoughts and wants and fears. I've got feelings like boredom and fatigue and irritation, feelings like jealousy and inadequacy and loneliness.
You don't have to listen. No one has to listen.
Maybe I can figure this stuff out on my own. Maybe not. Either way it's not your fault. Either way I'm just another normal person living in the same world as everyone else experiencing emotions and feelings like anyone else, and if we were to play the ranking game, I don't come close to having a "hard life" as some people do.
I don't have the right to complain. I know. It comes across as whiny and annoying, and you, just like me, are human and get annoyed at things like that. I understand completely.
We're both human. That's the problem here. We want someone to have it all figured out. We want a savior-god-hero-deity-thing to be on our side and understand our pain and our struggles. We want him/it not to judge us for being unsatisfied with all the things we have, not to compare us side by side with someone who has it worse, or with someone who is perfectly satisfied with just as much. We just want someone who will care about us and give us what we need, someone who knows what's going on around here.
The time is passing. I realize this as I look at the date. 5/11/13. How did 2007, 2008, 2009 turn into 20- fucking 13? And just think, next year it will be up to 14. It's like the carbon dioxide levels in our atmosphere, forever increasing, exponentially it seems. I was thinking about this the other day while I was commuting to school, about how we perceive time differently at different ages. When we are young, a couple years can mean half of our entire life, so it seems like quite a long time. As you get older the time machine speeds up. A year or two becomes more like an insignificant portion of a life-span. As we get closer to death, one would think that life would become even more precious, since the fact that it will be gone one day (maybe even soon) becomes more of a reality. You would think that you would treasure one more year of life more than ever, but is that really how it is? Or is one more year of life, just one more year to add to the collection of years that you've accumulated in your time here?
To a four year old, it is hard to imagine that one would willingly sacrifice 4 years of her life (and more) doing something she doesnt want to in order to receive some future benefit from doing so. To a four year old, four years is a lifetime. To an 80 year old, four years can be a period of time which you don't even remember living, and it can also be the best time of your life that you would never forget for the world. How many of those four years morph into 8 years, into 10, into 20? How many of those collected years would you want to redo? How many are the best years of your life? Or are you still waiting for those 4 years that are the best of your life? Are you sacrificing four years now for some future four years or 10 years or 20 years later? How long is too long to work towards something better in life before the work itself becomes your life?
The years will accumulate, one on top of the other. Before long you will be looking at the date at the top of the page and wondering "when the fuck did that happen?"
I'll never have it all figured out,
never be able to say without a doubt.
Always holding on, never letting go
'cause there's just so much that I don't know.
What's out there?
What's waiting for me?
I'm so scared,
'cause I don't know what it's gonna be.
Just like the time when I was five
the dark abyss screams out for light.
And there's no way,
there's no way you're gonna get me over that ledge tonight.
I'd have to be crazy, somehow out of my mind.
But I've done hard things that I couldn't believe before,
surprised myself and I can't help but want some more.
So I'll take another look into the dark.
And I'll look inside myself asking what's so hard.
Because sometimes you don't have to know what's waiting out there.
Sometimes you just have to know what lies in here <3
He's at the gym once again.
He wants to know how much I love him.
He calls me up.
He sounds so sweet,
but years ago he was a killer.
I like it real. I like it rough.
He seems the type and that's enough for me.
But how long will this love song last like this?
Cause I'm jonesing...
Cause I'm jonesing for something...
I'll admit it in the silence
in the spaces he can't see
Cause I know how it would hurt him
if I told him everything.
So I'll keep it to myself
and I'll let it out for air when I can.
But I'm still wonderin'.
And I'm holdin' onto threads
I'm tryin' to make it work
I'm keeping my mouth shut
And he doesn't miss the words that he never heard
that he never heard.
Tired of reading other people's shit that makes no sense, that makes no sense.
How is it possible that you have made it to this age and still do not know how to think?
How is it possible that you have gotten more titles to your name than I do?
No, I'm not tryin' to be rude, I'm just saying...
that I can't understand you.
I would like to see you try to do a little bit more, just a little bit.
I would like to see you use your mind more of the time, more of the time.
Could you please, just for me...just for the sake of my sanity...
Could you reconsider speaking before you even think.
Oh, this world is so backwards from what it's sposed to be...
What happened to the virtues of intelligence and originality?
I'm not tryin' to put you down...
I just need someone to make some sense around here.
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The air grows quieter with each passing moment.
The time since we were together stretches out like the ground between two lovers departing for the last time.
While I sit here alone with only the company of my own thoughts to wrap my heart in on this long, cold journey,
I wonder how things could have been if the real you had ever really seen the real me, how different things would be.
And I remember the times you or I made the other laugh or smile.
And the longing to rekindle that fire grows strong as my heart shivers from the cold that comes from being too long alone.
Well, how would you know if you never even tried?
Frankly, my feelings are hurt.
A society which views itself as better than other societies will inevitably, though perhaps unconsciously, attempt to retain such a state of being. In so doing it will do everything in its power to keep other societies in a state of degradation, thus forming a self fulfilling prophecy. By thinking one is better than others they make sure of it.
Once again let down. I question myself. I need to bring myself back up, reclaim my dignity...but how can I when we both know that I'd be at his doorstep in an instant...if he wanted.
And how can I change what I feel, what I want, what I need? Why is all of this so hard? Why is all of this so backwards? so opposite from what it should be?
If all were right in the world I would not be attracted to him. I know that no one is perfect, but THIS is the guy I am most attracted to? This doesn't make sense. It's not the way it should be. I'm supposed to be loved. I'm supposed to be appreciated. What I think, what I say, what I feel...it should all matter. And yet, there is no sign of it being so. No sign that he cares at all.
So, I can only ask myself why? Why would I like someone like that? Why would I find it acceptable? Why would I tolerate it even for a second...let alone make myself into such a fool because he has something I want, something I need, something I will do almost anything for...and I don't get it...what it is, why it is SO important, why it makes me forgive anything and everything, and why it makes me forfeit my pride - my dignity - so. Isn't there anywhere else I could find that? Somewhere less degrading? Somewhere a little bit more fulfilling?
A million thoughts racing through my mind. Can't I ever catch just one and hold it in my arms for a millisecond to admire its beauty? Why must they fly away so quickly?
I can't make sense of it all like this, when everything is interesting, and I can't be happy when it's not. Must I choose between the two?
I want lasting meaning, not fleeting inspiration.
But perhaps all these little thoughts will come together one day, accrete into something larger, something bigger, something so big even that comprehending would take a lifetime.
You can't hold it in your arms to admire; it's too big. Once you grab ahold successfully, you better hold on because wherever it's going it's taking you with it.
Maybe all this torture isn't for nothing. Maybe like anything of greatness, you must pass through the flames before you can rise out of them better than you were before...tempered.
I can tell he doesn't care.
I can see we're not even on the same page anyhow.
I can see he's in his own world
and he's not coming out.
Oh what a shame
Oh what a shame
Oh what things he could have been.
The artist in me sees the art in him,
but he can't see it himself.
I never realized just how true,
you gotta love yourself for someone to love you.
You can't give away what you never had.
He can't love me, but it's not so bad.
I can tell that he can't hear
the music playing everywhere.
I can see that my presence here
is tainted by his atmosphere.
Oh what a shame
Oh what a shame
Oh how nice this could have been.
The artist in me sees the art in him,
but he can't see it himself.
I never realized just how true,
The love you want comes from in you.
You can search the world over and over,
but if it's not in you then you'll be searching forever.
There are so many gorgeous pics online, there are things unreal, unheard of, unseen before except in fantasy realms of one's own imagining...brought to life in living colors...but they aren't real. They are plastic. They are fantasy. They are the ideal. When I see a forest of red trees in rl THEN i will be amazed. When I find the Italian streets with the sun shining on the buildings which lines the sides and the flowers in the pots in full bloom and the road made of cobblestone, then i will be amazed. But really, that street is prolly full of rich snobby people who think you taking a picture of their street is annoying. That is reality...it's harsh yes...but sometimes you can find a beauty just as amazing as anything you could ever imagine or fantasize, and those are the moments I cherish most...most of all because they simply really do exist.
but no one can help me because they don't know what my life is like. They don't know what I need. And then there is the fact that most people don't even have a realistic view of the world, so their suggestions, even if they were in the right direction, are not helpful.
The only reason I do anything I do is because I need things. People don't understand this simple concept, that people do what they need to do period.
1.0, posted June 3rd, 2013, 3 comments
Like a crackhead, I write, posted May 18th, 2013, 1 comment
Why do I use EP?, posted May 15th, 2013, 1 comment
just a lil poem about life, posted May 11th, 2013
ruminations of the day (the third installment), posted May 11th, 2013
more ruminations, posted May 11th, 2013, 2 comments
shannonymous' inner ruminations 5/11/13, posted May 11th, 2013, 2 comments
another look, posted May 4th, 2013
shhh, posted April 29th, 2013, 2 comments
sensible, posted April 28th, 2013, 2 comments
****, posted April 23rd, 2013
loner, posted March 23rd, 2013, 1 comment
You're not a mind reader you say?, posted March 3rd, 2013
value judgement, posted February 22nd, 2013, 1 comment
the quest for something, posted February 22nd, 2013, 5 comments
Phoenix, posted February 17th, 2013, 3 comments
do you see what I see?, posted February 16th, 2013, 1 comment
fantasy vs. reality, posted February 14th, 2013, 1 comment
I know it sounds cliche, posted February 4th, 2013, 2 comments
need, posted February 4th, 2013
grandpa, grandpa, grandpa, posted January 28th, 2013, 6 comments
trojan horse, posted January 25th, 2013
detour, posted January 21st, 2013
1/6/13, posted January 6th, 2013
please, tell me who i am, posted December 29th, 2012, 6 comments
This isnt about you!, posted December 28th, 2012
Relationships are like..., posted December 18th, 2012, 2 comments
not used to being free, posted December 11th, 2012, 2 comments
12/9/12, posted December 9th, 2012, 1 comment
A little bit Lolita, posted December 9th, 2012
the formation of substance, posted November 28th, 2012
fuel my fire, posted November 28th, 2012, 2 comments
trick, posted November 28th, 2012, 1 comment
You want a girl who lives to please, posted November 10th, 2012, 11 comments
conundrum of my life, posted November 8th, 2012
I can't do it all, posted November 7th, 2012
11/4/12, posted November 4th, 2012, 1 comment
illusions aren't real, but we are, posted November 4th, 2012
finding the substance out of all this mess, posted November 4th, 2012
toy, posted November 3rd, 2012
lithic, posted November 3rd, 2012
10/22/12, posted October 22nd, 2012, 4 comments
Speed, posted October 20th, 2012, 2 comments
masochists and lemonade, posted October 18th, 2012, 4 comments
letting go and melting snow, posted October 14th, 2012, 3 comments
Like a hunter on the run, posted October 14th, 2012
9/30/12, posted September 30th, 2012, 4 comments
Excerpts from: "How Abuse, Corruption and Silence at Penn State Perpetuate a Poisonous Culture", posted July 26th, 2012, 5 comments
watermelon summer, posted July 15th, 2012, 2 comments
Excerpts from: "The 'Having-It-All' Crisis Isn't About Women, It's About the 1%", posted July 9th, 2012, 4 comments
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