Potency

sweet nothings permeate some immediate fancy. such cruelty found in the cycle of men. hard held inadequacies sublime in all but thought and intent, how could we do this to ourselves. yet again, unlearned in experience- this self replicating cataclysmic convention. grievous undertakings solidified in naught and disdain, frozen aptitude- the resolute never final. tendencies absolved through any means of incapacitation within moments reach- fleeting fancy brought on by languid sound. what optimism at its best can never compare.

Stumble. (a moments glance in the stream of consciousness)

why can we never be content? and if we are right now, why is it that it never last? I feel like no matter what I do, I'll never stop thinking that i can do better- that there's always something more. I look at the notes that i've written and think about the note that im about to write, and i find the disparity between moods were just too disconcerting. two profoundly different moods, caused by the same root, all within the week. This cant be good.

Classical music always keep me calm.

Antonin Dvorák
Kreisler: Russian And Slavonic Miniatures
Symphony No. 9 In E Minor ("From The New World"), B. 178 (Op. 95)
(First Published As No. 5): II. Largo
performed by: Nicolas Koeckert


I wish I could just see a situation and instantaneously learn the outcome. I'd gladly trade the "joy" surprises with the ability to know if situations will point to my favor or whether im wasting my time or not. ...hearing that just says a lot about me doesn't it?

you wouldn't know me enough to be sure.
and if you do, im thoroughly impressed. cause even i cant say.

I dont like being thrown out of balance. but thats how i feel right now.
I want to be in control of the situations that im in- thats understandable isnt it?
not in the maniacal-controlling way -of any minute and of any time, but in a- I put myself in this situation, and god damn it if i dont know what the hell im doing. -kind of control. I think this might be deeply rooted in my fear of regret. its the "theres not anything that i regret as of this moment, but i hope to god that i never do." -kind of fear. I think thats also why im super indecisive... which then leds itself to why i procrastinate. So- tell me if im wrong, but i think where im getting at here is that all the stress /personality defects come from the one and only "keep all your options open" rule. all because i refuse to have regrets... and why do i fear regret? - because its a step backwards, not forwards, because i dont like losing out on something, on lost opportunity,-- of staying where i am. because of the fear of being stuck in one place of my life. of being left behind by everybody else. of those i love.
I look at this, and i see that..maybe- my life is propelled by fear. and it makes me wonder if its the same for other people too.

Are we all driven by fear of some sort of the other?

look at it in the perspective for animals: the fear to being eaten, or of starvation= of death: leads to their survival, just as the fear of extinction of one species leads procreation. leading a life stumbling after mere existance. even that is purposeful. but somehow living just to live, just doesnt cut it.

There's a very distinct line between living and existing. and i want to be in the greener side of the fence. -what ever that means.

So human life being driven by fear. applied to society? tangent: isnt that what first created societies anyway? people were so afraid of being alone in and of the untamed facets nature that they gathered together in fear in their little tribes as a type of protection- a move towards survival. wouldnt that mean that we would have to start viewing society as a survival mechanism rather than some great evil/ purveyor of conformism?

but by rejecting society, could in turn be interpreted as relinquishing your fear that would require being a part of society in the first place. then could be looked at as a type of freedom from your primal fear and the constraints of society that would other wise suppress your true, raw, primal heacceity.

would we still have personalities if there was no society to influence the outcome?

Cotton Candy, Pops, and Caramel Popcorn

Holiday pastures and moonlit brilliance. it seems that nothing ever stays the same. we all want to think that we've made a difference in life, in the world, in people. we all want to be remembered one way or the other. people who became infamous are just runner ups, never really, officially, making it to the big leagues. known but not loved. or is it more loved by few, hated by all? Im not leaving until rain stops knocking on my windows. cant let it in. cant let it take me. there's something too personal, being in the rain. i cant stand it when it touches my face, taking liberties with its cold caress. it feels like death. stealing all my warmth one centimeter at a time. I used to love rain. i remember i would run out in my shorts and overgrown shirt just to bathe in its warm waters. but that was another life, another continent. I remember trying that here, the first time i saw rain. i froze my ass off. nothing is ever quite the same as we remember it. I never understood why rain was cold here, until i was eight years old I never even thought of another alternative anywhere else in the world other than warm, no biting wind, rain. snow was a foreign word to me. I thought of it as clouds drifting down like softly padded shooting stars. snow was for the children in Disney movies making snow angels and morbidly obese snowmen and women with snow children, sticks, buttons, scarves, hats and carrots and bits of clouds- seemed easy enough for me.

Harlequin

Draw the awe and swivel from the undertones. ardour is the device to ascertain the unreliable, dread the undeserved. come to the parallax scheme and smile at your dissidence. love that gourd, that challis, that cup. and feel the sand coming away. Does it always feel like this? true to word, dye that sheath and see whats that to come. fangs and claws we come out crying. flying lying. dying. deriving the rocks from the jewels while we confuse our mouths for our feet. we lie on our backs and watch the stream dry. living in existence- where we grab and grasp that supposed inheritance. where does it all end. in prose, where we see those pro's and con's and con's becomes what we all uphold. deduce the truth and open your mind's eye.

preach that sermon and cast out those lines
and see whats the day's catch.

Didn't you know that the world dances on harlequin floors.
Indulgent in that paradigm shift

See You At The End of The Tunnel.

Living from moment to moment

will leave you starving in between

becomming like a living husk of a thing.

I don't know how anyone can do it,

this partial existence

watching everyone else live

their mediocre lives.

While you, you live more than
any will in their entire lives.

only living in intervals.

Not knowing to envy or pity them.

them and their mediocre lives.

Never knowing neither extremes.

I think I finally know what your talking about...

And I don’t know whether I should be happy or sad that I do,

but one thing for sure, I've never lived more in my life.

Waiting.

.... Thinks that the rain does the strangest things to people.