Friday, November 17, 2006

don't take me seriously. merely talking.

My mind is chained to an idea that I am helpless to actualize. I'm chained like a depthcharge or something, unable to rise to the surface, unable to breath. I suppose there is nothing worse than hoplesness. In some ways it drives me to be homeless, wonder the streets and sidewalks, or maybe I can have an apartment with bare walls and chain locks. I'll just stay in hollywood, have an empty refrigerator and a dirty carpet. I'll become a victim of dillusion, hopless casualty of a dream, much like everyone in hollywood. Dreams are always lovely when you are asleep, but attempting to live dreams can easily become nightmares, sacrificed to the indifferent shrug of reality. It can leave you heartless, the worst picture of existence. Waiting for eternal return, hoping for every possibility of existence to play itself out until something vaguely familiar returns. Something memorable. The loneliest places in the world are the places that have the most wondering strangers, walking and shopping. Waiting for paychecks and weekends to forget about the fact that they live a life that is nothing like the lives the imagined when they were young, lives that were still untouched by seasons and GPA's, resumes and marriage. People start drinking to fit in, they keep drinking to bear with living. Drunkeness pulls the ground out from under you. It weakens gravity. The crowded highways that lead you to work become quite distant. You can exist like the Hindenburg, afloat in glory and celebration until you burn to the ground in a manner in which leaves people talking for years. How interesting, to become a story, a warning, a life lesson on how not to live. What do they know? What does anyone know? What do police know, what do parents know, what do priests know? What do singers and pop stars know, what do presidents and authors know, what do poets know? No one knows your life, no one knows your reasons but yourself, and you can take that as advantage, a sense of pride maybe? Or you can shrink from the isolation of self motivated's all quite uncertain, living. It's 11 pm and I'm being quite dramatic, but I guess I'm merely letting my mind wonder where it wants. Resigning to my lack of knowledge and understanding is liberating, but to remain in the dark is laziness. Goodnight. Forgive my spelling.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

"Yet, O my soul supreme!
Know'st thou the joys of pensive thought?
Joys of the free and lonesome heart--the tender, gloomy heart?
Joy of the solitary walk--the spirit bowed yet proud--the suffering and the struggle?
...Joys all thine own, undying one--joys worthy thee, O Soul"


11:49 AM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

there are days that i wished no one knew a thing about me, that i could start all over. fresh. but then there are days when i wish that everyone in the world knew every last thing about me. in hopes that they would somehow understand why. but i guess there will always be that middle ground. that limbo between wanting to push everyone away and pull them so close.

this was random. I am sorry.

2:44 PM

Blogger Zach said...

never apologize for randomness, it keeps people on their toes. conversation can easily become small talk.

4:46 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

small talk gives me the chills. you know the kind. like.. when you grind your teeth together and it makes you cringe...or the whole "nails on a chalkboard" thing. yeah.

eww right?

2:23 PM

Blogger Ethan said...

Yeah, like when you're grinning to the person but inside you're tightening your stomach muscles and thinking about the mean things this person has done to another person.... You know the feeling? Like when you're looking for a way out of the conversation, but you can't because you don't want to be rude.

Most of the time, small talk is torture, unless the other person's really nice or you have something in common. The silence is the worst. ;-)

1:05 PM


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