| (no subject) |
[May. 13th, 2007|04:51 pm] |
I've started my book. I have quite a bit of material written down and sifted together, and all the time I'm thinking of ways to patch it together. The book I see in my head with all of it patched together is incredible; a fictional look at my life, an over-emphasized, over-analyzed portrait of my life, a complete look at my brain, who I am, and who I try to be.
Having so much free time could kill a man. |
|
|
| Confessions |
[Dec. 22nd, 2006|01:44 am] |
I don't know how jello works. I fart in insence stores just for the irony. I drink skim milk. I could live on Mountain Dew and Trix, not necessarily together. My jeans are 2 sizes too big now, and I don't care. When I press on my chest bone(whatevs) it tickles. I'm not afraid to listen to country music.
I never stop worrying. I pay more attention to others' problems than my own, and it sometimes gets me in trouble. I'm a dreamer. Thinking is my kryptonite.
So is not thinking. I'm a sore loser. I'm a worse winner. I don't tolerate blatant ignorance. I want to be a writer. My grammar blows. |
|
|
| Worst week ever. |
[Oct. 19th, 2006|01:25 pm] |
Who knew that a 2 day long school week would be the worst week of my life.
How wonderful. |
|
|
| I wish I could say what words wont amount to. |
[Sep. 30th, 2006|04:27 pm] |
I guess this is where I need to apologize. I'm not sure what for, but I'm sure it's necessary- not for now, but for sometime soon.
I feel terribly alone right now. I spend my days studying and worrying, worrying and studying, and then reflecting on things I need to do to get myself in a better frame of mind. Over the last several months I've seperated myself from many of the friends I found myself identifying with. I couldn't handle their destructive behavior, and didn't want to be subjected to it. Right now that destructive behavior doesn't sound that bad.
I'm pushing you all away right now. Not because I want to, but because I'm afraid I have no choice. I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that this is not home. That Knoxville will never be home again. That there never will be "home" again.
I don't know who to talk to, or what to talk to people about. I don't know what to say this time; it's hard to act like life is good and laugh and joke around with people, when you're sitting there empty as can be. I understand that this post makes no sense- that there are 6 stories going on at once, but I just need to sit here and type. Because at some point I'm going to understand what's going on, and I'll be able to share it with you.
I love you, but I have nothing left for you. Find a friend that can be a friend, I'm sure it'll work out better for you in the long run. |
|
|
| Push the pedal down, watch the world around fly by us. |
[Sep. 22nd, 2006|12:09 am] |
I find my freedom in the 6 inches between the gas and the floor.
I find comfort in the 5 x 5 foot cab of my truck. It's seen more memories, more tears, more smiles, and more laughs than I even care to remember. When I get behind that wheel I just drive. It's me and the road, and a general idea as to where I'm going. Sometimes, though, I get lost.
I'm sorry that I can't just say what it is I'm thinking without using a long, drawn out analogy. I've never been much good with communicating openly, but tonight I'm not sure who I'm communicating with, so perhaps my apology was warrantless.
When I get lost in my truck I put the pedal to the floor and cruise at mach speed until I see something familiar, or I turn around and go back the way I came. But at this juncture in my life, I'm afriad that going back the way I came isn't an option, so instead I've chosen to put it on over drive, and I'm afraid my engine's in need of a tune-up.
I feel like I'm lost in limbo. Can't go back, don't have the ability to move forward. Forever stuck in neutral. And as such everything that comes up puts more stress on the engine to the point that eventually the car breaks down, and waits for something to help it out. I'm still looking for the right tool, and I'm not sure I'll ever find it.
Maybe my engine needs a new mechanic. |
|
|
| And sometimes I just don't know. |
[Sep. 15th, 2006|01:39 am] |
I had the strangest feeling today. I was fresh out of Political Science, with all of these thoughts of Plato and Socratese running through my mind, and suddenly I realized that I was done, and it was time to get in my car and leave. From that point on the only thing I could think about was getting home. I threw everything together hap-hazardly and rushed to my truck, turned on my cd, and hauled ass out of town.
I was signing along with all of the songs and cruising down the road, and the next thing I know I have 35 miles to go, and the sun is starting to go down. The highway splits off between a ridge of trees, and it gets dark in my rear-view- I'm entirely enclosed by mountains. There is nothing but a line of mountains in front of me, and a massive structure of mountains behind me. And in between all of this is a ridge of trees being sprinkled with the last few rays of sunlight, tinted orange and purple and making the tree's already colorful leaves seem to glow. And the only thing I can do is smile.
15 minutes later I pull onto Watt Road, hit Kingston Pike and start singing along with Billy Joel's "The Ballad of Billy The Kid" and I was instantly reminded of how my mom and I used to sing along to the cd that the song came from nearly every night, and all I could do was smile. Infact, all I could do was laugh- laugh about how good my life has been.
Sometimes I lose sight of the things that are most important in life- like friends, and family- and forget that, in the end, it all works itself out. I need to learn to care less about who is where and doing what with whom, and care more about what I'm doing- or most of the time not doing.
So here I sit, 150 miles from my dorm room, relaxing, and reminiscing with myself about all of the good times I've had, and all of the good times that are sure to come. Perhaps it's an expensive way to realize your life is better than you'd imagined, but it's sure as hell effective. |
|
|
| I've found the secret to success |
[Sep. 12th, 2006|06:22 pm] |
It lies within covering my junk in maple syrup and calling Ala.
That little kink.
(You're welcome, Ala. I just updated my livejournal just for you. Lickylicky.)
Rofl. |
|
|
| We're just taking turns holding this world. |
[Aug. 16th, 2006|01:20 am] |
I realized tonight that I no longer feel anything. I am, in a word, numb. The events of the past month have finally pushed me to the point where I no longer care. Between taking care of my parents, watching my friends leave for school, and knowing the person I care for most is with another person and I can't do anything about, I just can't bring myself to care anymore.
I've got nothing left to offer anyone. I let the world run my life, and then ruin it. |
|
|
| It whispers to you in the silence. |
[Jun. 3rd, 2006|12:24 am] |
I'm in a strange, yet oddly comfortable place in my life right now. I've discovered that my existence isn't dependent on the friendships that I've spent the last four years cultivating and struggling to maintain, and for the first time I understand that a friendship consists of two people putting forth a concerted effort to build a relationship, and is not and should not be based on one person's ability to care, and ultimately to forgive and forget. And while it's hard to watch people push you out of their lives, a person whose friendship you once valued above all others, there's one thing I've learned over the last four years, and that's that trying to climb back into someone's life is more draining than the feeling of being pushed out in the first place.
And I'm not sure why I'm writing here tonight, as this journal has never been anything more than a platform on which I could talk to myself when I needed help, knowing that, for the most part, my posts would be treated with a passing glance, and so none of it was truly too personal to post. But tonight I don't need any help, because my mind has never been clearer, and I'm sure that this post will get less than a passing glance.
I guess I just enjoy lessons in futility. |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
inofatibigboned's journal