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| "if you regressed anymore, you would be startled by fire."
the season really does horrible things to my disposition, especially when the sun goes down. especially AS the sun goes down. there are hardly things more detrimental to my state of being than fucking beautiful sunsets and christmas fucking lights and HOLIDAY CHEER.
all sardonic comments aside, in all truth and stuff, be happy. yeah? yeah. good. | | |
| okay, alright. it's been made of stupid and irrational thought and bad decisions lately. i'm trying trying trying to fix it, even though here 'fixing' it really just means trudging through the proverbial snow and fucking biting the bullet. there's nothing to do now but wait. there's no magical cure, there is no pill to take, no tonic and no surgery. which makes it maybe the worst thing possible. the waiting game.
though i actually found out something that makes it go away for a little while. it's no cure, it's a coping method. it makes things melt away for those three minutes and for a while i'm okay, i'm graceful [maybe]. when i dance i can forget about you and your lies and then all the other things on top of that. when i blast music in my room and unthinkingly move against it, thoughts of certain days and nights and years [wait months? it can't be just weeks] don't actually come to mind. it's the lyrics and the music and how it makes me feel, how it makes my body want to move.
maybe i've said this about other things before, maybe this is what singing was like to me. but i suppose things change. for now i can't keep my arms tucked in, i can't keep from spinning, leaping, reaching. and it's not even reaching out for you. it's for that one line, it's going along with a script that i don't know.
the unfortunate part is that the song ends. the play list can't go on forever and i come crashing back down and i can't hate it enough. but someone said to me "so DO something about it."
... i guess i'll just dance, then. so fuck you. get off of my stage.
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| taken from another blog. lol
The thought that there may or may not be something more to the inner workings of my mind, as in hidden problems and bad coping strategies, makes me definitely beat against what I believed to be a sanctioned wall of the school of psychology.
Say you want to become a doctor. It's all nice and fine and you learn all the right things to say to people when they get the bad news that they're dying, that there is really no hope left for them, that all you can do is ease their passing. But what happens when you contract a disease? When you find out that you have cancer or you find out that your loved one is dying of a terminal disease?
Basically what I'm saying is that the idea of psychology thrills me and I cannot wait for the opportunities to help others, especially those that are in desperate need of guidance (and medication). There are a lot of things that I want to learn in how to talk to people, how and when I should express my self, how to deal with urgent situations. The only thing is that you learn hardly anyone is particularly "normal," which makes sense. Every one will have some kind of problem or another, mild or not.
But when it's you... that's when it's the most difficult to grasp. Hold your horses, I'm not saying that I found out they have to put me on lithium or something. It's just that, okay, yeah, maybe things happened when I was younger that could [or not] lead to a somewhat skewed world view.
Alright, let's apply what I learned, okay? And you can be the judge of if I'm exaggerating/downplaying anything in particular.
Signs of abnormality:
A threat to the safety of your self or others - well. Yes. I'm violent, but in all seriousness I don't hurt my self and I don't feel the urge to kill people and bury them in my basement.
Socially and Culturally unacceptable behavior - no. At least I'd like to think not. I mean, I'm not parading around and lynching people, nor am I walking around with weird symbols painted on my face. I'm not giving back room abortions and I'm not selling crack to stay-at-home moms.
Distress - due to my hardy nature or at least my stupidity, I don't ever find things that particularly freak me out enough to the state of it not being "bearable." This is the only one that feels iffy to me, as I can't really tell if I'm not bothered or if I just suppress things. But honestly, nothing in my life is really that not trivial. Awesome sentence.
Impairment - Besides a terrible work ethic (or just the ability to be easily distracted), none of my particular habits are things that impair my ability to live a normal life.
All in all, I do think that I am what we call "okay." No, things don't exactly go as planned, but that is the way that life goes, and it's not like I ever have a really solid plan anyway. I would like to think that after a little bit of fumbling I can take things in stride and have enough of a head on my shoulders to really seek help when "it all" becomes too much for me to handle.
And I can't help but wonder if this is what people always tell themselves, even those that really do need help.
So. The nitty gritty is that I have no idea what's going on and have little to no real life expereince to really conclude anything besides "halp?"
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| as to not forget the existence of xanga...
i would like to state in the here-and-now that life, though in a kind of lull, is not the worst it's even been. but hey, i've never actually LIVED so i'm not really sure what my current state of existence equates to. so really, i'm just back at 'i don't know' followed by 'i don't care' because it does, actually, feel quite nice.
guard is frightening. in a good way.
school starts soon.
what else? not much. well, besides wondering what 'love' means lately. but i think it's a good kind of wondering, not so much to angry interrogations.
so yes. ohohoh, if you leave a comment, try and tell me a story, too. it'll be fun to read. (:
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| I haven't written anything half way to decent since something about lesbians and that really only appealed to the lefties. Let's not go there. Since we're on the subject of homosexuality... I have nothing to say. Gods DAMN life is sucking harder than a pretty-boy in prison right now.
Remember what content was? It was when I didn't have to fucking rant on this ass rape of a website just to get things off my chest, just so I can curse in font a little bit bigger than 12 pt. Excuse me while I do so.
1) FUCK. 2) SHITTY FUCK. 3) FUCK THAT SHIT. 4) That shit was FUCKED. 5) FUCK, that was THE SHIT. 6) Fuck you, shit face.
Fugly. I feel FUGLY.
Sleep, I come to thee, and I hope you brought cocaine because I want to get OUT of this low.
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