Its pretty late...

Revisiting some old friends with a new mindset put me in a mood. I learned way more than was expected in the simplest of ways, who would have ever thought you could just ask and find out the answer to all your fragmented wonderings about things that seemed just a little bit “off.” The answer in itself is a little off too, but who am I in my ~great understanding of the world~ (note: sarcasm) to question things that don’t fit into my own perfect paradigm. I feel knocked a little of kilter. Perhaps not in the best of ways, but this can be potentially used to my advantage. This out of sync Kathryn needs not return to my secluded shelter seeking self. There is no requirement either that I lay bare my soul to the rest of the world, but a little inclusion-generating emotion-sharing isn’t out of the question.

Aside- Some phrases and expressions seem a little odd to me. I was trying to figure out something that fit the end of that sentence, I had a loose feeling that the words I was looking for weren’t far. First it came to me as “out of the equation,” and then I remembered it was “out of the question.” Does that mean that this little concession I make is not something that an implicit question excludes? I am uncertain, but the meaning is thought to be understood. So I leave it as is because I am not a wizard of extraordinary undiscovered expressions of parallel meanings.

Does everyone feel alone? To what degree… To what extent do they seek unsatisfying things to temporarily alleviate a pain that they hardly recognize for the numbing actions they have force fed this aching hunger of emptiness. Do you stick to one person to make it simple for yourself and hope an unnamed they will find someone else to commune with where you feel so woefully out of sync with their self-satisfied lifestyle? I may be over exaggerating just a little bit. I still have notice truly I am not the only one that feels alone, unrecognized, unimportant and an unending list of these similar things. Just because I now recognize that, does not make me any less inadequate to fulfill this need in others.

Well now.

I can't write poetry right now. Maybe soon again...
I've been living in a state of enforced busyness. Probably to avoid having to deal with the people around me, flaring emotions I realize exist but I do not know how to respond to. I'm getting better at understanding other people, but it's not yet that satisfactory "enough" that it will -in all reality- never be. So the task at hand is to start living a different way, not by refusing to do the pointless things that I seek to fill my time, but replacing it with other things. I tried the first way, and I managed to not do for a bit, but that wasn't enough there was this resounding nothing whenever I paused for a moment. The nothing pleaded to be filled, as I had nothing for it I simply fell back into old habitual motions... SO! This time my self uprising will seek to create an alternate society of me until the entire me can do nothing but follow along or diminish into oblivion.
~k

Random phrases then some sense

Dripping with sarcasm, that’s where you will be once you come running back to me…
I am wistful…
I am the middle of a thought, the beginning long forgotten the end never to be obtained.
I am nothing, yet that is not true, only a partiality of one looming truth that takes unbearable amounts of time to ingest.

The decision has been made, who is the unmaker? Maybe I’m a lonely man… Wistful in the face of oblivion’s aftermath, peaceful between two bull horns striving to begin riving my flesh into pieces as if it were normal. Why does death grip your mind with unquenchable fear? Why do you question me in the most peculiar ways? Do you test my loyalty, test your merit esteemed in my eyes? Everything seems for naught. That I will go out today and come home tomorrow exactly the same person despite my eyes being a little wider and less beguiled by the world. Things come in clearer and clearer –though never will it be a glass pane to me- as I understand what I did not before and I continue to feed my comprehension. Despite this, from understanding I have not yet obtained ample wisdom -which is something I desire-. When it all fades away if I know not what to do with what I know, what is the purpose off knowing it at all?

Trace memories of what once was endures in fading shades of the color that portray the emotion and sensation they once bore, warped by the infallibility of my mind. I fear losing myself so I refuse to be. The paradox of being incapable of losing something you never acquire, but in refusing to gain it you lose so much more than having and losing. That is what I tell myself for I cannot fathom why my function continues to perplex me as my habits continue to dominate. Outside of distraction I feel like a shell with a looming ache deep-set in my core. So many questions refusing to be made known to the world, craving an answer that mere words could never satisfy. Do I lie or exaggerate… probably, but if it is not sharpened into anything less than that I have not yet learned to distinguish. Relinquish?

Here we go again

It’s time to start writing again. Words have lost their grip on me. A rapture that once encased my heart and detailed twinges of surfaces motions has sunk to the depth of my lost treasure box. All the desirable “pleasures” of things I partake of with delight. Not the blighted things that ruin my ease and eat at my being. Not those things that I can easily categorizes as ravenous time eaters, laying waste to my existence. -“In an effort to pass time, I lost too much” is a thought that runs rampant through my head when I take the time away from that which is molding (and laying waste to) my mind. It saddens and pains me that I spend so much of the time stuck in the same rutted routine of living, as if life hasn’t truly started yet and I’m waiting for something to come and happen to jumpstart everything. But what is it that I do in waiting (you may ask) nothing that is in the least satisfactory, in my directionless life. Something has to change or nothing will change. Being no master of fate, the only foreseeable thing to alter is I. Not such an easily obtained prerogative. I have tried so many times with a great rate of failure. It is a bitter grapefruit to my being. (I don’t like sour grapefruits, they displease me)
The main thing I attempt to go against foremost is my lifestyle: sleep habits, hygiene, time spent on mindlessness (computer, TV, other sources of mindless entertainment), being more timely (no more procrastination!), building deeper relationships, stemming off laziness

Leaving without so much as saying a word, without leaving any other means of communications, I find it to be a strange action. Then again I don’t know what to entirely expect for the differences in the ways we spent our most informative years of youth. So strikingly different are the two of us… I don’t profess to understand much of anything anymore. Anything less than the feeling of clay and it bends to my will and hands as I mold it into to shape previously foreign to it. Even that is not truly known to me, as the clay resists every action I force upon it as I attempt to find a common ground of compromise that we will end up on. It is not until I make a superior piece that I realize the flaws in its predecessor. Even then, it is only superior until the next piece. There is so much more I want to know, so much more to know, much more than I could ever know. It is the choice as to what I want to invest the rest of my life into getting to know.

“How do you feel when you can’t feel nothing?”-Crystal Castles. Sometimes I feel so detached from anything more than surface emotions. I seldom pause to question whether this is normal or because of some reluctance to attach to anything that could cause me more harm. I don’t like dwelling in this place of unknowing because it stresses and grieves my senses.



-till next time!
P.S. My goal for this is to write at least once a day, if at all possible until I go on my trip to New Zealand.