Random thoughts that I should have kept to myself

1. If your entire life is working up towards one really important purpose that you hold on to for years, then you will have a major anticlimax after the dust settles. I always get into stupid fights with my friends because they have it "all figured out" and I haven't even picked a college yet. Let me see if I got it right. You go to kinder-garden, then to elementary school, then to highschool, and by the time you finish highschool you have to know who you are and what you want to do, otherwise you'll be poor and have an unsatisfying life, isn't that right? And then you go to college, and straight after college you go out and join the world -you go find a job, hopefully one which would lead to a career, get married, have kids. But it's not over yet. You still have to get to that point in your career when money will come flowing and everything else will come easy, so you work and work and work and try to reach higher and higher positions, but it's never enough. Then you retire, and you try to enjoy everything more because you have the sudden revelation that life is finite and you wasted it working in some racket selling insurance, but it's harder now because you're getting older and sicker and then you're dead, and the only proof of your existence are your kids, and soon they will be dead as well. Maybe I'm too cynical, it's true, but I hate it that we think of life by analogy with an escalation with a major goal at the end, and the most important thing is to get to that end, whether it's success, money, starting a family or whatever. It makes you miss it all.

2. Destiny does not exist. Some people think it's beautiful, that we are led by a superior force which has already figured things out for us, but don't you see how limiting, delusional and stupid this is? You're basically saying that I have no control over my life and no matter what I choose to do with it it's in fact already set since before I was even born. Why would anyone lower themselves to the level of just a "project"?

3. Lately I find myself in too small a circle of friends. For whatever reason, I repeatedly agreed to go out with "acceptable" people. What is there to discuss with this kind of people? When I start (or try to) a conversation, excepting the not so rare, stupid cases when I offer "psychological counseling" and bad advices, I suddenly realize its striking nullity. It's almost delusional. And then, one of two things happens. I either indulge myself into superficial conversations, about mutual acquaintances, parents, school, you name it, or I fall into an abrupt disapproval of everything and everyone and start an almost incoherent confusing argument with my equally confused partners. I allow myself to get dragged into this delirious situations, being under the impression that I don't have anything better to do.

(tumblr) people,

what on earth are you trying to do?
There appears to be a huge amount of “concern” - praying, hoping, showing how much you "care" and talking about praying, hoping and "caring" (especially caring, everybody is ripping their souls in parts because of the horrible tragedy, oh my) all over tumblr today about Japan… but there seems to be little quantifiable action besides people drawing graphics and re-blogging news story links. I’m confused as to the aim of everyone on tumblr - do you want to raise awareness, is that it? Because this story is already covering the news, newspapers and internet. Or do you want to help the people in Japan that are facing fucking heavy property damage and possible lost loved ones? there has even been a train disappearance! a whole fucking train!
Re-blogging a link with a sad face as a tag isn’t doing anything tangible to help. Have some sense - stay aware of the situation and then either do something or be quiet. Or shall I say, shut the fuck up already. You're just sitting in your chair, comforted by the thought that you are on the other side of the planet. Don’t make this a trendy topic that shows that “i care so much".

things to cry about when I am old and lonesome

I've thought for a long time that I wanted to be 18, 20, 21 years old, and living a different life from this one. That I was tired of all the ogling, and the desperate need for attention, I was bothered how in this time of my life I can't really live, but only try and gather enough of everything so I can live later. I was tired of the way people drop in and out of my life, of how hard it is to find someone you can have a normal conversation with from time to time. It seemed possible, when I was younger, it was a refugee for all the hard times, that I will grow up and move away and find myself and all of that. Because now everything puts on so much pressure that it's suffocating, I feel like I'm between four walls, in a room that smells like a space heater pushing deep against the air inside. I've been missing out on a lot of things, for the simple fact that I take everything and twist it in my mind and make it so damn complicated. So now, I don't want big cities and falling in love in Paris anymore, I want something far more simple. No. Actually, I still want big cities and I want Paris and I want unlikely-to-happen-adventures, but I want even more. I know it's a cliche, but I'm already regretting a lot of things, and I now I will regret tons more when I'll be older, so I really prefer regretting things that I did do, taking chances, than things I didn't have the guts to try. I shouldn't be so terrified of making a bad decision, I can not avoid this.. endless "chain" of mistakes anyway.

Bad decisions make better stories, oh, that's comforting.

I'm really not sure what I believe in exactly, because I believe in too many things. For example, I guess I find a sort of divinity in stars, knowing that something is out there, and that it's constant enough, regardless of how lost or lonesome you feel. I also believe in karma, in ghosts (or wandering souls, or whatever), in luck and lucky charms, in second chances, in true love, in God. Well, actually I don't belive in God, but in A God. In something that's out there. It even confuses me. I don't know why everybody is arguing with me on this. I have nothing to offer to this people except my own fucking disorientation. Most of them think that because I can't name anything concrete that I believe in, I've been raised in a wrong way and I am spiritually deficient. And I want to say, that's just bullshit.

Misanthropy

a general dislike, distrust, disgust, contempt or hatred of the human species, human nature or society. A mistrustful scorn for humankind.
Perfect for describing me on this foggy, freezing cold, useless morning. Cynical, grumpy misanthropist. Hopefully some coffee will help me pass through it.
As I said before, my life is getting quite turbulent and chaotic lately, but gladly this one week winter break will be a glorious rest from it all. I need to strike a balance.

"...i only wanted to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. how free it is, you have no idea how free."-Sylvia Plath, "The belly jar"

I ask you not to watch the video while listening to this song, but close you eyes and let it just seep into your blood. Oh please please do.

t a m e

I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. I just don't know what I'm supposed to be. I can't find a style of my own, whatever I write, compose, create, I hate. Everything I do seems so mediocre. It's not false modesty or anything. I strongly believe I suck at this. There are so many people who inspire me, that's why I started this blog in the first place, to collect inspiring works of people I admire. It seems I just can't really put this inspiration into something productive. Whatever I try, there goes nothing. They say every artist has his pauses and his moments of stagnation. Too bad I'm not at all an artist, to use that as a plausible excuse. I need musings and muses. I need something or someone to keep me "on the edge of my seat" again.
Oh, and this blog? This blog is a lousy excuse for a..whatever it's supposed to be. Seriously, don't you think?

la douleur exquise

I'm sorry to cut in like this with another quote, it's just that other people's words simply fit in so well..They just say it better than I could. And I feel it this way, and it's real. So, when my words fail..
"Pain is strange. A cat killing a bird, a car accident, a fire…. Pain arrives, BANG, and there it is, it sits on you. It’s real. And to anybody watching, you look foolish. Like you’ve suddenly become an idiot. There’s no cure for it unless you know somebody who understands how you feel, and knows how to help."-Charles Bukowski
Mind you, I'm not trying to adopt their view of the world, although I assimilate it, it's fucking inspiration. It's a bit unoriginal, but I try to be real.
But actually the point of me writing this was to thank somebody. Let's face it, I'm brainsick, I'm often cast aside because of my self-destructive way of complicating everything..thank you for understanding, thank you for being there at all times. Too often I underestimate you, and right now, I'm so happy, there's no more room for my forsaken ghosts.

as desperation takes hold

I'm sick of being so tired, so empty, so desperate..it's actually become frustrating, I excessively insist on this and victimize myself, and it's making me sick. Why do I need to keep complaining about it? A teenager who has issues, how refreshing! I'll try to keep it down, I promise. New year's resolution: I have to get my shit together. If only it was that simple.



Do you cry out in your sleep? All my failings exposed..
Gets a taste in my mouth, as desperation takes hold.
Why is it something so good just can't function no more?
And love, love will tear us apart again..

she's lost control

"Confusion in her eyes that says it all

She's lost control

And she's clinging to the nearest passer by

She's lost control

And she gave away the secrets of her past

And said I've lost control again

And of a voice that told her when and were to act

.....
But she expressed herself in many different ways,
Until she lost control again.
And walked upon the edge of no escape,
And laughed I've lost control.
She's lost control again."


-joy division

falling feels like flying (for a little while)

Forgive me for being so redundant...
I don't remember ever being without this strange feeling of guilt, straight to the pit of my stomach, during winter. It doesn't really matter whether I'm alone or not, it's just a strange tiredness always pulling me over. I feel like I have never been well rested in my entire life. It might not be at all atypical, most people get depressed during winter, but this feeling it's so persistent..i don't know, i don't really want to know. I still need to figure things out, I still need to stop taking steps back, but I am not depressed right now at all. It's a strange déjà vu and all that, but in the end, I'm just too tired for all of this to start it all over again.

teenage wasteland

she has blue hair and still gets id-ed buying cigarettes. she's cutting to waste her smile and youth, she's taking back all that she'd proved. and she's smoking just to kill the time, but smoking kills her expensive perfume instead. the mob didn't drag her in, but she's managed to get stuck somewhere in between. 'how many times must i explain myself, you just got it the wrong way. how many times do i have to say i'm just living dissipation'

angst

trying to turn one's life around,
what the fuck has "i" become,
where am i?
clearly lost it in me sometime long ago.
still hidden in there,
before the loss and the emptiness,
the high and the low.
i have to find it and claim it back
before it rots, decays and ends in smoke.

toska

(russian) upset or pain, anguish, distress. the adjective toskliviy is translated as "dismal", "dreary".

“No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”
-V. Nabokov

loss for words

some people are just...born human, you know?
mystic referee, i promise to return once i've given up and lessons have been learned. but right now, i'm lower than deep. i'm too tired, and i'm certain that if such a thing does happen.. just stick a looking glass within the depths of my heart. there would be nothing more than desperation, spreading to every inch of my surface skin. 'did they warn you, better shape up if you want to succeed?'. i don't know how to do this, i'm just as lost as i was the first time, constantly feeling like i'm missing out on everything. i don't see myself giving up too soon, mystic referee.

first day of autumn should work as a title

The water was getting shallow and she dipped her frozen feet back in. Soon she managed to stand up, but her legs couldn't bear the pressure of her body. Now she could hardly move away from the cold but she pushed herself to the shore, crawling. There wasn't much of a temperature difference anyway.Water fell off her clothes in streams and they wrapped around her as if clinging to the last warmth they could find. She stumbled onto soil, and tripped over a rock. She almost fell over from the shock of it. It was no warmer than the water though. She waited. She didn't want to think about anything, she could barely feel anticipation growing in her chest. He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wasn't there! Was he? Surely he was coming. Yes, he had to be coming. She knew it. It was just taking him...he got stuck or something. She was torn apart. It wasn't because he wasn't coming. He was, but she was oh so tired and cold.

dead man

painting by Winston Chmielinski

Its exhausting.
To live on a fraud for too long
But if you start admitting it?
No, I mean..
what's the use
to put a band-aid on
a clean dry cut
Anyway?
just this,
what's the use if
You can die


running with scissors.

Stone cold

Yes, a sip I took made me want -want, not get- more. There was drinking, but sir, why do you fancy me as drunk? Things got just a little bit hazy. Now that's the point. I'm stone cold sober. Let me tell you something, there's nothing cheap as words. You must forget, too, what I said tonight. The mad sickness had left me now. My blood went cold. And sir, a few days will remove all that I said. And that last hour- it passed right there. Once conceived, I can't undo it. I can assure you, it will haunt me forever, with all the extraordinary details. But I'm stone cold..sober, sir. Please excuse my frequent pauses, I'm just wondering how did I enter the room in the first place. It was that horrible drink, sir. It was that horrible, horrible drink.

contemplate
the sky,
the stars from the bed
'here i am
again'
nevermore
than when you realize
that the infinite you
billions you
are broken shattered pieces
of very few

'let me buy you a drink'

another drink? i lost track already. at least he's paying for this one. i can't remember the last time i've been bought a drink. with every dress i took off, with every night i wasted, i watched my youth and beauty linger. pretty much the typical scenario. but who can complain when covered in gold and surrounded by luxury?

i swore i'll shoot his head off if i'll see him again. they will hunt me down and kill me one morning on my way to the post office, i won't even get to enjoy a bitter touch of satisfaction. it scares the living shit out of me that they will burry me alive. all i can do is hope they will shoot me in the head too, they can't miss it that way.

Prelude

it was on that one night when he saw her getting out of the bathroom, wearing only a diaphanous nightrobe. svelte and graceful. he thought that she probably forgot about the male guests, but he had always been a bit too naive. he never noticed her before, in their early childhood. they had separate governesses. he could only hear her voice wading slowly through the rooms.

next morning, they accidentaly bumped into each other. at least that's what he thought. yet right there he could only think about ripping her hat off and taking a hand full of her long blonde hair, crashing her rose, almost surreal lips into a brutal kiss. he flinged away the horrible thought.

'you've grown into a fine woman, sis'

she blushed terribly, and rushed down the stairs, because not even in their later relationship she could admit her feelings for him.