(no subject)
Have you ever thought to yourself that in any given second you would wake up and realize that you've been dreaming? Or that when you really stop to think about it, your life (although it might be kind to you) is not the life that you were made to live? Did anyone else out there miss the bus of their lives? We were going to be courageous, magnificent, brilliant... and yet we've found ourselves at this impass. To move forward one must give up all that has been gained so far. It was the same way when we entered middleschool, highschool, college: we gave up that which we had learned for something better. And yet I wonder... is it better? I have found myself acting as one would in a play, saying his lines and progressing the plot, but to what end I wonder? Is this the line that I have swathed myself to walk, or is this what I find myself to be expected of?
As a side note: no one should end their sentance in a participial phrase.
...I think
I pluck hair off my stomach, and find whiteness throughout my head. I wonder if I really did squander my youth as well as I could have. Or if I should still be a rebel with only chaos as my friend? Am I grown up, or am I playing the part? Will I leave for the madness that I have always felt as my destiny, or will fate prove me a different future? We're all just flesh. Flesh that can be cleft and hewn with only the slightest force of a blade. Flesh that can, although just so, bring one's own flesh to a euphoric epifany. But is it worth it? All the glamor, and all the lust... does it amount to so little as a blindfold to a man's desire for wanton death? To so little as a blindfold for my desire for wanton destruction? Are we all finally alone in our publicness?
Whatever. I'm going to sleep in a warm bed (that I love) and with her, the one that I love, find love between.
-JP