“The (500) Days of Summer attitude of “He wants you so bad” seems attractive to some women and men, especially younger ones, but I would encourage anyone who has a crush on my character to watch it again and examine how selfish he is. He develops a mildly delusional obsession over a girl onto whom he projects all these fantasies. He thinks she’ll give his life meaning because he doesn’t care about much else going on in his life. A lot of boys and girls think their lives will have meaning if they find a partner who wants nothing else in life but them. That’s not healthy. That’s falling in love with the idea of a person, not the actual person.”—Joseph Gordon-Levitt (via perfect)
when I’m happy I just want to spread it around. like talk to people, cheer them up, draw stuff, record stuff, play with fans, play piano, respond to PMs and dozens of messages, be a social networking butterfly, believe that I’m good enough to get somewhere one day, try my hardest. then when I’m…
EVERYTIME I get a shot at happiness or start feeling content at all, SOMETHING BAD HAS TO HAPPEN. This is the fucking life I have to survive, where tomorrow promises to hold new horrors that yesterday didn’t dare even have nightmares about. Joy is dead.
When I was first getting adjusted to college life(aka when you have 900 hours of free time if you don’t have a job because you’re taking easy prereq classes) I took up an interest in lucid dreaming. This was partly founded by a friend sharing their interesting dreams that they recalled, quite vividly. Naturally dream-sharing became a fun thing to do, and that sparked my interest into researching dreams and of course lucid dreaming shot out as this impossible, magnificent, fantasy power that was too good to be true. Anyway, so I began trying to remember all dreams, not just the ones worth sharing, in an effort to build up my dream recall which is supposedly essential to lucid dreaming. After all, what’s the point of having a lucid dream if you don’t even remember it?
So I did that for months, because in all honesty the ability to create and shape a dream world for me to escape to was the most alluring thing ever. (BETTER THAN PIZZA!) I tried incorporating all sorts of techniques, reality checks of different sorts, binaural beats a-plenty, all in preparation for attempts at lucid dreaming. And I really tried for it, and I really don’t put much effort into much of anything, but this was something I literally put myself into, for months. I finally attempted using the WILD technique, since the reality checks weren’t kicking in during normal dreams. And it failed. All that happened was me staying awake, perfectly still, in a pool of my own drool, for about 3 hours before I decided I didn’t care. The failure didn’t phase me much, I didn’t really think I’d succeed on my first real attempt. So I kept trying. I eventually tried the wake-back-to-bed technique as well, but everytime it was the same thing, me staying awake for obscene amounts of time with no results.
I gave up after maybe 2 weeks of trying. Stopped everything. Some time after(a few months I guess, don’t remember), I happened to achieve brief lucidity by chance while in a dream. I actually somehow remembered to do a reality check in the dream when I started questioning my consciousness, and lo and behold my hands were like putty when I tried to poke through them. However, the excitement of it all lead to me losing it all and waking up immediately. I do have very vivid memories of that experience though, short as it was.
I really want to try again, but with how stressed I get about everything I don’t think it’s worth the losing sleep… but still, escaping to a dream world in my control is just so so appealing.
Just what I wanted to do on my first day at work: overhear I didn’t have a place on the schedule and just told to work fries for 7 hours. I can’t really complain about that though, getting paid to do easy moron-level stuff when I already know how to do it. Just wish I would’ve gotten a tour of the store or something like that.
So I want to do another video journal thing, but I’m also kind of sucky at doing those, but I want to do something. And of course I’d post here so what do the 5 or so of you that follow me want to see? I could like, do a crappy yoyo-trick video or just talk about junk. Or complain about the cold. Or <insert your idea here>. Well?
I know our society is going through an egalitarian- like stage where mostly everything is supposed to be blindly respected with no merit and critical thought behind it, but when did people start becoming scared to truly speak their mind, for fear of being judged for not being openminded enough?…
I feel as if my mind is regressing. I can’t tell if it actually is. Things used to come so easily to me, amazingly fast. I could learn a new subject by simply glancing at the key concepts. I was by no means a genius, no, but I felt intelligent. The only things that gave me trouble were the implications of the subject. But I suppose that’s the true bank of knowledge, knowing how to use what you’ve learned in real life.
And now when I meditate my mind fizzles out, it refuses to focus. I can’t find motivation in anything. I feel constant urges to do new things, to fix myself, to repair my mood and my life, but I won’t let me. Adding in the factor of my apathy towards everything, my outlook on life is very bleak.
This has surpassed being a matter of life’s problems and depression. The person I am inside can no longer tolerate the person I act as on the outside. They are in constant struggle. Maybe I’ve gone insane. If you were to ask me to talk about this, the outside would laugh and shrug it off as nothing. The inside would silently comfort itself that there’s no point in explaining, that silence is for the best.
Maybe I’m just getting old. I’m 22 now, and although the past 4 years of my life are a haze in my memory, years I’m not too sure I experienced, I can’t say I feel like that’s an appropriate age for me. I’ve always felt I was older inside, in some ways, in others of course I am still very much a 12 year old boy.
The internal struggle thing is taxing me, emotionally and thus leaking into my physical body as a result. Although I often want to beg for help, I don’t. There’re a myriad of reasons for it. I don’t want help. I know people can’t help me anyway, even if they wanted to. And this is why I’ve felt I’ve lived as much as I care to have lived in this world. There’s nothing I look forward to with excitement, my dreams and goals don’t extend beyond the day’s limitations. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say anymore, and that essentially strengthens whatever it is I wanted to say.
“Look outside. You see those stars? Even in a thousand million lifetimes, we will never get close to one. Yet, even so, each and every one of them has been seen and appreciated by every person who ever lived. The air itself is filled and recycled from every living creature that ever existed. The water you drink is the life of a dinosaur who reared its young, the air you breath is from a man whose breath was taken away by the morning sun. Never forget your passions. Never forget your calling. And never, ever, ever, in a million thousand years, forget who you truly are:
You are you, and in the end, in this crazy universe of infinite chaos and suffering and love and wonder, that small and tiny insignificant moment, the love that makes mankind strange and weak, is enough to move an emotionless blue god to tears. Never forget your stories.”
I just want to stay up and read all night. But I’m tired, physically. Finished Too Far, aside from the ending having some delicious imagery, I was left really unsatisfied. It was kind of like ripping the wrapping paper off of a present in a hurry, only to find an empty box. Still, it was a great read. Started Flowers for Algernon and I basically don’t want to stop. I’m getting pretty excited, because the next book in my pile is one I’ve been putting off for quite a while, but it’s by my favorite fantasy genre author so. Yes.
Mmm, pizza with red onions, diced chives, a little spinach, and a myriad of seasonings that I’m not entirely sure what’s in, with a scatter of giardiniera. All for me. Good times are coming to my belly.
I expect for every dark thing in my life to work every second I breathe to consume me, but I expect more work out of my heart and my mind to try harder every second to over come it, to solve it, to resolve it, or fight it
I know that everything I believe will be tested, broken, or proven
This brings up a sobering fact, for the people that devote themselves to another. It’s more than just the fragility of yourself being placed into another’s hands and trust; the issue arises when you are no longer in a position to take care of yourself. When your arms are always around someone else, who is there to hold you up when your legs fail? Trust extends beyond an understanding of caring for one another, it’s a dependence, unknowingly placed upon everyone involved.
The noblest of lifeguards will drown unable to save any one ever again. And that’s a horrible incident.