The End of the Beginning

Chaos is the color of my distorted and compulsive negative thoughts, but I never fail to fight and not let them take me over. There's simply too many ideas, concepts, symbols, motifs, philosophical findings, and realizations for me to keep up at times. Even worse - I'm the type of person who thoroughly analyzes criticism not out of low self-esteem but rather a thirst for objective knowledge. I am not a slave to solipsism.

But sometimes it can be too much. There are times in where I literally need to pull myself aside and calm down because my brain is flying through too many concepts, and too often negative judgements of myself begin to suffocate. I listen when people say something negative, because when you worship your own ego, it is necessary to remember that you are fallible and people can see a different side of you than you can, like different sides to a diamond. Confusion arises when you remember that most of the time people are not concerned about giving some sort of conflict resolution in constructive criticism, but rather they are taking advantage of the situation to attack you.

And I'm not the type of motherfucker to bow down - I bite back.

Sometimes people hold negative opinions of you because you question the way they think, or rock the boat, or question the norm. In the world of today, everyone feels entitled to titles without earning the merit it takes to receive those names. Just buy yourself a few piercings, tattoos, dance like a bamboo to techno diarrhea, and keep up with the alternative (which aren't really alternative when they are now the mainstream...) fashion styles and you'll buy yourself a first class admission to "non-conformity" or some sort of faux edgy stance on philosophy. Bullshit. Absolute crap.

Going against the grain is thoroughly testing everything and believing nothing, and when you break people's pre-established notions about the way things run, they begin to turn on you and fear you. Well, fuck them. I'm happy to accept the consequences of distorted and compulsive thoughts conjured by questioning the established order, and now I have learned how to organize that chaos and form coherent arguments and valid points.

In Churchhill's words, "You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for something, sometime in your life." Taking a stance and holding your own creates a defense against would be attackers. This year I am taking a stance on myself and destroying anything which is on my course to accomplishment of my goals.

It's July 1st - plenty of months left in the year to cause some real fucking damage.

Upward & Onward

Because other people in the world don't have the same self-awareness to the degree in which I do, I feel responsible to be the best person that I can be in all aspects of my life. The majority of the human herd go about their day blindly, subscribing to whatever their society and immediate social circles (which includes family) asks them to do, whether directly or subliminally. We, "with the eyes to see", even as children, have an extra dash of critical thinking that makes us question things that the masses are too afraid to do so.

The reason why it is so difficult for me to move on from my relationships is not so much out of traces of longing love, but regret in the context of personal development and how I could have went about things differently. A perfectionist, you could say. When I'm with somebody that I love, I'm the best lover, protector, beloved, and supporter that I can be because I chose them and want to give them the affection that they deserve. And as hard as I try, I can't seem to ignore the idiots that roam this planet that treat their significant other with the same amount of care that they would to a dumb drunk broad they met at the pub. I'm no saint, I have done many things in the past that I regret, but it is because of the fact that I contemplate on how I could have went about things differently that I am making some sort of amendment to my mistakes.

It's grotesque how most simply cry to love songs or curse their ex-lover in a phone tantrum without even attempting to see their side of mistakes, or observe the situation from an objective point of view. Pitiful.

My infuriated spite has been a great source of productive energy. It is evident right now - without the Untermenschen dancing around like jackasses, clothed in their parent's money, throwing away their financial aid by smoking pot in front of a donut shop, and crashing their (rather stated, their parent-bought) car every other week, I would have not had the fear of becoming like them, and therefore, will and motivation to accomplish my dream to move to Portland and carve life, instead of letting it carve me.

Under no circumstances am I stating to be elite other than a higher critical thinking ability, but rather that the majority of the world is filled with walking corpses, programmed by religion, government, social conditioning, capitalistic advertisements, society, and they are below, while I, and "those with the eyes to see", rise upward and onward.

Subjective Blindness

There's a pile of papers on my desk that I need to work on. Every now and then I get distraught and think that I don't have the ability to filter through them, or work through the ones that need attention. But then I remind myself that it isn't because I don't have the ability to do so, but because I simply don't have time for it. Other more important tasks take priority over them.

There is so much that I would like to accomplish, but I'm not in a position in where I can get started. I'm not in a position where I can dust off my shirt and say "alright, let's do this." The frustration won't take over me, though. Each and everyday I'm working on making time for that stack of papers on my desk, and one day they are going to be accomplished.

I'm very easily frustrated with the charlatans of the world, especially when people I love so dearly give them attention out of lust or anger against me. They fail to recognize that they are wearing make-up instead of holding any real authenticity. The pretty cute girl who is crying is always going to receive more attention that the truly hurt girl who is doing her best to smile.

The stupid fucks who think that they are in some sort of abyss most likely only have a single blank page next to their desk, and the worst part of it all, is that their family is filling out the form for them. Yet they complain about having work on their desk and scream and proclaim it to the world, shouting it at every corner that they can.

It makes me sick that there's people like that in the world, who cry wolf. The only thing that keeps me going is knowing that I will receive an endorphin rush when I complete my stack of papers, and that silly idiot in his laziness will receive no emotional accomplishment whatsoever.

Go ahead and let him cry on your shoulder, it makes me easy to filter and discriminate the stupid from the ones who force themselves to see the world objectively instead of succumbing to subjective blindness.

Eclipse & Conformity

[Written in June 2010]

I'm on my way to meet up with a friend to watch the new Twilight movie "Eclipse" and began thinking about the human herd. A majority of people are complete sheep, in ways that they don't even understand. Wearing the latest punk anti-conformity plaid shirt or thrift store jeans doesn't set you apart, and if anything else, most likely makes you a part of the trend because you are subscribing to a fashion that is acceptable. This does not only need to apply to clothes. When Twilight became famous as a movie, it was acceptable to enjoy it, a couple months later, the trend turned antagonistic and people were given a cookie for hating it.

The true individual is one who focus only on their specific and subjective tastes, without regard to what is popular at the moment. I am one of them, and before you hate me for having pride, you need to look at yourself and may realize that you're one as well. There's nothing wrong with knowing that you're superior than others, as long as you still give a basic level of respect and courtesy to everyone and keep opinions to your own lair unless others wish to hear it.

I'm going to watch Eclipse, and whether that's cool or not is irrelevant.

Parents & Independence

I hate people who wear the illusion that they are independent. Idiotic kids who turn 18 and think they are entitled to do whatever they want because they are now "adults." It infuriates me to see them talk about how big they are, when they provide no means for themselves and are still dependent on their parents for support.

I resent those given jobs by their parents. Their claims of having a "rough family life" make me want to spit in their face. Sucking Daddy's cock for a nice job, when others struggle day by day to raise themselves up without any cum slurping.

I resent those with the luxury of being able to move to another state for their simple pleasure of discovering something new. Their emotional "adventure" is seen as a hard task by them, instead of the glorious rewarding option that it is.

I hate 26 year olds who still live with their parents, and go snowboarding every other weekend. They spend their money on luxurious things and don't even go to school. At the end of things, they will probably fellate their father as well for a job, and wear the image that they found this hard job by themselves.

I hate smug whores who grab claims to independence yet they don't have a real job. They talk enormously about what important people they are, and how they don't need anybody, yet they don't have money for their own school or other necessities.

I hate the bastards who are able to collect financial aid. In California, the state stupidly assumes that you are financially supported by your parents until you are 24. I have been on my own since I was 18 and I don't qualify because I can't provide a parent's tax information. A parent? As if I had one.

When I go to war, I will take pride in the fact that although I don't receive any help or assistance, I was able to take care of myself and go forth. And if I die, equally, knowing that I was pushing myself to my own limits and entered into a compromise that would give me a better future.

So, little bitches, go ahead and continue thinking that you're what you say you are. Meanwhile real men are walking the talk.

Blind Ape

"I feel that when I'm old, I'll look at you and know: the world was grotesque."

"(1) callous unconcern for the feelings of others, (2) incapacity to maintain enduring relationships, (3) reckless disregard for the safety of others, (4) deceitfulness: repeated lying and conning others for profit, (5) incapacity to experience guilt, (6) failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors."

You're not hot shit and you never have been. What you are is a reckless individual without any concern for your own safety or that of others. In short, you're a fucking crazy bitch.

Gray Blood

As we glide through these scenes with too much detail to fully grasp, each other's lives cut the shape of our own and fashion scars that make us into new people. Paintings that were in our head made their way into real life, but like all art it isn't exactly as planned.

But here you stand, covered in blood and some cliche melodramatic song in the background. With the perfume of self-mutilation it is no wonder why you encounter the disturbed vampires that you do, and with your new lover in sight the blood suits you quite well as a fucking lubricant. Blood paintings of gray, because what runs through your veins is a cancerous carcinogen that has made it's way into my lungs.

I don't give, the fire isn't there anymore, just give me back my innocence and you'll hear from me never more. If I had the calmness I would continue that into a song, but my disgust with you shakes my hands so much it is hard to think. These days it is hard to shake off this sickness, and I'm feeling like the quicksand will consume every small glimpse of oxygen I hold.

I don't give, the fire isn't there anymore. Like I said, give me back my innocence and you'll hear from me never more.

With your stupid smile in place, you can't see the farce on your forehead, and I wish I could rip off every affection I "kiss blew" to you.

My dry breath gasps for renewal, and my nicotine-stained fingers have curled into an asphyxiated despaired fist.

Don't Get Comfortable

♫ I'm not saying this to shake you up. I'm just saying this to wake you up. It's all good when we're making love - all I ask is don't take our love for granted. My love for you is real, and baby, if you don't love me, somebody else will. So don't you ever get too comfortable. ♫