Story – Page 2 – William Dare

It’s 1:43pm

Here I am. In the library. My heart is definitely in my chest. I can feel it surge to the top of my throat, ebbing and flowing with feelings as I search for meaning within myself.

I feel routine. I want novelty. I was laying in bed last night, eyes open and locked on the ceiling, thinking about my life. When you recognize you are in control, and you ask yourself what you want, and you don’t know, or you’re doing everything you can pretty much ask of yourself, what can you do? Where does that leave you?

I’m writing a paper on a radical environmentalist. Correction: I’m suppose to be writing a paper on a radical environmentalist. Instead, I’m typing away, trying my best to allow some thoughts to escape as a means to relieve the pressure within my head.

**********

Last night, I was in my bed, thinking many thoughts about matters of significant value in my life, yet these thoughts, that seemed so valuable, failed to lead me to any answers. No. I refuse to acknowledge my faulty perspective. The truth is, I was tired, slightly burnt from typing non-stop throughout the day, and my mind wanted rest.

Do you ever feel that you sometimes lack the working material to craft new ideas? I suppose that’s what they call inspiration. Where do we look for this inspiration? Where do we gather the material that usually seems to be right beneath our noses?

****************

Snow hills, steep and slippery. The walkways are platted in a brown slush. I skip over the puddles of mud and ice, walking with my head down. Some days I look up and smile at a passerby. I like smiling. I like smiling with my eyes. It makes them smile. People know that which is real. Today I look down at the puddles. The trees are frosted with a light snowy powder. Chimney’s breath gentle clouds of steam high into the air. The sky matches the dull look in my eye, gray and lifeless.

**********

Be the change you see in the world.

I had a good night tonight. I can barely feel my fingers as I type this out. Later than expected, I found myself wondering if I could manage the colossal mountain of work I’d been over dramatizing in my head. I found myself doing my best to catch up on sleep throughout the day. Minutes and hours here and there. Nothing too worthy to be called a recovery. Eventually I found myself eager to change what was starting to become a daily routine of ideal wishing. I sat there at dinner and talked of motivation with other desperate bodies longing for some kind of intangible compulsory that would inspire them. I felt a rush of invigoration and began talking with a tone of hope. Dreams and aspirations… the people that I live amongst. The people inhabiting the world. The vast majority. What do they think it takes to be successful? To exist in ideal circumstances? Everyone has their own conception of what that is of course, but I find it pretty sad when they attribute the magnificent powers of success to factors outside their control. How depressing. They scrounge and crawl to these dreams. What kind of dream is that? Where crawling and feeble begging and lost hope intertwine all together as a means to fulfill the desires residing in the depths of their soul? I call it soul. Its whatever you are deep inside- Who you are. What’s sad is the lack of faith. They contain the power they long to feel. It resides in them, untapped. Like a spring waiting to give life to all who put the energy to dig deep enough. So sad.
So I sat there this evening, dwelling with ever flowing surges and waves of thought. I refused to drown in my own state of helplessness. I decided to remind myself, and anyone that would listen, of our potential; using words that could penetrate their weak excuses for a state anything less than ideal. Perfect is my state. I began talking about faith. Not hope. Beyond hope. Hoping is wishing for circumstances that are beyond your our immediate control. That’s another excuse to lay back and be victimized. Everything it takes to be successful resides within you. You have what it takes. You don’t have to wish or hope any longer. No more sadness. No more waiting for better days.
I talked. They listened with eagerness. “Our chief want is someone who will inspire us to be what we know we could be.”(Emerson). Whom we always wanted to be. My desire is to provide a sliver of inspiration that induces motivation.
I talked and their eyes became fixated on words that transcended their immediate listening and penetrated their hearts; to a place where they dwelt where they were alone, where they wished someone would provide the comfort of an idea they could believe would rescue them. A breath of hope that blows gently on the embers of their desires so they could see the flames that give the light they need to travel on, far beyond the shadows of doubt.
I want to offer that as much as I want to hear it. I talked. They listened. They heard what I said. Human experience is something far more powerful than any book; than any of the scholarly text that lead us to believe this or that. Scholarly writings only exist to confirm universal human experiences. When you haven’t experienced, you cannot take the words of another without leading yourself into a realm where you have no agency of understanding. You are blind and grabbing at abstracts. The words of human experience resonate deep and wide and can be universally translated even through the gaze of the eyes. They hit you deep and you understand.
As I exchanged these words of penetration I myself began to realize what I often neglect as relevant human experience. How foolish. We know the answers yet we struggle to find the strength to believe in them, even when they lay within our reach.

I went out tonight. I found myself churning through pages and pages of essays. One by one I flipped the pages of readings, gently tapping away at my keyboard with every insight I overturned. I managed to produce a four page research paper in a matter of no more than four hours. I was pleased with my work and debated the possibilities of exploring some social activities this evening. My intentional better half longed to finish all the homework scheduled for the lengthy weekend ahead, but my wise yet understanding social half decided otherwise. I would make a phone call to casually inquire about any nightly activities ahead. I struck fortune and no longer than an hour later I found myself laughing and conversing with other jubilant comrades who were just as thrilled as I. The temperature dropped well below freezing. My estimations lead me to believe we hung out in a range far below negative fifteen degrees. Maybe single digits. It didn’t matter though. Valentine whiskey, Budweiser and Coors light beer? Any combination calls for a party. And we did.
A wonderful array of personalities collided into a beautiful hum of snickers and hugs and pictures and smiles. It was nice. Relationships blossomed and a strange comforting security swept over the usual anxiety.

I had a good time. it was cold. It was pretty much equivalent to anything you’d encounter in anything north of 50deg latitude. I felt like an Eskimo. It was good though. There were a lot of people I was glad to talk to for a change. A lot of people i hadn’t had the chance to converse in serious dialog with.

All day tomorrow is homework and study day. Accounting and English. 🙂

Divinity tonight

Life is interesting. You control the very reality you live in. If you don’t think so- that’s because you’ve led yourself to believe that. YOU need faith- faith in something above yourself- and you can do anything and be anything.

It’s amazing how so many people can relate to life’s certain hardships, whether it be mentally or emotionally or physically. I talk to people, tell them my ordeals and struggles, and it strikes a familiar chord within their soul that vibrates in unison with mine. We connect and share and explore the struggle together. It’s different, vastly different, yet so universally translatable.

I went to a concert tonight, went to a few bars, talked with a few people. It was a good time. I love lovin life. I love bein all over the place, nothing inhibiting the positive feelings of genuine love for random people. I don’t care what they look or talk like, I like them if they can smile with their mouth and their eyes.

I am totally stoked off the two weeks left of school. I’m all about studying. I feel like an awesome nerd. Study, study, study.

I’m trying to get another band to perform at the first concert this college has ever had on campus in February. We’ll see how it goes.

I studies alot today. I actually thought alot more than I studied. I’m very happy with my progress, but I wish I did alot more than I thought. I love thinking, but I like doing more. I drew up alot of goals and organized alot of thoughts and plans which is great. I can implement them tomorrow. Two papers to finish. One Exam. One Project. One thematic synopsis.

I like feeling convicted of certain things. I know that truth will shine through every time. Like gold. Truth is constant, unchanging, reliable, functional, genuine, and always there when you look for it. It’s just about knowing truth. Examining what works. If it works, no matter how crappy you implemented it, there is a hint of truth to it. Somewhere. You just need the desire to search for it, and desire to seek truth, and have faith that truth is what you’re looking for. Really believing that it is an genuine and fulfilling as you imagine it to be and it really it.

little boy.

I am a little boy. I like simple things. Why does everything have to be complex? and when it’s simple, why do I feel that I haven’t put enough thought into it and I’m missing out? Why is there a contradiction here? I want to run at life with my arms wide open and catch whatever fleeting opportunities I run into.

******

So I regressed to the depths of my thoughts- to a place where freedom seems to lead to an automatic state of existence. Why is this thought of freedom so exciting? When we are free, then what? Free to choose whatever or feel however we want. Would we be any closer to knowing what it is we want? As technology frees us from the constraints of time and effort, I feel that we are sliding ever closer to a dependency and less towards the freedom we strive for. I feel that this dependency is turning us into automatons that do not think of the implications of their actions. I feel that freedom never exists. There needs to be a dependency on something. Nothing is free to do what it will without sacrificing it’s integrity somewhere along the line, sacrificing a piece of itself. Freedom is an allusion.
A people cannot be free without sacrificing certain rights.
A person cannot do whatever it wants without being dependent upon a means.
In order to eat, I am dependent upon food sources. I am dependent upon people. Upon the land.
In order to be happy, what am I dependent on? Can I be happy for no reason? Can I be happy due to my dependence of ignorance? Or can I be happy due to the dependence of people, things, circumstances?
Are we always dependent upon certain variables around me?
Do we have the freedom to do whatever we want without consequence or implication?

Fall Children

its getting cold out. The weather is windy and brisk. The air stings when you go outside after sitting in the cozy dorms. The leaves have almost completely fallen from the trees. The wind carries them around in little tornadoes, whipping them up into the sky.

Three were small children playing in the quad today. I imagined being a kid again. How big the world seemed. How care free they all were. Screaming and chasing each other. One little boy ran completely to the other side of the quad. The bunch of kids huddled and watched as he ran off in the distance. They began screaming for him, “Come back! You’re too far away!”, and looking around for an adult to intervene. He knew what he was doing. He wanted adventure. He wanted to test the limits.
They all had miniature replicas of big-people clothing. There little sneaks. Their big fluffy winter jackets that were too big and uncomfortable to zip up hung open on their shoulders. They ran around like it was their cape.

I tried remembering when I was a child. It’s a sad feeling. It tugs at my heart. The innocence lost. How early did I lose it? When all things were never as they seemed. Everything is much more now. We complicate everything with our feelings. There is a construct of past interpretations and opinions that shield us from hurt or anything uncomfortable. Instead of screaming and running free, we live in a shell. Rarely testing the boundary’s of normality. We’re comfortable with the minimal thoughts that bump into reason and effort as our means of justified communication. So it seems anyway.

When I was young everything was an adventure. Everything was new and had to be figured out. I thought I could fly if I ran fast enough. When I grow up, I thought to myself, and my arms and my legs are a little longer, I’ll be able to run fast enough and flap hard enough to take off.

Random creative (or not so creative) wiriting about killing

I grab his face and slam it against the solid wood desk. I lean in and wisper in his ear “What the fuck are you trying to prove motherfucker?” I continue clenching his face, my fingers sinking deep into his eye sockets. He flails his arms in a desperate rant and claws at my wrist. I am unmoved and unphased. I try pulling his face off but his head and body come with, so I slammed his head on the desk once more, this time cracking his skull like an egg. He let out a half shout, half gasp, of air that seemed to last an agonizing long while. I felt warm liquid on my hands as I examined his twitches. There were pools of blood in his eye sockets. My fingers individually penetrated the depths on his skull, plunging far past his facial flesh and into warm soft tissue that spurted streams and eventual rivers of blood. His heart was still beating. He was still alive. I let go, as if to throw a useless piece of trash on the floor, and he slide softly to the floor in a marienette kind of motion. There was no one manning the strings.

I got up and walked down the hall. Ever other ceiling tile contained a flouroescent energy saver light-bulb. The hallway was hallow and it felt purely artificial. I stopped at the EXIT ONLY door at the end of the hall. I patted each of my pockets and plunged my hand down to examine their contents. ‘There ya go’ I thought. Pulling out a used tissue, crumbled and falling apart, I wiped my blood stained finger-tips, doing my best to remove the flesh wedged between my finger nails.

I opened the door and was greeted by an emergency buzzer. I continued to walk through as my eyes spasmed and squinted against the will to see. Outside was brilliant and blinding. I continued to walk. I could hear children playing not too far off. Playful laughter of hide and go seek. The pitter-patter of their little feet zooming along. My eyes adjusted. It was bright. The sky was blue. The grass was green. My shoes were black- with small spots of red. I crossed the lawn and found my car. I nearly seared my fingers off trying to open the door. Leaning to get in- my lungs filled with lava like heat, causing me to nearly lose my breath as I breathed in. I sat down, light headed and dazed. Half from the adrenaline, half from the heat. I was a little too eager to get inside the car. It was a stifling hundred degrees. I peered out the window. The streets were empty.

I looked past the streets, past the grass, past the trees and the sky and the reality around me and delved into a trance. I swam in a pool of thoughts. I was indifferent. Searching for a word to make me feel anything. I wanted some reassurance I was alive. My black slacks only futhered the baking process. I wiped my forehead as little beads of sweat began banning together to cascade down my forehead and cheek. sweat began soaking through my pants into the velvet red seats of the 87 lincoln town car. They were sun bleached yellow. I smacked the seats with my hand and a bellow of dust saturated the air, swirling and catching the suns rays shining through the window. I wiggled the key into the ignition and started the car.

I turned to Jill and focused on her for a moment, thinking of a question worth our time to take us away from our thoughts.
“Are you happy?”
She turned quickly and we locked eyes in a cold stare for a brief moment, before she let out her curvy smile- the one that makes me smile cause it’s so damn sexy.
“What makes you ask?”
“I get the impression there are a lot of people who don’t know what happiness is. I feel like they settle.”
She continued smiling as if she was tinkering around in my head, trying to figure out my direction. She seemed to be getting some pleasure from the challenge.
“I’m as happy as I decide to be. I suppose if i chose to see things differently life would be a bit different, including my happiness, now wouldn’t they? I do my best. Does that answer your question?”
I’m not the most romantic conversationalist and it often happens that we get into these dry rhetorical talks.
“Whats your best? Do you think you try your best everyday?”
She paused, looked down and lifted her eyes out of the deep thought “My best. I do my best according to what I believe I’m capable of. I just put my faith that my best will suffice for the circumstances.”

By this time we were parked in front of Publix Shopping center. It was 1:30pm. Still hot as hell.
I proceeded to pull out my .50 cal desert eagle from under my seat. She smiled. Her eyes smiled. I melted inside. I pointed the muzzle at her and winked.

The flash was searing. I blew my eardrums out. I was blinded by a mist of blood floating in the air as it began clotting in my eyes. I do remember. It took her head clear off, right out the window like a puff of smoke.

I took a drag from my cigarette. The cherry burned deep red and crackled. I held it for a moment and exhaled into the air like a dragon blowing fire. I glanced around the bar and took another sip of my bear. It was warm. Blue Ribbon Label. It tasted like stagnant water.

bed.

where is

Where is my inspiration. Where is my focus. my drive. my desire. where is the novelty in it all. Where is my reason? I want a reason.

My concentration is out of control at the moment. I feel dull and lethargic. I want to expand my mind. I’m stale and I don’t like it. I need stimulation. I need to read more. I feel that school is slowly sapping the satisfaction I got from learning. When it’s a chore there is no novelty. Its nothing new- everyday is the same.

I have this routine going on right now. Its making me nauseas. The same routine.

What is it that drives people crazy? I need to think life into myself. I need to invigorate. i need to find new. Fresh. novel. I am getting tired of solitude.

Journal Entry #1

“Feeding your own Gators”

My own gators. Feed those monsters inside me. If I don’t, they will fester and feed on me. Eating me slowly from the inside out. Who are these monsters? They are the dark matter within the depths of my mind. They are a black hole summoned by vicious thoughts and temptations that suck my being inward, suffocating my true intentions, masking my whole heart. I deny their existence. Not because they never existed, but because you are not your past, nor a collection of your ongoing thoughts. These evils that yearn to be exorcised, as the teach called it, are nothing more than indulgent desires. The formula for ridding their existence exists in denouncing their being.
Yeah- I know my vices. There are blemishes on my perfect intent. I long for perfection and fall short in comparison. I willfully refuse to surrender my integrity. It is a paradox of give and take. Perfection that never exists and the ongoing pursuit, despite my attempts to castrate myself with these tendencies they are apart of me, but I am not apart of them. My flesh and my human nature, abiding to the fundamental laws of the universe, knows no other commands. My will is steadfast, but my mind is penetrable. Lurking behind the actions that solemnly swear to my manifested thoughts are those actions, the lure of sultry eyes, that peer into the shadows looking for comfort in the shade. Light is my guiding force that illuminates my path. Yet- the same path, cannot be seen clearly when I turn to look at the darkness behind and around me. That very light that leads me, casts the very shadows that cause me to stumble. That cause my eyes to fixate on things that are unreal but so very visible.
The gators- those reptilian creatures that drag their bodies on the soiled earth. Cold blooded and anxiously waiting for the opportunity to lash their vengeance upon another victim. They brood in the depths of the soul. Denying it’s existence is denying the imagination. The soul is apart of you. That swirling mass of mixed decisions. You pluck every premeditated action from this pool of filth, looking to nab the little shard of good worth to fend off the gators. Human nature. The flesh. Our soul, being constructed by the will to routinely plunge our hand into the cesspool of right and wrong. We do not necessary have to have a conscious when we feed those dark creatures. We fan the flames but never add fuel to the fire. We escape conviction, yet acknowledge their presence. Those evil desires. They eat and claw and bellow like a smoldering dragon.
We do good just to keep ourselves from drowning. Some people rarely give it that much thought. We do good to keep ourselves from drowning. Do people give any thought to the pool, to the reptiles that we chase, and grab us, pulling us under.

my unicorn

I want new. I can’t wait to love again. I’ve tasted it. I’ll never forget the taste. I’ll never give up till I taste it again. Whatever it takes. as long as it’s with that person who is everything i could ask for and more. Someone that i wouldn’t mind taking on the worst they have to offer, just to taste the best another day. I would put up with it. Isn’t that love? even when they say no more and walk away… I won’t chase. but they’ll know exactly where they left me if they ever search to remember. Love, even if its with someone you’ve seen everyday, is something you’ll never get tired of. It makes life better. it gives it meaning. It makes it exciting and fresh. It invokes those feelings of childishness and curiosity. senseless enjoyment. wasting time… but its with them and they’re in your arms… and you wouldn’t trade that time for any amount of anything. ah. you know. dates. going anywhere with them because anywhere with them is new and always exciting. there is never a dull moment.you could figure them out forever. I just want a girl who’s never done finding herself. I dont ever want a girl who thinks she’s done growing as a person. she needs to be thinking and weighing and looking for meaning all the time. it makes it so much fun to be with someone who i am always getting to know as they continually get to know their full potential. and i cant wait to find a woman who i can encourage. and give my all to. to help her achieve her amazing potential. i would give my everything to see her achieve her desire and bask in the accomplishment. just to catch a glimpse of those smiling eyes and be in the presence of the warm glow of happiness she emanates. i would give my everything to her. to foster her. to love her. to encourage her. i would love to be crazy with her. ridiculously free and happy. id love to sit on our porch overlooking weathered ocean dunes and witness the heavenly surge of ocean waters creep towards us… as every crashing wave dissolves its form and sound into the atmosphere. to hold hands. just to touch. to feel our souls touch from across the room when i catch her eye. she’ll be my unicorn… but she’ll be mine.

i dunnooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

self-destruct

I’ve done every drug but heroin. I’ve tripped on so much fucking acid dozens of hits. Soo many shrooms; pounds homegrown and picked from pastures. I’ve done so much blow- innumerable ounces upon ounces. I’ve ate so many fuckin ecstasy- dozens upon dozens. I’ve smoked god knows how much reefer- pounds upon pounds. I’ve ate so much DXM. I’ve chomped down so many pain killers. and even more benzodiazepines like xanax klonopins and valiums. I’ve eatin so much fuckin ritalin. I’ve overdosed more times than I could ever remember. I’ve vomited enough to fill several bathtubs. im had more sex with the most beautiful girls. the most fucked up girls. I’ve been to more parties and met more people than most people do in a lifetime. I’ve done more keg stands. more beer bongs. more bongs. more fights. I’ve knocked out so many kids. I’ve been in so many brawls. I’ve got so many scars. I’ve cut myself so many times. I’ve burned myself so many times. I’ve pierced myself. I’m tatted. I’ve dyed my hair. I’ve been homeless. I’ve failed high school. I’ve had friends overdose to death; two of my closest friends hung themselves. till their eyes popped out of their head and their face went purple and blue like a infectious pimple. I’ve lost 30 pounds from not eating. I’ve gained 30 pounds from wanting to get big. I’ve crashed cars. I’ve flipped cars. I’ve had anxiety till I vomited. I struggle with it every day. I’ve had depression until I’ve overdosed into severe unconsciousness. depression where i prayed i wouldn’t wake up for years on end, where breathing became painful. I’ve seen so much fucked up shit. I’ve moved twelve times in six states and attended eleven different schools, public, private, boarding, all boys, very small, very large. I’ve been all over the fuckin country. I’ve seen the richest rich; the poorest poor. There isn’t much I haven’t seen; nothing surprises me. I’ve been fucked up for weeks. Months. Can’t see straight; can’t remember last month. Last week. Last night. Don’t remember what the fucks been going on. I’ve been to concerts, raves, clubs, bars, strip clubs, pool parties, bonfires extravaganzas, mega bashes, basement parties, mansions, yacht parties. You fuckin name it. My god. None of that has ever left me the least bit content. Nope. Not at all. When that shits over I usually felt worse. The memories are good, but I can’t live in the past and forget about the now. That shit is all stupid. It fucks you up. Kills you. It’s a hole. A bottomless pit that eats you up and you fall faster and faster and it gets harder and harder to examine what reality looks like and you crash. Hard. I’m done living like that. life will be there when you wake up. Unless you never wake up. you make it good and worthwhile.

anyway.

this is what i think

you know what. i used to have so little faith in myself. i thought i was a failure. i thought i just lacked what it took in this world to be great. i just considered myself special as an individual but i never realized how i could possible excel and contribute. the past year ive changed tremendously.

my whole metaphysical system for understanding what it means to be successful has been totally redone. it started with me failing high school. then me being a drug addict. then me losing a girl i loved with all my heart that it hurt and what hurt more was my inadequacy, because she deserved the best and i wasn’t. and i had to give her up in my mind because if i loved her i wouldn’t want to be a burden for someone that special. anyway.

i eventually sorta gave up, got kicked outta my house and was homeless for awhile. it was then, when i realized i would die or be a totally depressed unhappy bum if i didnt take responsibility for my thoughts and actions did i start exploring how to be successful. i started reading books, and the first book i picked up changed my life. “as a man thinketh” by james allen. i never even read prior to that book. i read it and it changed my view of the potential inside me that was crying out to be tapped. ever since ive continued reading books by the most successful people in the world and i never thought i could read so me or have so much ambition and positive hope for myself and my future.

failure is not an option to stop. i realized it simply became a stepping stone to success. you fail at something, you just dont do it that way again. otherwise youd be insane (doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results) instead you try try again reading and thinking about how to to it better and you will succeed. there are alot of tools and understanding ive aquired as the priciple foundations for success. anyway. anyway. i went back to highschool with a renewed spirit, got my degree, looked at colleges, read books, found landmark, readup on it, thought it sounded amazing, applied and paid for all those fees and here i am. i swear im so excited to get challenged, esp in an environment where they understand my frustrations i face with ADD and my mind. cause i don’t operate like the norm, and throughout high school and prior i thought i was just a crazy lunatic who was too scatterbrained and not focused enough to really make progress. i know now i can.

i think about that girl and it hurts so bad but i tell you whenever i feel lazy or contemplate procrastinating i think about her and how much it hurt to feel like a failure and now worthy enough for her. i expect much from myself. i want to give the world to her. and its not so much her as it is someone that i will have those feelings for again in the future. its extremely painful to let go of something you love more than anything. it motivates me to read dozens and dozens of books on dozens of subjects and get up early and go to the gym and do errands and be creative and just my the best person i can be. we all have unlimited potential its up to each of us in this lifetime to realize the potential. only then can be possibly tap into it.

i realize i am who i am and im ok with that. i will succeed and reach all of my goals so long as i have goals. goals are huge. without them we wander aimlessly in life. we need to know where to set the bar and what we’re working for and applying our efforts towards. the only thing more fulfilling than accomplishing a goal is the thought of the possibility of accomplishing it. its so invigorating. the challenge is like a reservoir of satisfaction waiting to be tapped. ah. so anyway. i want to prove to myself that i can be as successful as i think i can. it aint for the degree. it aint for the money. its about learning and adding to my knowledge and understanding. every accomplishment builds confidence towards the next even more challenging endeavor.

looking forward to catching up at school. we have the potential to do whatever our mind can come up with however amazing. “whatever the mind of a man can conceive and believe, the mind of a man can achieve.”-napoleon hill. you gotta think big and be positive and just on every opportunity to overcome a challenge or a fear. i got some good books ill introduce you to. ultimately, its what you want from this life and yourself. “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” so true. problem is we don’t ask, and we don’t seek, and we don’t pursue. anyway.

this place is awesome. its built for people like me. they have all the right teachers and resources to tap into for help and encouragement. and from here, if I utilize everything available to us, we can go on to any higher more challenging institution for learning we choose. its exciting.

i like all music. my friends got me into the hardcore scene. not a huge fan of country yet, just doesnt do it for me, and rap and r&b is aight. hiphop a little more perferable. i dont get into any music scene tho. i tend to go with what speaks to my emotions at the time. anyway.

What I Want

what i want
right now.. and i mean at this moment…i dont wanna know anyone. i wanna live in a hole and think and do what i want. and read. forever. and honestly drink coffee in a tree. or maybe on some moss surrounded by ferns. and continue reading into the day until i find myself in a flowery grassy meadow where the rivers gurgling is heard not too far off. and i can read and smoke a pipe. and drink tea. and sit under a great tree thats wide and full with life. and ill sit under it in the middle of a field. and maybe that girl will be waiting there. and we’ll sit there and read and reflect and have intelligent conversations. and not worry about time or anything like that. ill have a pocket watch(only for looks) and she’ll be wearing a white dress and ill only be wearing jeans. and ill have long blonde hair and she’ll have long flowing blonde hair. and there will be a path i follow home thats been trodden with barefeet all summer long. i want to be able to breath deep and with every last breath, savor the aroma of life all around me. the nectar and the blossuming flowers and the lush green leaves. i really want to get lost in a book. and nevermind the little bugs that fall onto the pages, but shoo them along and smile. i want to climb trees and pick apples and look at the beautifully pristine blue sky dotted with white cotton clouds and the suns soft rays. i want to look up at lively weathered trees as tall as sky scapers and run through the forest. i want to go home to a cozy cottage with all the necessities and none of the excessities;). i want to have a little wood stove and a little wood table with little wood stools and a little wood desk tucked away in the corner by the window. i want a library and a bedroom lined with decor from my adventures. there will be no wants or needs. i will provide for myself and her. and there will be no distractions. no image. no drama. no lies. no wants. no evil. nothing unecessary or distracting from living a simple and fulfilling life of happiness and the persuit of knowledge and wisdom. i want a pretty little woman with no selfish desires left because ive taken care of all her needs. because i love her. and she’ll love me.

and when i gather all the wisdom a man can carry ill go out into the world and share it with everyone. and everyone will listen because im wise and ill know how to appeal to the longings of their deepest desires.and they will know everything i say to be true because it will be the sweetest thing they’ve every heard. and ill share with them my secrets and many men will find true meaning and they will share this meaning as i have done. and slowly the world will become a better place.

until then. i need to focus on developing myself despite my circumstances so one day this might happen.

🙂