It seems everywhere I go, elements around me remind me it's spring. The flowers are blooming, bees are buzzing around... The clock is eternally ticking, but I feel like I'm stuck in a muted box... Why doesn't the sun shine? It's stormy and raining, things feel dull and airy; almost like in slow motion, with water muffling all sound around me.
Guilt covers me, shames me. I look in the mirror these days and all i can see is how bent my nose is, an imperfection I only just noticed, but it's too far to one side. I hate my nose. So close to achieving the biggest dream I have ever had; and all I can think about is my fucking nose? When am I going to grow up?
Patterns, seem to spiral out of me when I'm feeling confused, unsure or upset. I seem to grab at the first person I can find and try to latch onto them for support... I never seem to stand up by myself and do something out of my own strength.
Glass of self loathing anyone? I think it would taste bitter, and smell like really strong industry grade cleaning chemical.
Talking... I'm just so tired of talking about the inevitable. Why contemplate what I already know is certain? I wish I had the balls to just smash this stupid box and step out into the sunshine again, maybe reestablish what I want and need in life.
Ahh... Conan... What is best in life? How could a slave know whats best in life and I not know? Why does everything I see everywhere remind me of a time that I was happier?
GAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Some insight on Rambles
All I can hear is this heavy, thick background haunting of thundering rain... Filling my soul with sweet hints of melancholy. How horribly familiar this feeling is to me of late, like tiny itchy needles jabbing into every inch of my skin, and no matter how hard I scratch, the itch never stops.
When I look out at my life, everything looks in place; it's all there, everything is normal... But there is this taste in my mouth, telling me that it's not. Something isn't right, something doesn't fit in properly... and although I have my ideas as to what that might be, the fact that I don't know for sure until I remove it, or keep it all the same is terrifying. I would say I hate my pessimism is suffocating me; but I really don't like optimists.
Positive people shit me... They come in all shapes and sizes but the majority that shit me are the happy smiles, suzy homemaker, virgin christian types who only think the world is such a magical place because their churches superglued 3D glasses to their heads and their parents make enough money to shelter them from the horrors they see everyday on T.V.
They think they know how horrible the world is without experiencing it for themselves, they think the knowledge they have from other sources on 'whats wrong with life' is enough but really it's not...
They put $10 a week into a collection plate that goes to starving and misfortunate children in Nigeria and think they're a better person for it; but the truth is, until they walk out onto the street and see the pain and gloom around them that is this city, until they actually go out there to have a decent grope at the loins of our civilisation and realise that in doing so they contracted several diseases, until they actually delve into the depressive muck in this world= optimistic people like that aren't happy and full of joy and love, they're ignorant.
It is a blissful life, not knowing the truth... Maybe that's why people like that tend to except God. When big stupid rays of divine light are constantly radiating from your perfect repented soul, it's really hard to see behind the warm glowing glare on those awesome red-green frames.
But how can anyone change anything if they don't really know what they're changing? How can any of us, when all that we know is the information decided to be given to us, and the opinions or sides given to us... Everything we hear was chosen to be heard by a particular person, for a particular reason. Everything we see is just the same. How does the everyday man really see the truth for what it is unless they look at it with their own eyes? I'm so sick of mothers watching their 60 minutes on 'How video games made my son a criminal' and all of a sudden you have a parental lock on your foxtel for anything over PG and all your gore filled, machine gun firing games have dissapeared with not a nailboard weilding super mutant to be seen... It's all driven by fear these days...
I don't really know where I'm going with this, I suppose this is all based on me taking my mind off some inevitable truth that I'm too chicken to deal with yet... I suppose that's why I'm hating on hopefulls and optimistics: I can't be an optimistic person when the only crayons I have left are grey and darker grey.
I know it's ultimately better to look at things from the happier, positive perspective; but everytime I do I get the insane feeling that I'm lying to myself...
Where is the optimistic action around the real issues we need to deal with in our society? When some irate man throws his two pitbulls over a womans fence to attack and kill her dog whilst the man throws bricks over his fence into her yard in an attempt to hit her for no reason what-so-ever... What way other than taking forceful action do we have?
Talking nicely at people, avoiding the situation, turning the other cheek... I would much rather take the following action-
*get some evidence,
*call the cops on the asshole and
*have his two dogs killed. That gets you piece of mind, and you've done justice to the world you live in. Now there is no psycho in your street attacking you and your neighbours with crazy tormented dogs. Thats not the kind of thing you would normally hear about on the news everyday... Which brings me to a conclusion.
Taking action and solving problems has nothing to do with a mindset.
The way in which you approach the problem might, but ultimately we can see in our everyday suburban lives that sometimes in order to stop the problem- you have to punch it in the face. It doesn't matter if your pessimistically punching him in the face or optimistically doing so (if thats even possible). People who get things done aren't afraid to get their hands dirty.
So I say to you Oh Goody-two-shoes church goer: On friday night instead of going to youth or sitting at home studying, walk out into northbridge; find a fight and try to optimistically talk that guy out of bottling that other guy for staring at his drunk girlfriend. Or try to optimistically help that prostitute so she can stop pawning her dead mother's jewellry and selling herself the fuel her crack addiction...
At the end of the day- putting a 'nice nanna spin' on your words won't really change much... In saying that, not alot of whiny, despressive losers don't really change much either... Rather,
The people that put their own personal views on life aside to change that world, that is the kind of people we need making the changes... Those who fight instead of flight. Those who aren't afraid to see the truth with their own eyes and make an educated decision for themselves are the people that change things...
I haven't really had the opportunity to try this new outlook on the world around me, but perhaps that thing that I have been avoiding through writing this will be somewhat easier to think through now that I can have a new perspective.
See? Things are accomplished from innocent rambles!!
Ciao.
** I would also like to take a quick moment to say that I am not anti religious, nor anti christian. Infact I believe in the christian established God. I do not however care for his fan club, and believe that although some actions we take as an influencial society is good, however our constant baggering of non believers is NOT the way to go about creating empowerment through faith. Hard core christians never really seem to have the most realistic outlook on their lives or the lives of others, and so I dissociate from them. This blog is not taking a stab at Jesus, God or the holy trinity and what that trinity stands for... Just the other people who love him.
When I look out at my life, everything looks in place; it's all there, everything is normal... But there is this taste in my mouth, telling me that it's not. Something isn't right, something doesn't fit in properly... and although I have my ideas as to what that might be, the fact that I don't know for sure until I remove it, or keep it all the same is terrifying. I would say I hate my pessimism is suffocating me; but I really don't like optimists.
Positive people shit me... They come in all shapes and sizes but the majority that shit me are the happy smiles, suzy homemaker, virgin christian types who only think the world is such a magical place because their churches superglued 3D glasses to their heads and their parents make enough money to shelter them from the horrors they see everyday on T.V.
They think they know how horrible the world is without experiencing it for themselves, they think the knowledge they have from other sources on 'whats wrong with life' is enough but really it's not...
They put $10 a week into a collection plate that goes to starving and misfortunate children in Nigeria and think they're a better person for it; but the truth is, until they walk out onto the street and see the pain and gloom around them that is this city, until they actually go out there to have a decent grope at the loins of our civilisation and realise that in doing so they contracted several diseases, until they actually delve into the depressive muck in this world= optimistic people like that aren't happy and full of joy and love, they're ignorant.
It is a blissful life, not knowing the truth... Maybe that's why people like that tend to except God. When big stupid rays of divine light are constantly radiating from your perfect repented soul, it's really hard to see behind the warm glowing glare on those awesome red-green frames.
But how can anyone change anything if they don't really know what they're changing? How can any of us, when all that we know is the information decided to be given to us, and the opinions or sides given to us... Everything we hear was chosen to be heard by a particular person, for a particular reason. Everything we see is just the same. How does the everyday man really see the truth for what it is unless they look at it with their own eyes? I'm so sick of mothers watching their 60 minutes on 'How video games made my son a criminal' and all of a sudden you have a parental lock on your foxtel for anything over PG and all your gore filled, machine gun firing games have dissapeared with not a nailboard weilding super mutant to be seen... It's all driven by fear these days...
I don't really know where I'm going with this, I suppose this is all based on me taking my mind off some inevitable truth that I'm too chicken to deal with yet... I suppose that's why I'm hating on hopefulls and optimistics: I can't be an optimistic person when the only crayons I have left are grey and darker grey.
I know it's ultimately better to look at things from the happier, positive perspective; but everytime I do I get the insane feeling that I'm lying to myself...
When someone fills your boost juice cup only 3/4 full, you think:
"That dickwad is stooging me out of $1.50 worth of my mango mantra!"
You never think "Wow, I have all that juice to drink".
You enjoy the drink and you are happy that you got it, you should be happy, you bought it. But when you pay your money for a product, you expect to get the whole product; and it's the same in life. No matter how good it tastes when you get the end product, you're secretly saying to yourself: 'It's good and I feel content but I got ripped off '
You pay the costs of living in a world surrounded by death, destruction, violence and crime; yet noone ever does anything about it. Where is the optimistic out look on that view?"I'm surviving and noone punched me in the face today, but I got ripped off when I was sold the 'white mans dream'"
Where is the optimistic action around the real issues we need to deal with in our society? When some irate man throws his two pitbulls over a womans fence to attack and kill her dog whilst the man throws bricks over his fence into her yard in an attempt to hit her for no reason what-so-ever... What way other than taking forceful action do we have?
Talking nicely at people, avoiding the situation, turning the other cheek... I would much rather take the following action-
*get some evidence,
*call the cops on the asshole and
*have his two dogs killed. That gets you piece of mind, and you've done justice to the world you live in. Now there is no psycho in your street attacking you and your neighbours with crazy tormented dogs. Thats not the kind of thing you would normally hear about on the news everyday... Which brings me to a conclusion.
Taking action and solving problems has nothing to do with a mindset.
The way in which you approach the problem might, but ultimately we can see in our everyday suburban lives that sometimes in order to stop the problem- you have to punch it in the face. It doesn't matter if your pessimistically punching him in the face or optimistically doing so (if thats even possible). People who get things done aren't afraid to get their hands dirty.
So I say to you Oh Goody-two-shoes church goer: On friday night instead of going to youth or sitting at home studying, walk out into northbridge; find a fight and try to optimistically talk that guy out of bottling that other guy for staring at his drunk girlfriend. Or try to optimistically help that prostitute so she can stop pawning her dead mother's jewellry and selling herself the fuel her crack addiction...
At the end of the day- putting a 'nice nanna spin' on your words won't really change much... In saying that, not alot of whiny, despressive losers don't really change much either... Rather,
The people that put their own personal views on life aside to change that world, that is the kind of people we need making the changes... Those who fight instead of flight. Those who aren't afraid to see the truth with their own eyes and make an educated decision for themselves are the people that change things...
I haven't really had the opportunity to try this new outlook on the world around me, but perhaps that thing that I have been avoiding through writing this will be somewhat easier to think through now that I can have a new perspective.
See? Things are accomplished from innocent rambles!!
Ciao.
** I would also like to take a quick moment to say that I am not anti religious, nor anti christian. Infact I believe in the christian established God. I do not however care for his fan club, and believe that although some actions we take as an influencial society is good, however our constant baggering of non believers is NOT the way to go about creating empowerment through faith. Hard core christians never really seem to have the most realistic outlook on their lives or the lives of others, and so I dissociate from them. This blog is not taking a stab at Jesus, God or the holy trinity and what that trinity stands for... Just the other people who love him.
Gamer dreaming
Another crazy dream...
Much of it was forgotten by the time I woke up, but it became distinctively memorable when I walked into a kitchen-esque environment, only to find myself working with my older cousin, Adam, who I've not seen for a long time. I was remeniscing with him, laughing, organising some time in the future to catch up when this fat, brown haired woman comes into the room and starts shouting at everyone; so I assumed she was the boss.
She approachs my cousin and I, and asks him to open his bag. When he does, she discovers a container of steamed vegetables; carrots, peas, corn, etc...
She asks him to explain himself, and he tells her that he was simply going to take them home but replace them the next day because of a lack of shopping supplies in the house.
She proceeded to fire him.
I do not know what my dreams mean, or why encrypted mental projections chose to manifest themselves the way they do; but at this point the dream gets interesting.
My cousin (looking rather defeated) took his things and walked out of the kitchen. I was furious. I was mainly so angry because I had finally wound up working with someone I knew I could get along with, and now she had taken that away from me, but also because it was not only my own flesh and blood, but he hadn't done anything that bad to begin with... So, for reasons unknown to me, I picked up the white and red broom, started shouting insane, insulting rambles at her; and cracked her over the back with it.
And for what seemed like a really long time, I drove my fists into her face again and again and again... I ripped out her hair, clawed at her eyes and just; beat the fuck out of this fat, ugly woman... All because she fired my cousin? As it happened, as I was shouting and beating the woman, I was crying and laughing, like a crazy person.
Then I became aware that the cops were coming, so I ran. And as I ran, I realised that what I had done to that woman would land me in prison, or a fine; but I was pretty much fucked. So I just kept running and running and running, climbing buildings, and dodging in and out of the public eye. I remember getting onto a bus, and seeing the cop car with its sirens blazing go past me, wondering if they were looking for me or not. And I just kept on getting further and further into a suburban landscape that I had no memory of, until I thought I was out of there searching zone... Then a phone call at 4am woke me up.
Vampires, Zombies, Werewolves and police chases... Why do I constantly dream about violence and danger, my subconscious thoughts always seem so fucked up and odd. I don't understand why I have to run around so much in my head- when I wake up I feel more exhausted than I did when I went to sleep!
Maybe I do game too much.
Much of it was forgotten by the time I woke up, but it became distinctively memorable when I walked into a kitchen-esque environment, only to find myself working with my older cousin, Adam, who I've not seen for a long time. I was remeniscing with him, laughing, organising some time in the future to catch up when this fat, brown haired woman comes into the room and starts shouting at everyone; so I assumed she was the boss.
She approachs my cousin and I, and asks him to open his bag. When he does, she discovers a container of steamed vegetables; carrots, peas, corn, etc...
She asks him to explain himself, and he tells her that he was simply going to take them home but replace them the next day because of a lack of shopping supplies in the house.
She proceeded to fire him.
I do not know what my dreams mean, or why encrypted mental projections chose to manifest themselves the way they do; but at this point the dream gets interesting.
My cousin (looking rather defeated) took his things and walked out of the kitchen. I was furious. I was mainly so angry because I had finally wound up working with someone I knew I could get along with, and now she had taken that away from me, but also because it was not only my own flesh and blood, but he hadn't done anything that bad to begin with... So, for reasons unknown to me, I picked up the white and red broom, started shouting insane, insulting rambles at her; and cracked her over the back with it.
And for what seemed like a really long time, I drove my fists into her face again and again and again... I ripped out her hair, clawed at her eyes and just; beat the fuck out of this fat, ugly woman... All because she fired my cousin? As it happened, as I was shouting and beating the woman, I was crying and laughing, like a crazy person.
Then I became aware that the cops were coming, so I ran. And as I ran, I realised that what I had done to that woman would land me in prison, or a fine; but I was pretty much fucked. So I just kept running and running and running, climbing buildings, and dodging in and out of the public eye. I remember getting onto a bus, and seeing the cop car with its sirens blazing go past me, wondering if they were looking for me or not. And I just kept on getting further and further into a suburban landscape that I had no memory of, until I thought I was out of there searching zone... Then a phone call at 4am woke me up.
Vampires, Zombies, Werewolves and police chases... Why do I constantly dream about violence and danger, my subconscious thoughts always seem so fucked up and odd. I don't understand why I have to run around so much in my head- when I wake up I feel more exhausted than I did when I went to sleep!
Maybe I do game too much.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
A Huge Evergrowing Pulsating Brain that rules from the center of the Ultraworld
"Oh my gosh! The music just turns me on!"
The past days have been spent sitting beside my best friend of technology, pencil or pen in hand, creating piece after piece for my port folio. Listening to much earlier, experimental sounds; from dj's and artists in 1990's era. Alot of early Underworld, The Orb, the Grid, balancing that with awesome guitar works of zeppelin, the cure, Dire Straits, Joni Mitchell... Its been truly inspiring.
Well... What can I say of the days passed?> Life dreams are just withing my grasp; it's so close to the taking.. .And for the first time in what seems my whole life- I am working hard... Like really pushing myself for what I want. It's insane, I never realised I had a sense of drive like this.
So other than being suprised at myself, I have been slowly working myself back into the everyday norm of staying at home ... Always around the house, saving, saving, saving the pittance I make for a living so I can afford to cloth myself and no overstrain the boyfriend who has more emotional crap on his back than an emotional crap beetle...
But apparently boys don't cry. [insert catchy guitar riff here and enjoy with me]
So ask yourselves.. Am I being a better person by hanging inside like a shut in who burns easily? Or should I be out there spending my freedom partying like I used too?
A.K.A Im establishing my personal independence but in the same token, I don't want this much responsibility for myself... I'm looking at a hard road ahead of me, but I'm not backing down at all on this... I don't have any other choice but to try.
Why is it that I can't simply settle for settling? I feel barred, weighed down with no way of shedding the weight. Shed the weight-- loose everything I have been working so hard for...
Failure in a frightening thought. I cannot fail or I would have sacrificed so much to have gained so little. Slap Slap! Don't let myself doubt.
So yes my friends. This is why you don't see me smoking on street corners or stomping at bar open or sitting on a brick wall with stoners, ravers, rockers and drunks... Oh and hippies anymore... Because I got myself something that's worth sacrificing every spare second of every day for. And that is an exciting thought for me.
It makes me smile to see that there are still good and true feelings out there, and that I'm capable of feeling them. I'm glad I'm not all void of hope for me and my future, like so many people these days seem to have. I am not a lost cause.
Spread peace and mean it!
The past days have been spent sitting beside my best friend of technology, pencil or pen in hand, creating piece after piece for my port folio. Listening to much earlier, experimental sounds; from dj's and artists in 1990's era. Alot of early Underworld, The Orb, the Grid, balancing that with awesome guitar works of zeppelin, the cure, Dire Straits, Joni Mitchell... Its been truly inspiring.
Well... What can I say of the days passed?> Life dreams are just withing my grasp; it's so close to the taking.. .And for the first time in what seems my whole life- I am working hard... Like really pushing myself for what I want. It's insane, I never realised I had a sense of drive like this.
So other than being suprised at myself, I have been slowly working myself back into the everyday norm of staying at home ... Always around the house, saving, saving, saving the pittance I make for a living so I can afford to cloth myself and no overstrain the boyfriend who has more emotional crap on his back than an emotional crap beetle...
But apparently boys don't cry. [insert catchy guitar riff here and enjoy with me]
So ask yourselves.. Am I being a better person by hanging inside like a shut in who burns easily? Or should I be out there spending my freedom partying like I used too?
A.K.A Im establishing my personal independence but in the same token, I don't want this much responsibility for myself... I'm looking at a hard road ahead of me, but I'm not backing down at all on this... I don't have any other choice but to try.
Why is it that I can't simply settle for settling? I feel barred, weighed down with no way of shedding the weight. Shed the weight-- loose everything I have been working so hard for...
Failure in a frightening thought. I cannot fail or I would have sacrificed so much to have gained so little. Slap Slap! Don't let myself doubt.
So yes my friends. This is why you don't see me smoking on street corners or stomping at bar open or sitting on a brick wall with stoners, ravers, rockers and drunks... Oh and hippies anymore... Because I got myself something that's worth sacrificing every spare second of every day for. And that is an exciting thought for me.
It makes me smile to see that there are still good and true feelings out there, and that I'm capable of feeling them. I'm glad I'm not all void of hope for me and my future, like so many people these days seem to have. I am not a lost cause.
Spread peace and mean it!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Crazy Dream
I fall asleep one night and find myself walking through a disconnected part of the city, with my girlfriend Imogen. We walk into a clothing store, and try on some stuff, talking away to the shop keeper... Once we have a full new outfit on, we both bolt out the door.
Sprinting down the street with the shop keeper lady after us, we hear cop sirens and turn into an alley way...
Suddenly we're cut off on both sides, and police begin to aprehend us. I start admitting that it was stupid and we were just trying to be rebels, that we understand what we have done is wrong. Imogen starts screaming at me to shut up, and that she didn't know me, that I wasn't her friend.
The police officer that is trying to handcuff me turns me around, and grabs at my ass. I spin around and start swearing at the officer, who is smiling at me. I tell him I am going to report him, that I have Imogen as my witness. He lightly smacks me across the face, telling me 'what are you going to do about it!? I'm a cop'. Imogen tells me that shit like this happens all the time, that this is what it's like when you 'live on the streets'. I look at Imogen and it's no longer her, just some ugly fat looking blonde chick that I had never met before. I immediately don't like her, noticing her mini skirt and fat wobble of stomach hanging out the front...
The police officer proposes that he'll let me go if I don't say anything about the assault. I get let go with every intention of telling higher authorities but I can't seem to remember their names. I walk through a gate, and I'm no longer in the city but I'm on my old highschool oval...
A teacher is patrolling the oval because it's lunchtime, and it's covered in students from my year. This is when I realised that I'm now naked; and only have the hand full of clothes I originally started out with in my hand. So I ask the teacher if I can stand behind him while I redress myself, he goes red in the face and starts sweating as I walk behind him. People notice me, but noone makes me feel embarrased, infact they all seem to be checking me out...
This is where my mum wakes me up...
My dreams are fucking strange, I wonder where this shit comes from...
Sprinting down the street with the shop keeper lady after us, we hear cop sirens and turn into an alley way...
Suddenly we're cut off on both sides, and police begin to aprehend us. I start admitting that it was stupid and we were just trying to be rebels, that we understand what we have done is wrong. Imogen starts screaming at me to shut up, and that she didn't know me, that I wasn't her friend.
The police officer that is trying to handcuff me turns me around, and grabs at my ass. I spin around and start swearing at the officer, who is smiling at me. I tell him I am going to report him, that I have Imogen as my witness. He lightly smacks me across the face, telling me 'what are you going to do about it!? I'm a cop'. Imogen tells me that shit like this happens all the time, that this is what it's like when you 'live on the streets'. I look at Imogen and it's no longer her, just some ugly fat looking blonde chick that I had never met before. I immediately don't like her, noticing her mini skirt and fat wobble of stomach hanging out the front...
The police officer proposes that he'll let me go if I don't say anything about the assault. I get let go with every intention of telling higher authorities but I can't seem to remember their names. I walk through a gate, and I'm no longer in the city but I'm on my old highschool oval...
A teacher is patrolling the oval because it's lunchtime, and it's covered in students from my year. This is when I realised that I'm now naked; and only have the hand full of clothes I originally started out with in my hand. So I ask the teacher if I can stand behind him while I redress myself, he goes red in the face and starts sweating as I walk behind him. People notice me, but noone makes me feel embarrased, infact they all seem to be checking me out...
This is where my mum wakes me up...
My dreams are fucking strange, I wonder where this shit comes from...
On a very merry Sunday, Angela took some acid.
At approximately 10 pm in the evening, I dropped 3 cubes for the first time in my life...
Although I had trouble getting around the overpowering grittyness and sweet of sugar, I got through them and kept them down.
Within 15 minutes my stomach had turned into glowing warmth and my body began to shake. Cigarette consumed after cigarette I became overwhelmed with dizzyness. My breathing turned shallow and I had to sit down.
My boyfriend and I (who was also on 3 cubes) sat down on the couch and turned up the T.V...
This is where things started to get strangely out of control.
We were watching some random show I had seen a few times before, called 'Bones'. It was halfway through but the gist was that someone had staged a murder in a woods and blamed it on the 'angry witch ghost' who haunted the woods... It actually turned out to be the deceased mans brother... The team of investigative scientists examined the victims bones to determine the way he died and discovered enough clues to pin point location of death and eventually who did it.
Through the incredibly corny acting and the bad plot; We soon found ourselves in hysterics.
Why was everything so funny? My breathing was shallow and I had the vertigo feeling flowing through my body when my shoulders and legs were struck with terrible cramps, though that didn't stop myself from roaring with hilarity at everything I saw... I was having an awesome time already. Then we watched a show called Las Vegas which was even more hilarious than the next...
Corny and weird looking characters filled every second of the show, and after crying off all my makeup and giving myself a stitch, I felt the sudden urge to go to the toilet, incase I threw up (not something I wanted to do infront of my boyfriend).
This is where it hit me. I sat down in the room; where I can usually gage how high I am through how the patterns and colours bounce off the walls. The toilet floor mat began to crawl along the floor, tiny yellow fuzzy caterpillars dislodged and started up the walls. I grabbed for the paper but it seemed so far away from my hands, I couldn't seem to get it. And at that moment, when I looked back up to the ceiling, I became aware of what had taken over my eyes.
Swirling liquid fractals began to dance infront of my eyes, still leaking tears from all my laughing earlier. Beauty overcame me. I was in complete surrender to the dancing rainbows that distorted my vision to the point where I could no longer see where I was... I couldn't see my hands behind the gold and silver sheets of snow flake-like borders on liquid.
Emerging from the toilet; I danced to my boyfriend, who sat on the couch glowing.
"I have never seen so much beauty!" I remember saying with a laugh. "Everything is so beautiful" he smiled at me.
We went outside, and for the first time being on acid, there was no music playing. There was only the gentle rustling of the wind through the trees; the roaring rattle of trains... It soon went from familiar sounds to alien like omnious ringing and roaring, like great eerie dinosaurs waited beyond the fences of his back yard. All the plants turned into weird structures of green goo, like radioactive plants of another place... I was being overcome with an insane sense of peace.
We went into the bedroom and laid on the bed, and my laughing continued for what seemed like many hours. We laid in the darkness, which wasn't darkness but green and purple crystal like etherial cities that hovered above my face like a summoning necropolis...
Thousands of thoughts, epiphonies flooded my mind, witty sentences, ideas, threads of words that made no sense but perfect sense.
I was realising and forgetting at the same time, all secrets of the world, of the gods... I forgot how to speak English. Wanted to document my profound sense of divinity, I started scrawling half sentences onto paper, only to forget what I was writing half way through...
I remember saying 'I feel like Buddha!!' and something about an intergalactic, cybornetic matrix whale...
I was overwhelmed with all the joy I had ever felt in my life, and the intense colour sheet over my eyes began to dissipate, so did my uncontrollable laughter. There was no tension, there was no paranoia...
I now understand why people take LSD for god like encounters with themselves and the people around them. I now understand why people take such large amounts of acid; but I still don't think it should be okay to abuse the drug. I came to the conclusion that taking a heavy dose a few times a year compared to taking a little every couple of weeks is a much better option... That and only having like 2 cigarettes the whole evening made smoking cones the next day alot easier on my lungs... It was the first time in a long time that I didn't smoke pot during the peek of my trip either, and the feeling was very cleansing to my body.
The next day I tried to reread the things I wrote down, not much of it made any sense and my handwriting was incredibly difficult to read due to the urgency of loosing my thoughts.
Life is glorious, and for the first time in a long time, my acid was clean and strong and pure... I can't wait to save up for another experience like that. It drew me closer and made me feel more connected with the love of my life; and past tensions melted away into sweet euphoric pleasure...
The greatest part of all is it was just me and him, and the comfortableness I felt during that was such a blissful feeling indeed.
Having so much fun.
Although I had trouble getting around the overpowering grittyness and sweet of sugar, I got through them and kept them down.
Within 15 minutes my stomach had turned into glowing warmth and my body began to shake. Cigarette consumed after cigarette I became overwhelmed with dizzyness. My breathing turned shallow and I had to sit down.
My boyfriend and I (who was also on 3 cubes) sat down on the couch and turned up the T.V...
This is where things started to get strangely out of control.
We were watching some random show I had seen a few times before, called 'Bones'. It was halfway through but the gist was that someone had staged a murder in a woods and blamed it on the 'angry witch ghost' who haunted the woods... It actually turned out to be the deceased mans brother... The team of investigative scientists examined the victims bones to determine the way he died and discovered enough clues to pin point location of death and eventually who did it.
Through the incredibly corny acting and the bad plot; We soon found ourselves in hysterics.
Why was everything so funny? My breathing was shallow and I had the vertigo feeling flowing through my body when my shoulders and legs were struck with terrible cramps, though that didn't stop myself from roaring with hilarity at everything I saw... I was having an awesome time already. Then we watched a show called Las Vegas which was even more hilarious than the next...
Corny and weird looking characters filled every second of the show, and after crying off all my makeup and giving myself a stitch, I felt the sudden urge to go to the toilet, incase I threw up (not something I wanted to do infront of my boyfriend).
This is where it hit me. I sat down in the room; where I can usually gage how high I am through how the patterns and colours bounce off the walls. The toilet floor mat began to crawl along the floor, tiny yellow fuzzy caterpillars dislodged and started up the walls. I grabbed for the paper but it seemed so far away from my hands, I couldn't seem to get it. And at that moment, when I looked back up to the ceiling, I became aware of what had taken over my eyes.
Swirling liquid fractals began to dance infront of my eyes, still leaking tears from all my laughing earlier. Beauty overcame me. I was in complete surrender to the dancing rainbows that distorted my vision to the point where I could no longer see where I was... I couldn't see my hands behind the gold and silver sheets of snow flake-like borders on liquid.
Emerging from the toilet; I danced to my boyfriend, who sat on the couch glowing.
"I have never seen so much beauty!" I remember saying with a laugh. "Everything is so beautiful" he smiled at me.
We went outside, and for the first time being on acid, there was no music playing. There was only the gentle rustling of the wind through the trees; the roaring rattle of trains... It soon went from familiar sounds to alien like omnious ringing and roaring, like great eerie dinosaurs waited beyond the fences of his back yard. All the plants turned into weird structures of green goo, like radioactive plants of another place... I was being overcome with an insane sense of peace.
We went into the bedroom and laid on the bed, and my laughing continued for what seemed like many hours. We laid in the darkness, which wasn't darkness but green and purple crystal like etherial cities that hovered above my face like a summoning necropolis...
Thousands of thoughts, epiphonies flooded my mind, witty sentences, ideas, threads of words that made no sense but perfect sense.
I was realising and forgetting at the same time, all secrets of the world, of the gods... I forgot how to speak English. Wanted to document my profound sense of divinity, I started scrawling half sentences onto paper, only to forget what I was writing half way through...
I remember saying 'I feel like Buddha!!' and something about an intergalactic, cybornetic matrix whale...
I was overwhelmed with all the joy I had ever felt in my life, and the intense colour sheet over my eyes began to dissipate, so did my uncontrollable laughter. There was no tension, there was no paranoia...
I now understand why people take LSD for god like encounters with themselves and the people around them. I now understand why people take such large amounts of acid; but I still don't think it should be okay to abuse the drug. I came to the conclusion that taking a heavy dose a few times a year compared to taking a little every couple of weeks is a much better option... That and only having like 2 cigarettes the whole evening made smoking cones the next day alot easier on my lungs... It was the first time in a long time that I didn't smoke pot during the peek of my trip either, and the feeling was very cleansing to my body.
The next day I tried to reread the things I wrote down, not much of it made any sense and my handwriting was incredibly difficult to read due to the urgency of loosing my thoughts.
Life is glorious, and for the first time in a long time, my acid was clean and strong and pure... I can't wait to save up for another experience like that. It drew me closer and made me feel more connected with the love of my life; and past tensions melted away into sweet euphoric pleasure...
The greatest part of all is it was just me and him, and the comfortableness I felt during that was such a blissful feeling indeed.
Having so much fun.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Oh, giggamegaterrabitter world- consume my emotional fiction
I've got these plans that are going to make me survive, but lately I can't even find my important side; just excuses and lies. Am I really as strange and off centre as everyone claims me to be?
I have been finding such odd contradictions with things of late, like my life is one big show- everyone looking in and shifting the truth, like puzzle pieces all trying to fit together, even when they don't. Is that fair? That my life is being chopped and changed by these strange clowns, each and everyone of them in their fat suits, their fake smiles... their ugly hair... Why should it be me that entertains their thoughts?
It seems as if my life is being not only the vessel in which people entertain their ideas, but almost as if my whole life for those moments is altered because of these thoughts, that my reality and how I thus percieve my reality is being altered by those thoughts, therefore-- if the people generating the thoughts are complete fuck wits- then I am a slave to my fuck witted reality and those that create it?
How will I ever know freedom?
This is either making sense, or it is not... If it is not then you will proceed to believe that I am crazy, or maybe slightly disturbed... Thus perhaps you will disregard all that you read here. I say no. I am not crazy. In fact, I challenge you to apply this mental ramble to your own life; to find the idiots that control your thoughts... Even I will admit that line sounds crazy.
However, in all seriousness (and it must be in all seriousness because I am running low on time) lets entertain the notion that there are people in your life that can read you like a book. That can play you; pull your strings and make you dance around the promenade for all their dim witted friends to point and laugh... How many have felt the sting of unrequited love and affection? For that one person you would do anything for? How many people allow their emotional attachment get in the way of the royal and painful truth? Do things they know in their heart is wrong for a person that ultimately does not care?
Have you not ever found yourself so consumed by a person, your whole world utterly immerged into there's- only to a few months, years later look back on that time and think 'What did I see in them?'. Once you don't value them anymore, you deject their ideals and beliefs that you so once cherished...
Like a great veil pulled over your eyes- where you stumble across your past memories and see a graveyard of lost potential and time, rather than happy memories and 'good old us'...
The people that we surround ourselves with ultimately effect who and how we will become that which is to be becometh of ourselves... I know this, yet I can never truly see who is who until it's too late- until the damage is done and I'm more lost and confused than I was when I sought refuge in their warm, glowing empty scrotum sack of a life... Is my issue trust? Is it ignorance?
Am I trusting the wrong people? Am I letting my pathetic attachment for the human race blind me to these truths? What am I trying to prove by all this thought? What am I trying to say by posting this on the internet?
Too much thought is placed in everything... Yes, it is thought, our conscience, psyche that divides us and the rest of the 'lower' carbon life forms... But how much do people over think these days?
I'm probably over thinking right now...
Or am I reaching out of the box and messing with how perfectly still everything seems right now just to see what will happen?
I think that (in all brutal honesty) that deep underneath this trained, polite, sweet young girl who enjoys things like getting stoned and eating cookies with milk= I am an anarchist.
I feel like I'm waking up out of a coma. That the past year I have been living the life that everyone else told me to live. Try this, take this, dance to this, appreciate this... Maybe the promise of real friends was enticing enough to drag me in... But not anymore.
I don't know what I want anymore. Maybe I'm simply confusing myself for the heck of it... Everything is too perfect now, I can't handle being happy in my life so I have to mess it up by being uncertain about what I want for my future. The end of the year is coming and decisions have to be made... I don't want to be a Naturopath... I want to be a tattoo artist. But no, it's not the safe option, I wasn't good enough to be a tattoo artist, that's what I kept telling myself.
But I am good enough! And I don't think settling for my second dream, the dream that I gave myself so that down the line I could say to the world 'Fuck you, I did it on my own anyway!' is kinda big considering if I make a mistake it will cost me $45'000 dollars...
I'm sick of 'people-pleasing' my way through life. I'm sick of smoking, I'm sick of the acid, the pills, the parties where I stop half way through and have the dawning of a life time 'What the fuck am I doing here?'
Well? What the fuck AM I doing here? What do I see myself doing in the next 20 years? I thought by the time I was 28 I wanted to be married or at least in a stable relationship, hopefully with a house of my own, slowly on the way to children with a degree under my belt and my own business set up and going quite nicely.
HOW BORING. HOW SAFE AND STUPID AND BOOOOOOORRRRRIIIIINNNNNGGGGGG.
I dont want that!
I want to be half way around the world, staying at some little beach resort, with palm trees and coconuts freshly falling to the ground. Where the only music that's made is the music played by the instruments we have with us and the only food we can get is that which we cook ourselves. I want to have a house with no walls, a bong made of bamboo and fire dances on full moons. I want to have a box of paints and pencils and special things that I take with me everywhere, and I take photos of all the new and exciting places I go. I want to speak fluent japanese and live about half hours drive from Harajuku, in some small town with no internet access... Or some pokey little apartment in a sea of apartments just like that, with the smell of smoke and ramen in the air, with a bedroom full of stupid japo-asian crap... I want my phone to have one of those dangly bell thingies, those things that every asian girl seems to have on anything and everything they can attach one too... Where I spend my days either working in a tatoo studio show casing my artistic talents or working at home from a laptop- slowly but surely writing the autobiography of my life, documenting my encounters with REAL people, not just people who believe they're outrospective because they do acid every weekend or sit around in a house pilling to the sound of oblivion.
I want to live a LIFE... One that I ACTUALLY want rather than one that is just as pleasing but much easier to obtain.
I'm sick of the people in my life that mean something to me now holding me in a dream world that will have me stay within that world because of my fears that they may not exist in the one that I create for myself. And in all this winding, long winded way of saying 'I'm afraid to follow my dreams because it may force me to abandon the ones that I love, that I'm afraid to abandon this lifestyle that I'm beginning to resent with every ounce of my being because I'm afraid that I'll loose the ones that I love' = I have also thus come to that realisation myself.
Perhaps this is the way in which I cut free from those strings, perhaps this is the catalyst piece of the puzzle that makes all those other stupid pieces make sense. I just wish that the things of my future didn't seem so far away and that the things of my past didn't still hold so much emotional control over me. I wish I didn't still see his face in everything and pretend not too.
I wish I didn't lie to myself, that my present was just a little bit EXCITING for once so that I might be able to forget about what everything ISNT right now...
I wish I wasn't so god damn crazy... I wish none of this made any sense to you, if you even exist... Why do I believe that anyone will ever find this? Read this? Understand this to a degree to which it changes their lives forever? I wish it meant something... As much as it means to me...
But it won't. And no body will read it. And even on this vast, interconnected, ever important giggamegaterrabitter world that zooms back and forth every second of every day for the rest of my life until something better or bigger or more important comes along that will wipe out this old and futile model-- I am just misunderstood, and pathetically silent and small in the grand scheme of things.
That THIS my non existent friend is what I have now invented as silent SHOUTING... It doesn't matter how hard I cry- everything in my miserable, pent up and inexpressive life will ultimately remain the same... No one hears it. No one takes it in. No one learns a thing and my dawning of a lifetime is wasted away to the emotional ramblings of a teenage idiot.
I have been finding such odd contradictions with things of late, like my life is one big show- everyone looking in and shifting the truth, like puzzle pieces all trying to fit together, even when they don't. Is that fair? That my life is being chopped and changed by these strange clowns, each and everyone of them in their fat suits, their fake smiles... their ugly hair... Why should it be me that entertains their thoughts?
It seems as if my life is being not only the vessel in which people entertain their ideas, but almost as if my whole life for those moments is altered because of these thoughts, that my reality and how I thus percieve my reality is being altered by those thoughts, therefore-- if the people generating the thoughts are complete fuck wits- then I am a slave to my fuck witted reality and those that create it?
How will I ever know freedom?
This is either making sense, or it is not... If it is not then you will proceed to believe that I am crazy, or maybe slightly disturbed... Thus perhaps you will disregard all that you read here. I say no. I am not crazy. In fact, I challenge you to apply this mental ramble to your own life; to find the idiots that control your thoughts... Even I will admit that line sounds crazy.
However, in all seriousness (and it must be in all seriousness because I am running low on time) lets entertain the notion that there are people in your life that can read you like a book. That can play you; pull your strings and make you dance around the promenade for all their dim witted friends to point and laugh... How many have felt the sting of unrequited love and affection? For that one person you would do anything for? How many people allow their emotional attachment get in the way of the royal and painful truth? Do things they know in their heart is wrong for a person that ultimately does not care?
Have you not ever found yourself so consumed by a person, your whole world utterly immerged into there's- only to a few months, years later look back on that time and think 'What did I see in them?'. Once you don't value them anymore, you deject their ideals and beliefs that you so once cherished...
Like a great veil pulled over your eyes- where you stumble across your past memories and see a graveyard of lost potential and time, rather than happy memories and 'good old us'...
The people that we surround ourselves with ultimately effect who and how we will become that which is to be becometh of ourselves... I know this, yet I can never truly see who is who until it's too late- until the damage is done and I'm more lost and confused than I was when I sought refuge in their warm, glowing empty scrotum sack of a life... Is my issue trust? Is it ignorance?
Am I trusting the wrong people? Am I letting my pathetic attachment for the human race blind me to these truths? What am I trying to prove by all this thought? What am I trying to say by posting this on the internet?
Too much thought is placed in everything... Yes, it is thought, our conscience, psyche that divides us and the rest of the 'lower' carbon life forms... But how much do people over think these days?
I'm probably over thinking right now...
Or am I reaching out of the box and messing with how perfectly still everything seems right now just to see what will happen?
I think that (in all brutal honesty) that deep underneath this trained, polite, sweet young girl who enjoys things like getting stoned and eating cookies with milk= I am an anarchist.
I feel like I'm waking up out of a coma. That the past year I have been living the life that everyone else told me to live. Try this, take this, dance to this, appreciate this... Maybe the promise of real friends was enticing enough to drag me in... But not anymore.
I don't know what I want anymore. Maybe I'm simply confusing myself for the heck of it... Everything is too perfect now, I can't handle being happy in my life so I have to mess it up by being uncertain about what I want for my future. The end of the year is coming and decisions have to be made... I don't want to be a Naturopath... I want to be a tattoo artist. But no, it's not the safe option, I wasn't good enough to be a tattoo artist, that's what I kept telling myself.
But I am good enough! And I don't think settling for my second dream, the dream that I gave myself so that down the line I could say to the world 'Fuck you, I did it on my own anyway!' is kinda big considering if I make a mistake it will cost me $45'000 dollars...
I'm sick of 'people-pleasing' my way through life. I'm sick of smoking, I'm sick of the acid, the pills, the parties where I stop half way through and have the dawning of a life time 'What the fuck am I doing here?'
Well? What the fuck AM I doing here? What do I see myself doing in the next 20 years? I thought by the time I was 28 I wanted to be married or at least in a stable relationship, hopefully with a house of my own, slowly on the way to children with a degree under my belt and my own business set up and going quite nicely.
HOW BORING. HOW SAFE AND STUPID AND BOOOOOOORRRRRIIIIINNNNNGGGGGG.
I dont want that!
I want to be half way around the world, staying at some little beach resort, with palm trees and coconuts freshly falling to the ground. Where the only music that's made is the music played by the instruments we have with us and the only food we can get is that which we cook ourselves. I want to have a house with no walls, a bong made of bamboo and fire dances on full moons. I want to have a box of paints and pencils and special things that I take with me everywhere, and I take photos of all the new and exciting places I go. I want to speak fluent japanese and live about half hours drive from Harajuku, in some small town with no internet access... Or some pokey little apartment in a sea of apartments just like that, with the smell of smoke and ramen in the air, with a bedroom full of stupid japo-asian crap... I want my phone to have one of those dangly bell thingies, those things that every asian girl seems to have on anything and everything they can attach one too... Where I spend my days either working in a tatoo studio show casing my artistic talents or working at home from a laptop- slowly but surely writing the autobiography of my life, documenting my encounters with REAL people, not just people who believe they're outrospective because they do acid every weekend or sit around in a house pilling to the sound of oblivion.
I want to live a LIFE... One that I ACTUALLY want rather than one that is just as pleasing but much easier to obtain.
I'm sick of the people in my life that mean something to me now holding me in a dream world that will have me stay within that world because of my fears that they may not exist in the one that I create for myself. And in all this winding, long winded way of saying 'I'm afraid to follow my dreams because it may force me to abandon the ones that I love, that I'm afraid to abandon this lifestyle that I'm beginning to resent with every ounce of my being because I'm afraid that I'll loose the ones that I love' = I have also thus come to that realisation myself.
Perhaps this is the way in which I cut free from those strings, perhaps this is the catalyst piece of the puzzle that makes all those other stupid pieces make sense. I just wish that the things of my future didn't seem so far away and that the things of my past didn't still hold so much emotional control over me. I wish I didn't still see his face in everything and pretend not too.
I wish I didn't lie to myself, that my present was just a little bit EXCITING for once so that I might be able to forget about what everything ISNT right now...
I wish I wasn't so god damn crazy... I wish none of this made any sense to you, if you even exist... Why do I believe that anyone will ever find this? Read this? Understand this to a degree to which it changes their lives forever? I wish it meant something... As much as it means to me...
But it won't. And no body will read it. And even on this vast, interconnected, ever important giggamegaterrabitter world that zooms back and forth every second of every day for the rest of my life until something better or bigger or more important comes along that will wipe out this old and futile model-- I am just misunderstood, and pathetically silent and small in the grand scheme of things.
That THIS my non existent friend is what I have now invented as silent SHOUTING... It doesn't matter how hard I cry- everything in my miserable, pent up and inexpressive life will ultimately remain the same... No one hears it. No one takes it in. No one learns a thing and my dawning of a lifetime is wasted away to the emotional ramblings of a teenage idiot.
Spread Chaos... Peace is for the delinquent, and futile.
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