Let's Drift Away

It's almost comical how I don't want to be here.
I didn't know I had such a short temper.
People piss me off and I get so frustrated, and I have so many things to say but I can't.
It's sad because I know the reason why I can't.

Negative thoughts transpire, words that pierce surface, and my mind conjures the scenario as if it will one day happen. I imagine myself saying what I want, and sometimes that suffices.

I smile at the idea of other peoples expectations,
how indifferent people are
how some people lack etiquette and overall politeness.

That's what you get for being fucking nice.

To hell with the new shit, whether or not you think you fit in

I don’t know if we’re programmed to be blind, indifferent and sheep like.
But I know we’ve got our faults
So we’ve got a world, with people telling us
How to act
How to dress
How to be beautiful
How to be:
Insecure

There’s a comfort in being complimented, and there’s albeit redundant, a greater comfort in being complimented more than once.


Djdudgdh
I have so many things to say.
A word to define
And yet syllables
And sentences refrain from forming

I’m still too boring to tell people what I think.



****

I sketch invisible monsters in my notebook and wonder if the world could ever look this way again.
Class is mundane, and the only spectacle to be seen (besides my pterodactyl hovering in a pattern of blue lines) is the pink hydrangea on the window sill. I feel compelled to comment: “It reminds me of Tuesday’s With Morrie” but no one would get it. At least I don’t think so.

the lights keep switching off




You can't stand the dark

But the tungsten has been used up,
and you can't help but feel used too

did you know Emily Dickinson, was extremely introverted?

Plato's a bitch, and so is his cave.

10.35am

I'm kind of sleepy.
My parents agree that a math tutor is necessary.
So I can drop to Catholic Studies now.

I was reading critical readings just today. And the most profound thing i had read, was something that I had already known.
That love is not the sum total of everything life has to offer.
I wish more people knew this.

I haven't written here in a while. Which is good, it means I've found a different outlet for self expression. Or maybe I've just been studying quite a bit.
I'm reading The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco at the moment.
Well at least I'm attempting to read what is a very difficult novel.

I've also been reading poetry by Walt Whitman and Oscar Wilde.
I love language and reading and english.

And I love that I am free

Perhaps something on epistemology

Don't Be Hasty.

I can't let go because I was not holding on to anything in the first place.
At least nothing tangible
All I have are vignettes
And you occupy every second of those brief moments
The way you smile at me
They way your dimples show
The way you don’t know that every time you do so,
My mind conjures the perfect line

You walk past me.
I think equinox
Perhaps never
It’s just all in my head
But I’m still here,
I’m still wishing