Death verses Realism

J log update~ i find myself growing more and more shallow each day. recently i was even tempted by a friend who said i could buy her drinks. just to have sex? would i really go that far just to satisfy the selfish desire of intimacy that my heart desperately longs for? despite the hate and spite that slowly consumes my heart, i was able to think with my old and considerate mind, warning her of how evil i was, how she should not be near me because my intentions were skewed. i find it odd that my heart wanted to warn her more than it wanted to fulfill its desires. i guess some parts of me still remain. my shallow pursuit shows no signs of halter. it makes me question what my real intentions are. possibly i am still as damaged to not know my own will. if you ask me, i think its all very ironic.

the reaction despite the coordination

Media is a fickle thing. you may find yourself open and defenseless if you rely on it for nutrients.

Is it hard to believe that the inspiration is myself? think of the world of today, the world of tomorrow. the reason we are here is because humans were given the ability to adapt and expand. our minds take a simple seed, a concept of sorts and wrap it up in our fleshy prison like minds. we erode away, further and further until we are left with a raw design, an imaginative idea or ideal for what it should be. we then mutilate and deform what our minds hold captive until it represents best what our ideal is, and we convey this to the world as a 'thought' or a 'concept'. the things you may find inspirational, were once imprisoned in minds of great value, formed from in the blink of an eye. i do not wish to convey anyone's twisted ideal but my own.

living here may be the least of your worries my dear. you too in rebellion have done your share of concept mutilation -- isn't that what rebelling is? you take the standard ideal of law and control and you twist and contort it into what you deem to be a more pleasing ideal, and as a childish whim you act on your new found catalyst as though the epitome of success. we continue to do this until our late late years where we find ourselves justified as 'adults' and productive members of society. so i raise the question: are we adults of maturity acting as children of inexperience, or are we children of reality acting as adults of nobility.

why do you wish to see my scars? look at my body, i will not hide the scars that cover it. within due time every scar will be seen. a scar is a reminder, a visual aid for memory that at one point we were wounded, bleeding, left to rot in our emotions, but overcame our own dramatic downfall only to stand and be looked upon as a monstrosity. might i give you inspiration? scars are healed, if you seek them you will only find what one believes and associates to be the most logical solution. interest is more held in the wounds that are fresh and gory. that way you can stick your fingers in and mutilate it like a concept or idea, and shift small parts of those wounds into your ideal scar for someone's body.

what you may seek is animated frustration, the irritating ideology of society. the twisted concept that is found in most humans that talk. you may see them at the store, you may walk by them on the street. they are twisted, cut open from early childhood and mutilated by the generation above, beside and below. taught that each role is as your so dear media dictates. the reason this has dug its way into my skin is simple, i cut myself open and forcefully removed as many hands as i could just so i could mutilate myself. i took my own flesh and caused it pain, i forced it in ways that are disgusting and repulsive because i knew that eventually i would be myself. now i can walk free in the streets. i have cut myself to remove the poison that was helping me live.

my patience lasts still to this day. i grow thin but not weak. my motive is to stand tall in front of the brainless puppets that society is calling 'women' and 'men'. i wish to twist their ideals, to mutilate each one in ways that they do to themselves each night. to stick my finger in their disgusting wounds and draw a smile with their blood.

you once asked why i burn all the gifted bridges, when i was not holding a match or kerosene. i have never held a knife to a neck that opposes me as i have never ran from those that oppose me. if you fall against me then so be it, i will live to experience and through experience i will live proper to my morality. in this way i will defeat all that oppose me. in the end, you are only fighting against yourself. that is the paradox of the human mind. you can only operate on the fuel you accept and you will only stop when you stop feeding yourself that fuel.

do not be afraid of what i say because it is only but a garnish to the love in my heart. without truth, love becomes weak. without love, truth becomes harsh.

have you tried to garnish truth with love recently? i have. people thought it to be disgusting and they alienated me because of it. that does not matter as much to imply that things have become deformed in the minds of many.

dare you dive deeper into the rabbit hole Ella?

Uhm, J.?

So, about your questions... Since your recent bit of closure, have they been answered? Let me know.

Anywho...

What on earth? What media inspired nonsense is this? Tell me you are not simply a dog chasing cars. Explain to me what has given you those scars :S

I did not know that you felt this way... but I certainly have wanted to say F*** the world, in true anger, but I guess don't mind so much having to live here, it will do, I suppose, til I go Home. So, I still think I don't know, so explain. I've never been more confused by a post.

Uhm, I think that's it.

Hey Ella, did you know?

how about those moments that make you want to scream out, "FUCK THE WORLD!"
how about those same moments where you feel such a release from the bonding chains of your reality that fiction lights up your mind like a wild fire?

i stand before you today, strengthened by forces i should not be encouraged by and i say, "I wish to see the world burn."

Lets light some fireworks and celebrate the coming of age in a world filled with rage.

after this, no black man will say, 'dis bitch be trippin balls!' .


i jab with my right andd block with my left. can you find the open spot and hit me?

Questions

How long do you remain caught up over love?
How far should you push your deepest feelings?
How hard should you try to hold onto what you had?

Do you think letting go is right?
If you let go, will you gain more in the end?
How do you know if its as true for them as it is for you?

Well...

Why do you seek answers to questions that can't be answered without them?

Surrounding yourself in a plethora of maybe, possibly, hopefully and lying to yourself.

Or maybe believing its for the better and living like it does not affect you until a day you magically meet again.

I really don't know. Maybe my voice in this should have remained unspoken from the start. Maybe its not right to still fight and scream about something you can't change. Does that make me a bad person?  Does being critical and serious in this situation make things better or worse?

I have asked random strangers for advice, wisdom, guidance from their hearts.  I have been told one magical thing... honesty.

Honestly, will it help?

well it can't hurt more than it does now...

can it?

Try Honesty

Catching the eyes if the middle-aged gas bar attendant, his imagination went wild. "what are the chances that if i really asked him something serious, he would reply with something amazing?" he thought, as he walked towards the gas bar's front door.

"Hey, hows it going?" He said in a relaxed manner. "Fairly good, Happy new year!" The man replied. "Heh' it is kinda turning out to be happy isnt it..." he replied as he walked through the doors with his head hung low. "oh well, such as life. i better just get my slushie and get out of here." he thought. As he walked to the counter there was a hold up. knowing that the total price of a large slushie is only 2.25, he looked at his handful of change. "four dollars huh?" he tossed it on the counter and calmly walked away saying "no gas, just a large slushie."

as he walked through the door he was greeted by the middle aged man once more. "have a nice night eh!" the man said in a canadian accent. "yea, you too." just as he passed the man, he turned and looked at the man as though he was lost and said, "hey.. i have a question.." "sure." the gas bar attendant replied as enthusiastic as possible. "what sort of advice do you have for life?" he asked while thinking it would get him absolutely nowhere. without hesitation, as if already prepared for this in a divine situation the man replied "Honesty. if anything will get you anywhere in life it is honesty. be honest with everyone even though it may hurt at the time, that way at the end of the day you are not looking behind your back. no one can hold stuff against you." he shook his head in disbelief and looked the man right in the eyes. "Honesty you say? thank you very much... have a good night sir."
"You too bud!" the man replied.






Honesty, huh? it was if he knew by looking at me that i was not being honest with everyone... honest with myself...


thank you...