The thing that makes me hopeful for this generation is that we are all driven by passion. No more are we forced to succumb to societal pressures in our life choices and we strive to do what we want to do, and what we love to do. We’re finally doing what we want with our lives. And that makes me hopeful.
Embodied cliches are disappointingly breathtaking. It sucks how much rustling winds are able to effect me. The life of a romantic is entirely too trivial to handle.
I like to think about the night. About the darkness. About all those that are lonely, out there experiencing that same feeling of remorse for past experiences and decisions they’ve made that have haunted them. I yearn to haunt those that yearn haunting. I want to speak to those that are unable to define the emotions and feelings they want to read. I want to want feeling and yearn yearning. I have nothing to offer this world but a cold reflection of what it truly is in an honest description. I hate what I am and what I’ve become, yet I seek to progress as we all do. I want to grow and develop into the more vindictive and violent description of reality that is incomprehensible to most yet definable and approachable to all. This is what I need, and I hate myself for it. The cool embrace of a warm cigarette is comforting to those unable to express what they truly feel, and are too broken to find the place within them to clean up after themselves. I need to find a clean medium to portray the whisperings in the wind only I am able to hear. The buzzing of inebriation opens us up to greater reflection end possibility the conscious mind cannot possess. That’s enough for tonight. Enjoy the moment. Looking out onto a limited scape… Is truly the possession of a limited spirit. One must be capable of imagining an infinite portrait of a limited world which we all exist within. Life becomes more bitter the more we near the end, and we must fight that bitterness with all the strength we have within us. Good night and good luck.
Life is delicate and angry and blistering and genuine if you allow it to happen through you. Life is the heart and the soul melting together in a series of events that challenges, provokes and breaks us down. Life is yearning regret and wistful pessimism wrapped in contradiction. Life is power and weakness coinciding in something so much larger than we can comprehend. Life is love, and we should say it more often.
It’s a truly blissful feeling to be completely immune to what’s happening around you. To be able to see the mouths of strangers move and not be able to nor want to in any sense hear whatever mundane ideas they’re sloppily throwing around to one another is absolutely lovely. You can sit back and smile and relax within the comforts of your own head without trying to carefully sift through ignorant perceptions of what you’re trying to say. This bitterness is telling me that I need change and I think I’m ready for it. The fuse is burning and it’s just a matter of time.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad, it matters that it’s getting done” he repeats to himself…
I think that stubbornness reveals different things about people in different situations. Obviously. That was dumb but I’ve committed to showing an honest writing style that accepts mistakes. This is why I’ll let you know that I struggled to find the right tense of stubborn at the beginning of this paragraph way more than necessary. My excuse? I’ve been drinking. Not much at all, but it’s college and I feel like that’s still a valid explanation for anything I may do. Let’s get back on track here. I’m not a very stubborn individual I don’t think; I just really hate being proved wrong, as everyone does. I mean, I get that I’m wrong about like 75% of things, but I don’t need people to shove it in my face politely like they’re doing me some sort of favour by letting me learn something by it. The nerve. Maybe I am stubborn. This basketball game is pretty entertaining, Russell Westbrook is one hell of an athlete. I can’t believe I’m going to publish this shit again. Who do I think I am? Bad at writing, that’s who.
I’m sorry. This got out of hand in a hurry. I’ll be back tomorrow with literary genius, I swear. I take that back immediately but you and I both knew that before you even read that that that wasn’t gonna happen. Gonna is officially a word? I can use it? Gotta is too? What has the world come to… Also, if you didn’t notice, I used the word “that” three times in a row up there and that’s pretty neat. Maybe I am a literary genius… Okay bye.