amour amour

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

- 9:04 pm

im still waiting for my graveyard train

its funny how night comes to pass and the world changes; everything seen so differently in the day is seen again at night, the sinks low, beyond sight and up comes the moon. its nice that we can find some constancy in these everyday happenings when our own sad short lives are so full of indiscriminate change, when joy pauses fleetingly by the doorstep, and disappears elsewhere and the whole world is so oblivious; and rightfully so. you gotta work to make it last, but sometimes one person cant save a sinking ship-especially if that ship is the titanic, cos you cant turn back time, cos you cant relive past joys and happiness, you can only look back at the mementos of the time and immerse yourself in memories and shadows of an existence completely free from sorrow - but obviously, nothing lasts. just when you think you got it all right, just when you think lifes one step away from perfection - it all comes crashing down again, and sometimes in most dramatic fashion.

consider the purpose of life, and its strange nature. our lives are all interconnected, everything has to happen for a reason, because some everything is driven by reason - and still i contest that, because reason is not the main prerequisite for anything to exist, we all live, and we die, and thats it. the end. life is finite, and life should be pure and free and life should not be a prententious facade, because in life, fewer things bring more joy than music, or love and so on and so forth. consider the part in 'i,robot' when it was mentioned that robots, although non sentient prefered to stand together than to stand alone; and its true, its so damn true, noone wants to stand alone, and then again everybody needs a person, one person to confide in, to do everything and anything with - everybody needs a person, and - what do i care. why do i write? questions questioned, answers unspoken, everything happens - but its the waiting that hurts the most, after knowing what life coulda been life, and what woulda been yours, and finally being able to express yourself in a new way, finally being a person, an individual- finally everything.

no, i dont expect anyone to understand, nor do i want to, ill figure out these strange intricacies woven by the threads of my strange mind, let these thoughts wander about till they find some purpose, which undoubtedly eventually they will. i dont want to go on like this right now, im not gonna accept things for how they are, because any person can change their stars - if they believe hard enough.

everything happens for a reason. and for people too scared to face up to what they feel, understand what they want, know what they need, or do what they want to do for fear of demolishing a carefully built up facade - too bad, cos you know that life is short, and you might as well try to do everything you want to do - no, do everything you wanna do before you die, and these are things best shared with other people, so im gonna get a group of friends and were gonna go around the world and do everything there is to do, and somewhere along the way ill meet that punk goth chick with the black mascara and the cussing and the swearing, or her memory memory, and then well die at the same time either from drug overdose, or grow old and retire after setting up a nature reserve and being its wardens, and god knows ill kill any fuck who tries to come near my animals. on the other hand i might just go to hollywood and do what i can in the drama scene before i die - but i must find that punk rock chick from the past with the long messed hair. or maybe not.

its all so strange, writing again at night, like im a different person. like im tired of being someone else, like im 2 people in one, like i can snap and bite and be mean, and i can also go the other way and be gentle and kind and nice, although this is occuring less and less because there arent many alternatives when all life throws at you is bad, and slowly but surely you feel that bitterness building up inside you, because you know like frost told you, that nothing gold can stay, because youve seen the gold, youve felt the gold and you watch it leave you, and know it all goes without being able to do anything other than having your internals wracked totally for the mere fact that you need to maintain outer appearances because nobody else can know, nobody else can ever know, because when they do - they try to invade your life and disrupt it, and all supposedly for the best intentions. and then you have to be optimistic and hold on to whatever passion you have in life, like i have for drama, and im pretty sure that without that ability to act, i would have died a long time ago, taken that leap- because my drama is most of my life to me, because i live and breathe it, because its a part of me, just like these words that release themselves from the confines of my mind constantly being emptied out in search for some answer, an answer not yet arrived, an answer whichll probably never be answered by me, but by someone else, or their actions. maybe it was all supposed to happen, maybe rending actions were fated to occur, maybe some were forced to suffer mental pain in order to learn the true meaning of suffering, maybe some of us do it to achieve nirvana- which happens to be my original sin as i will understand suffering, and will eventually die, through the deprivation of food from my body, eating only when i really need to so as not to collapse from exhaustion, because i need to learn suffering, to learn to cope with it in its highest form, because i never ever want what happened to ever happen again, because nobody deserves it - because its just not worth it, and nothing is.

or i might be all wrong, and confused and not know what im talking about, because im so damn frustrated at everything that has ever gone wrong, and that short, short list of the only things thatve ever gone right, and all of them are past productions. because whenever something went wrong, i gave up and started again. i let go too easily, because nothing could really affect me, and then the whole thing changed, everything changed, and everything was different - but everything that was ever supposed to be anything was really nothing, a game, and like they said,
what it meant to me will eventually be a memory.
but the sweetest memory yet, for it was a living dream, but all dreams end - and there is finality in everything, except the most lasting things - and for some people - there is no lasting. there cant be an end without a beginning, and i blame me for letting anything ever begin - i was wrong, always have been, and still dont give half a fuck, because ive fucked up every single day of my life, to most people, although its supposed to be going slow, and everythings supposed to be fly- nothing will ever be known. how could anyone understand things, beliefs which have twined themselves so tightly around my central nexus, my soul that they became a part of me? how could anybody understand that i live and breathe emotion, and that i can be emotion incarnate because i did it every day of my life up to now, and know well enough that its not much use hiding anything - and that i made a big mistake for trusting to readily, trusting every person in my life, meeting most people with open arms - a huge mistake, because devoting yourself completely to someone will eventually kill you if its not the same. im sorry for trusting just as i did, ill be proper now.

i really will.

throw your dark cloak on me o scourge of the night, that i may pass unnoticed from this world and this life, for this world was not meant for me.

shine down on me o great ball of fire, for i spread my arms and surrender my soul to thee.

hurt me the most, o object of all desire, for today, we sing a song of cold black water on breezy moonlit nights, because for these few moments before passing, we will have peace - yes, you and i.

fin