I don't know what to talk about, but I want to talk about something.
Bleghhhhhhhhh.
I wish I had a little better control over my brain, or more understanding of the world around me. Maybe someday I will.
So math class produces some of my best pieces of writing. I think its because in those moments of pure logic my brain realizes how much it hates organized thinking.
You know when you tell yourself you shouldn't think about something, and you promise yourself you won't and you know that it's a bad idea to, but you do anyway.
I really miss somethings.
I know I shouldn't.
I have opinions but I can't always follow them. Maybe I'm missing something. Whatever. I really don't think it matters in the first place, I just like to pretend that it does. Maybe the fact that I know I'm pretending makes me more realistic, maybe it makes me crazy. I really don't know. I'd like to think that it just makes me more realistic. But that really is kind of a morbid thought. It really is. Because that means that people arent experiencing true reality and there is just a web of lies and misconceptions that entangle and esnare everyone. That means its going to be hard to find the truth. Which is what i'd like to think I'm after.

Jumping thoughts.

Sometimes it takes a while to see sense.
I think I've found it. Whatever the hell sense is supposed to mean these days. I've been thinking a lot about morals. And the way things have to be. And how people can fuck up so much with so little time to do so.
and man, people really can fuck a situation up. Or maybe the fucking up isn't really fucking up, its just, well a neccesary step in not fucking up. And is fucking up really that bad?
I don't think so, because well, what happens really can't be undone, unless one owns a time machine, and even if one didown a time machine, would changing things change things for the worse.
What really is the worse?
Sure maybe it is the worse in one point of view, but there are many points of view.
Perhaps things that turn forthe worst disagree with the most amount of peoples points of views. But then there are many public opinions that are just plain ass shitty.
And the pubic can be swayed quite easily. How the hell else could a spanish inquisition or a hollocoust happen. I think i spelled hollocoust wrong.

I once wrote someone a really emotional letter that explained everything.
I still have it somewhere.
Maybe I should have given him it, although common sense says that would be a really bad decision. Like really really bad.
But thats only because I still kind of care about it.

Not caring seems to be a very big defense in a lot of peoples care. I wonder if its possible to care about everythin, although I think that the person who did all the caring wouldnt really last very long.

The elite really bother me, but thats probably becuase I'm not among them. Poor people really don't matter to me, thats probably because I'm a middle class citizen.

I think thats about all thats on my mind.

Capturing feelings

Sometimes i let myself go to a point where I must make a choice that wouldn't have been possible had the going not been gone. And by going I mean mental pain. And by mental I mean to a point of complete hopelessness and pointless that corrupts every feeling receptor in my body. And by that i mean its not that bad.
But this is writing.
And hurting still hurts.
And thats still the only words that I can allow to define this situation.
Have you ever been among friends and felt completely alone?
I don't think it can go much further.
It's always a goodbye, thats the only way I know how to fix anything.
But goobyes always mean hello.
The point it really boils down to is if the hello really would be worth the goodbye.
and if i have it in me.
I dont think i have it in me.
I have to have it in me.
Do I?

What are you supposed to do when you can't find the answers to questions you just don't know how to ask.
I don't know.

But then again nothing really is that known.

Have you ever put your self in pain in order to make sure you're still feeling.
Have you ever contemplated puting a gun to your head just to make sure you wouldnt pull the trigger.

I'm not suicidal, I just don't care.

Just once

A smile on his face appeared the moment he saw me walk into the room. A smile was all that it took to know the truth, however far we had run from it before. It was a peace treaty at the end of the war. It was the light at the end of the tunnel, however cliche that may seem, however little he deserved cliches. As soon as it had formed across his face I knew that he had never intended to go as far as he had, and that he hadn't intentionally lied about this. I will admit that at this part in the story I had expected something more...loud, but the silence was perfect despite my expectations. With it, I was reminded not of this forced thing life had become but the beautiful thing it started out as. It was clear now that he didn't expect me to forgive him, there was nothing to forgive in the first place. The simple truth was he couldn't force it anymore.
And then he pulled the trigger.

Realization

So I'm actually not as mad as I thought I was. Just afraid. And overreactant.

Very overreactant.

I think I get it from my mother.

But I shouldn't blame her.

I don't really know if there is really anyone to blame, even myself, because can people really chose their personalities when it comes down to it? Yes we can change ourselves, but we are all given some basics.

As for now its just a basic that a have to deal with.

So there was this quote from a short movie about marbury vs. madison that reallly struct home. i even wrote it down. "Peace is not the absence of conflict but rather the ability to cope with it."

In my opinion humans are always with war at themselves, its a matter or heart vs. head. Sometimes the head wins and the heart becomes defeated, giving up the fight but for a few rare occasions. At other times the heart is the winner and the head is lost.

But i feel bad for people like that, neither of those...well not really options or choices...I guess they would be possible occurences seem like living to me. What is life without utter feeling?

What is a life without constant pain without the head?

But those with slightly equal yet completely opposite parts (the heart and head) seem to be fated to constantly struggle with themselves. With each fight each side learning a little more about how to cope with the other side. Or with one side winning and the other losing ground, with becomes dangerous when one side looses to much and become no more than a faded memory.

And i made this a draft a few days ago because it didn't seem finished. Which is funny because today i kinda got the end for it.

I was watching this show that randomly popped up on the tv, which i dont watch often, about Batman and the psychology of it. It went on to say that there is a lot of different opinions over which persona of Bruce wayne is the real man.

Batman or Bruce Wayne?

I came to the conclusion that it was Batman. I'm sure this is important, I just don't really have a reason yet. Perhaps it's that i believe the person we chose to be not who we are in the begining is what makes us us. And well, Batman was always in Bruce Wayne, he just had to find a way to let him free.

If that makes any sense.

The Hidden

Alone in a room
one foot out the door
and one hand clutching to a wall
that's somehow clutching firmly back
I can't remember rooms having arms before

Looking the celling
watching things that never got to be
break free from their hold
feeling for once a thing that I could always see
going round the ring
is there no escape?
it's always safe
safe from everything but me

It' just a room
but rooms can hold a lot

Fighting shadows that creep along
flickering through the light
Its just this room and me
Right?

Perhaps the time has come to find a way
to leave behind the warmth, the light and this solid safety net
because sometimes what lies in the dark
can set you free.

No idea

Why I write things I don't mean. And say things I don't mean. And think things I don't really believe.
I need to figure this shit out
and learn to control my mouth.
and mostly figure this shit out.

Adressed to no one in particular.

A heart can only forgive so many times before it learns to close itself off to a transgression. So much hurt, so many times, it suprising that I can even care about it anymore.
And still they seem to think they deserve to be forgiven, without even seeing the effect it has taken within me. I used to be so venerable to people and their actions, so ready to trust again and again. I can't this time. Its the final straw. I will not be forgotten again and continue to place these people as a priority. Call it being passive and giving up, lack of dedication.
I know what I'm saying is a load of bullshit, but i will allow myself a moment or too of believing what I'm saying, thinking I'm at some epiphany.
I know I'm not.
Then why is it that when I look at them my heart feels nothing?
I used to care, care about people. I feel no motivation any more towards these beings, no compassion for those in tough spots within themselves.
They should fucking grow up.
Stop bringing others down.
Just leave me alone if you were expecting some help.
I'm through with giving my entire being to people who can not appreciate nor even see what is going on. Idiots.
And yet I can not stop myself.
Perhaps I am the idiot thinking I am above them, perhaps I am on a level below them.
I'm at a level I'm comfortable with. Fuck them.

So I realize I'm overreacting. Completely. But something just kind of snapped today. I'm so tired of being dragged down by others and their negativity and begging of me to agree with them. Being molded by thoughts other than myself. I manage to pull myself out of it and I'm sucked right back in the moment I try to focuss on something else.
Stupid old habitts.
I really don't need it.
And yet i feel as if I'm chained down by those i care about.
So tired of forgetting when its important and remembering when I'm drowning in depths I could have avoided had my brain just remembered.
Why can't I remember?
Perhaps it's best to forget.
It's sometime unavoidable.

And here is an inespacable conclusion that I've been trying to avoid for a very long time.
I'm not a people person.
Why do I want to be?