Thursday, November 12, 2009

Blabber

Mood: restless, caged in my own thoughts with no outlet, tired, in need of something, can't put my finger on it.
I've been writing in things that are not this blog often, out of sight. Which is nice for the main part, but my main purpose right now is to be seen and create something.
So if I am not a writer than, so be it, I feel like I'm wasting potential right now.

I do not want to grow up like my mother, which is to say I don't want a disease that makes me bed ridden for the most part.
I do not want to ever be completely isolated, thats one of my fears right now, growing up to be alone. I don't know what I am going to do when I have to move out of the house. I'm quite sure I'm rather dependent on my parents.

Funny how you trade dependence from one thing to another and we call it freedom.
I have an obsession with freedom. Not sure how thats going to work out because there is no total freedom, not that I can see. Freedom to adhere to genetics and behavioral teachings. I like the work adhere. Its a nice one.

I love the song Private Universe. Its by Crowded House.

So I finally found what I wanted in music today, and you know what, I was uncomfortable in it, to some degree, i wanted more soothing music, but now I know where to go when in that state.

I watched so many movies yesterday. And now I can't stand anymore, except that I want to watch Up or 500 days of Summer with someone. But not alone.
I don't even really want to go to school, I don't get fulfillment there a lot. People all have there constraints; I have no room to complain.

list of songs I really like at the moment
Private Universe, Crowded House
I am Trying to Break your Heart, Wilco
Oh, Comely, Neutral Milk Hotel
Ahh, Men, Say Anything

Copying people is a weird topic, I've got nothing of value to contribute to that yet. Later I think I will, and maybe it'll be interesting and slight right, but I never am fully. I don't care that I'm hard to understand sometimes. Sometimes. Well mainly, actually.

I feel better.

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