Monday, June 4, 2012

Journal Snippet: Late Night Bitter

 Note and Explanation: The following is a snippet from my journal, and because it's from there, the chances of it making sense are very low. A forewarning, there will be a lot of run-on sentences and things that may provoke you to ask if I was high while writing, but don't fear. This is just a glimpse at what I'm really thinking a good 70% of the time, and you'll probably look at me funny afterwards

Note #2: The point in posting these is so I can look back at my inner thoughts during my teen years. Think of this as a experiment. After all, who doesn't want to look back and see how stupid they really were? Haha! This particular piece was written roughly around 3:15am after I marathoned Doctor Who. I also would like to note that I sound like a angry drunk during this one. A angry drunk who likes to use extravagant words far to much and is overly melodramatic. Perfection in it's prime. 

 "--There comes a point when enough is enough. When "what did I do?" no longer stands as a innocent question and becomes a statement of ignorance instead.

 Pity is not a suitable reason to continue doing something that makes you suffer. Hope, if you can call it that, eventually has to give way to the undeniable truth.

 When someone bothers you, and I mean really bothers you, there comes a point when it has to stop. No matter how bad the consequences may get, or no matter how much pseudo 'trust' you place in them, things need to disperse.

 When you look at the situation and realize that you've heard the words you're saying and remember that someone else has said them to you before. When you realize that the person patronizing you, and how you feel, is nothing new. When you realize that all along, this is the game you've played. Roles reversed.

 Maturity is when you can no longer use the word as a noun for boasting.

 The walls break and you know and realize the faults you've done and seen, the faults you've been delivered and the faults you've had to fix for other people. The faults you've had to apologize for voicing concern over, and the absolute arrogance a brat has to tell you otherwise.

 The sheer arrogance alone stands for a disperse. The sheer ignorance some people have towards others...

 Anger is a ugly thing. Something that a lot of people bury and deter and try to sway until it fades back again. But when someone, someone your at fault for keeping around, scratches against the wall you've built and whines until it's fallen, then a stand has to be taken.

 An island. Shrouded and shielded by oceans of nothing.

 Isolated. That's where you go.

 That, is where you flee after the great fight. That, will either be your undoing, or the moment you turn to ash.

 Being alive doesn't depend on whether your walking and talking. It's all in your head. Fantasy, history, theory, question... These are the things that keep you running, aren't they?

 Life on Earth is powered by different forms of energy. One of the greatest sources is the sun, isn't it?

 Funny.

 Bitterness. That's another thing that keeps you running. Another core thing that floats around in that vacant head of yours. What else is there? Hmm? Stories, definitely. They're one of the only reasons we're here today. And her, of course.

 It's therapeutic, talking to yourself. Most people don't realize how strangely intriguing it can be. For example, the last few paragraphs. Stupid.

 I'm bored. Always. It's a dull feeling, but every once and awhile it fades and I get a few moments of enjoyment. Still angry though. I'm always angry. Always primed for a fight, after all, all that un-solved melodrama has to have some use."

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