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Ordinary Eternal Machinery.

That which yields is not always weak.




December 31st, 2012

(no subject)

Fuck 2013.

Instead of listing out resolutions for the upcoming New Year, I say "Fuck it" and come what may. Let's do this 2013.

February 18th, 2009

“I honestly believe that as a result of [my illness] I have felt more things, more deeply; had more experiences, more intensely; loved more, and have been more loved; laughed more often for having cried more often; appreciated more the springs, for all the winters... Depressed, I have crawled on my hands and knees in order to get across a room and have done it for month after month. But normal or manic I have run faster, thought faster, and loved faster than most I know.”

It has been a rough few days to say the least.

November 29th, 2008

(no subject)

I had this written on a notepad but it was left out in the sun. Now the first page is gone. This will start in the middle. Also it is very stream of consciousness type stuff
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November 26th, 2008

(no subject)

I fear at this pace I shall burn up and waste away.

And sadly...this still isn't fast enough. 

November 15th, 2008

(no subject)

I went swing dancing for the first time in years.

I definitely missed it.

July 6th, 2008

(no subject)

I know you but I cannot comprehend you.

May 28th, 2008

(no subject)

We are all trying to escape this existence in one form or another. It seems history is mottled with individuals of importance running from something. You are no different. I am no different.

May 18th, 2008

I Go Back to May 1937 (from The Gold Cell)

I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges,
I see my father strolling out
under the ochre sandstone arch, the
red tiles glinting like bent
plates of blood behind his head, I
see my mother with a few light books at her hip
standing at the pillar made of tiny bricks with the
wrought-iron gate still open behind her, its
sword-tips black in the May air,
they are about to graduate, they are about to get married,
they are kids, they are dumb, all they know is they are
innocent, they would never hurt anybody.
I want to go up to them and say Stop,
don't do it--she's the wrong woman,
he's the wrong man, you are going to do things
you cannot imagine you would ever do,
you are going to do bad things to children,
you are going to suffer in ways you never heard of,
you are going to want to die. I want to go
up to them there in the late May sunlight and say it,
her hungry pretty blank face turning to me,
her pitiful beautiful untouched body,
his arrogant handsome blind face turning to me,
his pitiful beautiful untouched body,
but I don't do it. I want to live. I
take them up like the male and female
paper dolls and bang them together
at the hips like chips of flint as if to
strike sparks from them, I say
Do what you are going to do, and I will tell about it.

-Sharon Olds

April 29th, 2008

Thus ends a chapter...

Today I took my last final. I'll graduate this Saturday at 9am.

Graduation seems to have exacerbated the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that is asking "What now?"

I sometimes visualize my state of mind by viewing my mental image of myself on some type of landscape from the third person. Right now, I'm standing on the top of Everest looking down upon my achievement. But following the afterglow I find myself still not satisfied.

Not satisfied one bit.

This is an exercise against atrophy.
This is a march against apathy.

And so tomorrow comes and life goes on.

April 16th, 2008

This...is a start.

This is an exercise against apathy.
This is a march against atrophy.
Chant this with every step.
Recite this in every breath.
Live this with every action.

Can you see the struggle to stay afloat?
Does my serene floating face betray
My furiously kicking legs?
Water churning like a bubbling cauldron.
Ready to upheave the sordid contents.

This is an exercise against apathy.
This is a march against atrophy.
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