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I'm in a perpetual phase of transition which doesn't seem to be phasing out.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011


I've been in a difficult spot mentally lately. I don't think I'm depressed,  I'm just having an odd sort of writer's block.  Not really writer's block, more like a breakdown of intuition.  I basically feel like I don't know anything about my surroundings anymore, and I used to think that I knew a lot.  I've been reading too much philosophy about subjectivity.  People are complex, good people do bad things, bad people do good things.  I don't even really believe in good and bad, every person is an amalgamation of sorts. Labelling the ugly and beautiful mental mosaic of humans is often too categorical to allow for anomalies, and let's just admit it, we're all big 'ol cluster fucks of contradictions.   I've felt too freaking exhausted lately to attempt illustrating these complexities in fictional writing.  Plus I'm kind of having a breakdown, and want to erase all presuppositions I've held about people I know.  "He's this, She's that"...It doesn't freaking work that way. I guess I'm just maturing or learning to be less judgy or something. Yet at the same time I've felt more distanced from people than ever.

Anyway all I have right now are some broken excerpts from invisible paragraphs, which I haven't written down yet, and maybe never will.  That's okay.

Straight from my journal:

-When I try to think of the infinite, I just get lost.

-When I try to imagine death I'm always a bystander observing my own rotting corpse, and that's not death at all, I won't be there to observe myself. Nor is a corpse "myself".

-Frantic ecstasy is the worst feeling in the world when it's in the past and you're thinking about it with a tired mind.

-For me happiness has to be fleeting for it to feel awesome.  That's kind of fucked up.

-When I consider the potential optimism of believing in reincarnation I have no faith in myself.

-Sometimes I just want the details of every day existence to disappear, but I'm scared I'll be left with four black, invisible, suffocating walls and not any sort of higher understanding. 

-I was never drawn to the miracles of Jesus Christ.  Humans always need proof, evidence. I don't think all those miracles should have been necessary.  But they were and are.

-Sometimes it's revitalizing to have contact with a truely crazy person.  Makes me feel very sober, very sane. I think I need that juxtaposition from time to time to remind me that I'm not actually nuts.  I tend to romanticize neuroticism.  I'm a lot more level-headed than I want to be.  I'm a pretty good actress though.  I kind of want people to think I'm crazy sometimes.

-Damn it.  Why do I have to believe in the human soul?  My brain doesn't buy it.  Screw you, oh heart of mine.  You're so annoying.  Making me go read all this metaphysics stuff only to learn that I can't read hard books to find my own soul. It's gotta be all simple and shit.  Ugh, simplicity is exhausting, or maybe avoidance is the exhausting part.