Oh to Be Free
I can’t remember the last time I woke up eager to face the day. Without running through thousands of scenarios of how the day could / will go wrong. That’s not even to say that the situations I’m in or the things I’m doing really call for such thoughts, it’s just everyday stuff. It’s getting there, it’s getting out of the house, it’s the deviating from solidarity … allowing myself to ignore the arguments in my head (schizophrenia anyone?) and simply have a good time. The severity of it all is in no way consistent or even related to much of anything besides just being entirely random. Certain people and/or situations seem to be a slight remedy, at least to some extent. It seems the only times (at least lately) that it’s not a concern of mine is when I find myself unable to think (which turns out to be rare). Even in slumber my brain runs a thousand miles a minute, and thankfully to my grand subconscious provides lovely dreams (*cough* sarcasm).
Creating a pseudo Grading Program from scratch isn’t quite as thrilling as one my think (wait, no one thinks that it would be … hmm).
Hands Held High
Today’s song is “Leave Out All The Rest” by Linkin Park:
For the longest time, one of my most prominent fears is leaving this world having accomplished nothing. Without having touched somebody’s life (hopefully more than one) … with no one really caring that I’ve gone and then having to try and explain to St. Peter when I’m at the pearly gates why my name doesn’t appear in his book. Why I spent all of my life worrying more about obtaining things rather than spending it with those that I love and making everlasting experiences for everyone. Why I never reached out to those that needed help … or tried harder to help myself. Why I became the person that I told myself for years I wouldn’t become. Why my life was seemingly meaningless and unimportant because I lived it for the wrong reasons.
That’s why I choose to not sleep sometimes. Because it’s rare that my dreams are ones that I’d want to be having. Nine times out of ten, my dreams are ridiculously realistic nightmares playing on my greatest fears. The subconscious is a strange thing.
Do or do not, there is no try.
These feelings seem to be getting less and less evident as the days go on (at least lately) … which I give credit to various things and events that have occured in the past month or so. I think my three greatest fears (in no particular order) would be: turning into my father (which would probably destroy me if i realized i had), living a pointless life, and forgetting my mom. There are a few others that could be in the top of the list but those three are the ones that seem to cross my mind day in and day out. It’s funny to me in some ways, because it feels like my fears are quite a bit more particular than the “standard ones” (like dying, spiders, height [which i do have a problem with but not in the same magnitude], commitment, public criticism, etc).
The problem with being Democrat is that if you vote for Obama, you’re sexist. And if you vote for Hilary, you’re racist. It’s easy being a Republican. No matter what you’re retarded.
being strangely happy and happily strange,
-josh
Secrets Are Great, Anonymity Is Better
Letters from Post Secret that I can (sadly) relate to:
Lovey Dovey Bullcrap
Forgotten what the holidays are.
Missed birthdays.
Lost friends.
Misplaced dreams and aspirations.
Lost the sense of who I am.
Ever present, always forgotten.
Me.
-josh