desperaterain , 26

Don't let me know we're invisible
Hide behind the pain in my head
I know you see it but won't ever feel it
I'm so glad you don't have to know this
or me

I'm not alone in my suffering
so what good is being alone at all?
If we all feel distraught
can't we join together?

A society of transforming the hurt, scared and scarred.

I am a creative writer. It is what I do (sadly) to make myself happy when I normally can not find happiness.

And yet when I go off on pointless rants
I kind of get angry that no one respects what I have to say.

And yet, that is the nature of not putting my soul into my writing lately.

No one will relate, as per I am on cloud 7, not cloud 9 or 8... so no one really feels that tingling in their spine when I write the utter crap that my mind spews out.

I should sleep.

Sorry for not being excited or happy, but I am in real life!

Too bad no one knows me.

I don't know which is more rewarding
self expression or self-indoctrinating or suicide or finding God (read: religion, salvation) or sleeping all day

[color=red]

<3

I am pleased that you are finding Bright Eyes to be more than a beautiful coincidence of melody, lyrics and emotion.

I know a great deal of people who just... would never like it. It is really hard to get someone else to start liking bright eyes... and it's hard to love something by yourself. So I joined the bright eyes community to remind myself that I'm not the only one.

I'm blinded so much by the sheer emotion of how Conor sings and what he is capable of writing that I forget they are not tool, their message is not a cosmic all-encompassing universe... but of love and heart break and being overwhelmed by the position we find ourselves in.

I think the first girl I meet down here who recognizes the words I am "singing" ... wishing I could sing, I will follow her home and write her letters and fall in love.
I dunno... it's an inexplicable thing.

College is so much fun. In the not form. It's like realizing I am not an upper-class individual all over again.
All the beautiful people hang out together and the less fortunate have beautiful rich friends.

And then there's me. So ... I think I'll take a few years off college to get rich and come back and be COOL.
And have friends? No? Yes? No?

Just kidding, I probably wouldn't have friends then either.
Let's see here... my mind is as absent as my ... mind. (tardy is better than absent once again)

ABSENT. That'd be a good songtitle/band name/word to describe where my mind is./filler/absert/absurd/absent/ better than 8 minute abs... SEVEN MINUTE ABS!

---

I'm not as pleased to find you are sick. A little too much autoerotic asphyxiation? ( the whole reason I was looking for that by the way.. spelling)

kekekeke.

Uhm. Bought a cable modem today. Even less money that I possess now. But eventually it will be replenished.

uhm, didn't do my first real college assignment.
Bad me. But she'll let me turn it in. How nice of her.
And then... it should be fun to watch the steady decline of my comprehension as the semester goes on.

Perhaps I dove in too quickly. Perhaps I need that fucking scholarship.

I took someone's parking spot on the second day of class.
She yelled out the window that it was bad karma.
I smirked to myself about how karma is so fucking grand and yet the worst thing I have endured as of yet was the lightbulb in my room went out.
I'm not tempting fate here. I'm laughing at the fact that I got the parking place before she did, and that was what she was reduced to doing? Yelling out a window about karma? Fuck that. Karma is that you were trying to turn left into a parking spot and I was happily waiting behind the guy and didn't even see anyone on the other side.

Karma is that you woke up ten seconds too late and probably missed 30 other parking spots.
Karma is so much bullshit that I could have killed you and gone back to Wisconsin and disappeared into obscurity.

And yet... what goes around comes around?
I felt bad about it. I apologized to the lady in my head... and everyone I saw that looked like her I looked twice and wondered and contemplated.

And then my car was left on. But security came and turned it off and gave me my keys just as I was going to my car wondering where the fuck my keys were.

Sure, I felt like a total dipshit, but I was in a rush, and of course immediately I thought about the karma statement.
Once again, not karma, but rather Kyle being a complete and total fuckhead.


I need a new car. I need new clothes. I need a job I like.
I need a girl to like me. Any will do.
I need... to stop needing so much materialistic fulfillment.

But ... isn't that what our great pondering leads us to?
I found that life was worth living just to see what the turn and river cards would be, to see if my straight will form, if the flush was waiting, if my full house could be achieved.

The only way to do that is to go out and get what we want. To work toward it, to think toward it, to scratch and crawl and bite and kill and maim toward it.

Lie. Cheat & Steal.
Tolerate it in ourselves but in no one else.
Prosecute them.

I love the hypocrisy. I love hypercripsy. pancakes.hotcakes.sellsellsell buy sell your soul buy sell liquidate bankruptsy

LAWYER!
It's a natural progression that led me to wanting to be a lawyer.

Fuck I can't break this.

Uhm. Fuck my insatiable desire to blabber the fuck on. Fuck.

Three fucks, hooray!

[color=red]
<3

so I started to think about this
and I'd like to finish it.

I have friends who do not cohesively bond with my personality.

I don't know that they are friends.
God knows what is said about me behind my back.

So here's the thing. Just knowing these people brings me down.

Knowing they know me, and yet find absolutely NO problem with never calling, never talking to me, never needing to say anything to me.

And then suddenly I'm around, or I initiate a conversation, and it's all different. It's all lovey-dovey.

Fuck that shit. When I make friends... I want actual friends. People I can talk to about everything and anything twice over. I like to think I am non-judgemental... but some people deserve judgement.
Some people deserve distrust. Some people deserve to not have friends.

I guess I am one of those people.
I also don't deserve a nice car.
I also don't deserve a brain that works on an applicable and real-world level.

At times, I feel like I don't deserve a place in this world. I don't deserve to even talk to people, like somehow they'd be better off... filled with more hope... filled with a greater sense of purpose if they had never spent those few minutes chatting it up with me.

It's a combination of needing to leave but having no where to go.
Needing a change but not being sure if I would still be sane afterwards.
Needing to play bass but sucking, taking difficult courses and being surpassed in knowledge by the chair I'm sitting on, needing more food but being fat.

My mom used to feel this way... she used to tell me stories. She told me that she would let other people walk on her/over her in order to stay their friend. She grew up fast. She changed, she's so much more independant and outspoken about what she wants now because of it.

Reverse psychology applies to her. I can't wait for my psych class to start.

I want to say that if I surround myself by truly insane and illogical things, I will straighten out with time, but that is probably not true.
People have probably gone from schizotypal to schizophrenic through action on such thoughts.

Or maybe it worked and they never needed to talk about it again.

I don't know why I'm writing.
Oh yes. Abuse. Using people.

"I see it around me.
I see it everything."

I don't want to use anyone. I thought we were supposed to be symbiotic organisms? Obviously not.

This .. pains me to write. It pains me to think my distrust has grown. I know there are exceptions. People who are beautiful... but they don't see that in me.
I don't see it in myself.

Maybe that's why I feel like dying so often.
Because I can't differentiate my own faults from what I love in those people I do find beautiful.

I see the physical difference, the obvious aesthetical flaws, the numerous reasons I am not a male model, or even considered attractive or worth talking to.

But the answer lies somewhere deeper.
I sold my soul, I gave up on love, I killed everything anyone could love about me.

I don't want to make up excuses why no one likes me.
I want to know.

This girl in my dreams, does she exist? Is she the uneven remainder of all my misguided thoughts on love?
I told you I would stop existing to be with you.

I don't think she does. If she does, she's where she belongs, far away from me.

The solution? Block everyone who claimed to be my friend from my buddy list. All I ever do is talk on aim all night instead of playing guitar and bass, and that is so much more fun/rewarding.
If I must be a lonely hermit, I might as well learn to play and create something beautiful.
I RIP MY HEART RIGHT OUT!

---

Philosophy begins to take effect right away


you wonder about self-worth and if your life has purpose
KillDistortion (11:34:15 AM): but then we stop to think about if the universe itself has a purpose
KillDistortion (11:35:12 AM): we see infinity above us, in the galaxy; and we see the infinity of the microcosmic universe of cells and micro-biology and quantum physics, and we are somewhere in between... the only things capable of grasping our surroundings on the planet


and yet, we don't understand what's it all for? what are we for? where is our sanctity in prolonged existence? No one knows. A friend of mine told me the other day to be like a flower. Flowers do not care if they are alive or dead, they simply exist. Their beauty is appreciated from time to time, also ignored, but they are indifferent to either. So when we begin living just to see all that we can see, sense all that we can sense; we begin to understand the point of living. Something to the effect of dying at an older age and being able to believe with all our heart that we have lead a good life, and that it is okay for it to end now that we have experienced so much.