You realize that any cults with any activity worth a damn are RP, clique, troll, anime... basically nothing with much value (to me, anyway. And yes, I hate on RP a lot and I realize it could be very intellectual but, fuck you).
And you decide you're going to make a super awesome cult and everyone is going to love it and you have some great ideas, and maybe even a name and you think, "Yeah, I'm going to start that sucker up TODAY".
Only to be all, "Wait, wait, wait, wait a MINUTE! I've tried this before."
It's a fixed point in time. And it can never be altered.
Thus concludes my shameless whining and self amusement.
Or that there is a schism in the Facebook world and there's a bunch of subcultural social networking sites. I wouldn't mind a geek version of VF or a horror movie version. Hell, even movie geek would be nice, because I'm watching Upstream Color alone because my friends always claim to want to watch good cinema, but we always end up watching popcorn movies and TV shows.
Presenting the Pork Loin Mini sandwiches - A beautiful pork loin is seasoned and seared on a grill, then cooked to tender perfection. It's cut into generous slices and placed on a buttery steak roll with a sweet and tangy horseradish spread, then topped with a home-made tomato relish.
When you bite into it, the tender pork loin melts like butter, not tough. It's met with a sweet tangy-ness that compliments the meat, followed by a sweet zing that's sure to make your heart melt.
We moved in to our new place. There are still a few boxes to unpack, but most everything is in place. I haven't been exercising like I should, but I did a very short workout (3 x 10 pushups, crunches, and squats) yesterday, and I'm getting back to my regular routine today.
to know that I have an unhealthy obsession with collecting notebooks/journals/etc…
… and most of the time, they remain blank.
Something about those blank pages; something about the endless possibilities of the words and memories and stories and emotions that they can be filled with. Apart of me is almost afraid to touch these pages - afraid of tainting them with anything unworthy of their pale, virgin beauty.
It says you have Writer's anxiety. You really wanna write an awesome story, but you feel discouraged by your abilities because you think nothing you write will be remotely comparable to that of the great books you've read. It's one of the causes of Writer's Block. I had to deal with it too before I could start writing. And now my box full of notebooks is finally becoming a box full of manuscripts.
you think nothing you write will be remotely comparable to that of the great books you've read.More like being afraid that anything I write will never be comparable to how I feel in the moment of it's happening.And Dez... I love pens.
I have the same problem. I buy all these pretty gorgeous journals and notebooks. But when I go to write it's always in a cheap school type notebook. That way when I spaz out and rip it in half it doesn't matter what it looks like or what I'm wasting.
I'm going to get a lot of shit for this journal entry. So, prepare yourself, James. I know you're not going to like it. But it is through my written word and my written word alone that I am completely honest with myself. I wouldn't normally share this publicly, but... in a way, I'm so mentally exhausted from hiding how I truly feel.
I don’t think there’s ever been a time in my life where I’ve truly experienced the feeling of “loneliness”. For the better part of my life I’ve been surrounded by those who truly care for me - who make it a part of their daily life to remind me just how much I mean to them. A true blessing, really. Everything I ever asked for in my childhood. However, I feel as though over time I’ve come to take advantage of this blessing.
I had never really stopped to appreciate what it meant to have those people in my life; to reflect for a moment on the true meaning of their words and actions when they felt the need to beckon my company. For years I just sort of drifted between the presence of loved ones, filling my life with social gatherings and aimless adventures to pass the days. Never once did I even have the CHANCE to be lonely.
Of course this is all completely contradicting to my introverted lifestyle. Yes I love to socialize and surround myself with people, but deep down I am and always have been an introspective, introverted shut-in. At least mentally. However, that’s where none of this makes sense.
In these recent days I’ve come to face a depression unlike any I’ve experienced. Not worse, just… different. An ache, a pull, a magnetic heaviness in the very core of myself from something I’ve never been pried away from. The term homesickness is exhausted - it’s been 5 months. I don’t look foreword to waiting at least a year for this to pass. I don’t want to. I don’t want to. I know it won’t.
It is in these days that a feeling envelops me in an obsessive, mind-numbing experience that I’m completely unprepared for. “Lonely,” I would hear others say. “I’m lonely.” I would think to myself, always, “What does that mean? What does that feel like? To be ‘lonely’?” There was always a boyfriend. I was never single. There were always friends. I was never lonely. I would mistake this feeling for my anti-social, distant spurts I would find myself in - being mentally apart from a conversation, an event, an experience. Perhaps that was my subconscious attempt to experience this “loneliness” and know what it is like to truly appreciate the company of a good friend, a lover, and even a stranger with a story and a good drink.
But not today, not yesterday, and not tomorrow. I am beside myself in thinking that this is anything but lonely. Where I am surrounded by someone at all times - at work, at home, in the arms of my boyfriend - I am truly lonely. I am without. I am wanting. I am missing, and I’ve been ripped apart from everything I always took for granted.
I am lonely. In this room, in this house, in this city and in this state of being. Truly, and utterly, lonely.
Mood: Not drinking fast enough. Music: "Silence" by Delerium
Jenn, I always advise people to keep busy and happy, or at least to keep busy. Sometimes when you keep busy you forget that you are not happy. Best summer wishes.I can definitely see what you're saying, and I appreciate the advice. I can confirm that this "works", but I can't say that it "helps". Life is too short to fill it with things to make us forget how unhappy we truly are. Why not fill it with things that remind us everyday that we truly are happy?
I can only be me and love you as much as I always have and always will. If that isn't enough for you, for your own happiness, I can't do anything to change that. I offered you my heart, and it has since belonged only to you. I have been there for you through good, bad, and the very painful. I have helped you whenever you asked, and some times when you didn't, but I knew you needed it, and had too much pride to ask. I have loved you, forgiven you, and stood by you no matter what has happened.