The Tiny Nuggets vs The Sideways-Eight Pile

So here's the deal in my mind right now now. Right now there's this huge pile of shit, and if I dig into it, there are a few nuggets of gold, but beneath it, lays an infinite supply of gold. I just have to clear it away. The gold that lay inside the shit doesn't even tempt me, but it really annoys me. I want to get to the real source of the gold, but it is more difficult than getting to the tiny pieces in the pile of shit. In order to get the real source of gold, I have to clean up the shit completely.

Mind-Stabbingly Angry (but not really)

That I want to stab it with a rusting jagged knife and watch it slowly bleed to death illustrates pretty clearly how angry I am with my own mind right now, or perhaps just a piece of it, for if I were angry with it entirely, I wouldn't be typing this; would I? That piece, we'll call it the emo-lobe for fun, is sending the purest form of ambivalence known to man directly into my emotional center at the most awkward times imaginable. At times when I feel worried, it decides to tell me that I also feel calm, and at times when I feel calm, it screams to me that I should also be worried. As a result, I don't know what to feel at times when I should feel something, and all of the parts of my mind besides the emo-lobe want me to be sure, so my mind is at a constant imbalance and will probably be so until the emo-lobe becomes more sure. 

Uppeeee

Life seems to be looking up for me right now, so I'm in a pretty good mood. What I'm trying to do is stay in that good mood as long as possible, so that the next time I hit it, it'll last even longer, and eventually, I'll almost always be in a good mood. Fun, right?

System Shlocking

I'm sick of thinking in such a depressive way, so right now I'm trying my hardest to get out of the system of thought patterns my brain currently occupies. It hurts my gut whenever I do it, but I have a feeling that it's supposed to. I have a feeling that it is somewhat similar to quitting smoking or video gaming, that it's gonna feel really bad to be out of it for a good while before it ever starts feeling good. I may not even notice when it starts feeling good, for it may be an "I got used to it enough." moment sort of like Stanley Yelnats's experience in "Holes," but I know that whatever pain I go through to get out of it definitely feels better than staying in it.

Battlefield

Right now my brain feels split in half, like there are two armies, both battling to the death, trying to win power over my inspiration. They don't want to compromise, nor does either one want to give up, so they fight constantly. I know which one of them I'm rooting for, but it seems like the control over the final verdict is either out of my hands or based purely upon long distance strategies that I initiate

I want to live

So here I am, sitting at the bottom of a dark well, the ring above me, and water all around me. I think to myself that there is no way out for me, that I should just give up, but then I get an idea.

I search around the water until I find a dead body, Samara's if you know the story. Then I look at the water irrigated face of hers and see how worthless she really is. I smile because she looks kind of funny in a creepy way, then I drop her and try to think of a way out.

Treasure Island

I remember when I was younger trying to read Treasure Island. The version my family had in the house was a really old looking worn out hardcover with a

Blandness

Thought dumpage, eh? I need to come up with a new name for this, seriously! Ahahahahaha. Here goes nothing. I don't know what the fuck to say. There's nothing to say, really. Everything's already been said. I don't want to keep typing, but my fingers keep moving regardless, so come on, and follow me into this magical world of brain knowledge soup. We'll go for the greatest dive ever. Make sure to bring your scuba-gear, or you may drown.

The Collupsus

Sinking sand best describes what I feel right now, being stuck in it. The harder I try to get out of it, that faster I sink, and if I choose to ignore it, I sink at a much slower rate, but I still sink. I have very little knowledge of sinking sand, so I don't know if it is possible for a person to get out of it on his or her own. In all of the movies I've seen that feature such an element, someone has to be on the other side to pull the sinker up, or the sinker has to have something to grab onto to pull himself or herself out.

The Worker's Pointless Problem

Once upon a time there was a lowly peasant, a worker who worked twelve hours a day beneath the baking sun on the king's various extravagant building projects. He, like nearly every other worker, hated the king and his selfish, pointless buildings, bridges, boats, and other things, for the king already had plenty of them, and the villagers weren't even allowed to glance at such architecture by law, or they would be beheaded and fed to pigs.

Bad Writing, the Road to Hell

I don't feel like I'm gaining much wisdom by typing my thoughts haphazardly. In fact, I may be loosing some. My grammar, punctuation, and paragraph structure feel like they're on a downward spiral toward nothingness.

Reading Trouble

I feel like a fool right now, a blind fool hopefully groping for some sense of fun, of meaning. I need something to hold on to, something that doesn't annoy me and that won't instantly disappear the moment that it's over. I think I need to read some more, at least until the point when I can read stuff without doubting whether I read a sentence right or not. Oh, by the way I'm having a sort of reading problem right now. (I forgot to mention that, didn't I? Silly me.)

Door

Billy got up and began walking toward the door. "Where are you going, Billy?" his mother said. He turned to her, pointed towards his head, and made a circular motion with his index finger. "Make sure to pick up some bread on your way back." she said. He slammed the door on his way out.

Each step he took on the gravel path that lead to town echoed across the barren land that lay before him. Why did he do this walk everyday? Was the one piece of bread and jar of milk really worth so much trouble? He sighed. It was pretty hot today. The sun looked kind of different as well. It was a lot more red than usual.

After two hours of walking, Billy looked up and smiled when he saw a giant watchtower far off in the distance, the edge of town. He began to increase his pace a bit, and in no time he was standing in front of a ten foot high wooden gate. 

A voice came from above. "Who goes there?" Billy looked up and saw what looked like a kid dressed in armor, must be new. "Billy goes here!" he said. The guard pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and started reading down it. "No need to check," Billy said, "I'm not on the list." The guard dropped the piece of paper. Not on the list? He looked down at Billy.

My Little Pony

There is a lot of things I can write about, but none of said things come instantly to mind, so I'll just begin my prose by saying that I don't know how I'm going to begin in some long winded sentence that no one really enjoys reading. Hopefully I can come up with something to type if I think hard enough, for I am in strange waters right now, and don't know which way goes where. There are no roman's to do as they do, so no, I can't be a copy cat. Perhaps I have to create my own village, or my own house. Perhaps I'm stuck on an island like Robinson Crusoe, and I have to survive on my own until a Friday finds me, and chooses to help me.

Sticky

I feel so stuck right now. How does that make you feel? I haven't assumed anything, so you can answer in whatever way you want. All is good. Okay. I'm done.


This is getting boring and repetitive. Goodbye.

Shakmeh!

I'm so bored. I want to do something. I want to create something, but my mind won't let be inspired by creating that thing until it's been finished, which kind of pisses me off. Wouldn't that piss you off if you couldn't know how you feel about something until it's finished. Thanks a lot forum

Writing, Yay

So, I started writing the script to a movie/play/whatever about a gang of people planning to do something to someone (I haven't really figured out what they're going to do yet, so go figure, heh heh heh), and a random book about a random person who faces a bunch of challenges after he dies

yoink

I don't like this! I don't like this at all. This is stupid; stop it! STOP STOP IT RIGHT NOW! I'm tired of this. I swear I will find you and kill you if you don't stop! STOP! Stop this bullshit! I'm tired of this. Get the hell out of my life right now. Come on! How long am I supposed to wait for you to move your fucking trap! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! Now what do I do? I dont' knowkads f wat the fuck to do. I'm so damn tired of this. I'm so tired. Over and over and over again. Never ceasing, or only appearing to be ceasing. STOP RIGHT NOW! AHAHFHAHFAHHAHAF:SHSKLJF

Out of the forest

I want to be free from these chains, man; I want to feel like I can do whatever the hell I want to do. Whatever. I need a break from this suffering thing. I need to rest, but can I? That's the question I ask myself everyday in some way or another, so should have a pretty good idea of what the answer is, but I don't, for I have never remembered the times I've asked that questions and the answers I've given myself. Have you ever forgotten something that you thought was important, then remembered it and and gotten worried about having forgotten about it. I don't know what I'm saying, for I am in a mindset that doesn't want to allow me to know what the fuck I'm saying. I shoot for the stars all the time, but I keep missing. Should I continue? Is it worth it? I don't even know why the hell I'm asking myself these questions when I already know that the answer is yes. What is wrong with me? I need to figure that out at some point. I'm kind of bored of going through these constant phases of good bad good bad good bad really good really bad. I need to get beyond the phase point and into the reality of feeling really good ninety percent of the time and understanding why I feel bad when I do feel bad. Sorry about the unprofessional decoding of the electric signals in my brain you have to witnsess. I just feel to lazy to use a better decoder now. I can't believe it, but that is actually really fun to do, say something like that, something that's metaphorical and interesting. I want to do that kind of stuff all the time, dude! I wanna be free!!!!!

And I want to love music knowing that I won't fall down and die once I stop listening to it. I want to love music for what it is, not what it was! I'm really tired of going through life thinking that I'm on a battery and no charger exists. I'd prefer to be on the food that I eat and the things that I do. I really want to live like a liver would, and when I say liver I don't mean that certain part of the human body, but I mean one who lives, who breathes, who sees the reason to keep on chugging. I need to sing, I need to love, I need someone to love. Perhaps that's why I'm feeling so bad. I have no one to love, but that's simply not the case. I have tones of people who are dear to me, who I'd be willing to die for, but why have I been giving them the cold shoulder. I don't know. I don't like saying that I don't know; you know? I really really really want to break out of these stupid chains and collars that are wrapped tightly around my neck. I can barely breathe with them here. Why do I want to spell neck like kneck? Isn't that weird? Maybe my mind connects neck with a word like knock or know. I don't want to keep saying things on repeat, so I'll say something different.

Super Mario Galaxy has an amazing soundtrack. Every orchestral piece is so magical sounding, like a fairytale, and when that magic is combined with the sci-fi element of outerspace and planets, a beautiful new creature is born. I don't know what else to say. I'm on the verge of eating my brain right now with the way its been acting, although it's gotten better. I'm afraid of time, or rather a timer. This fear of being timed makes me impatient. You know, like whatever his name is in the Mummy. "Patience is a virtue!" "NOT RIGHT NOW IT ISN'T!" I feel like that, but I don't even see the mummies faithful followers acting there. I've only heard from someone else that they might be there. So, yeah. I don't feel really great right now. My stomach has this warm feeling of some sort of pain again, but that goes away when I ignore it. I should look at the past when it didn't go away and realize that now that it does go away that my life has improved. Dammit, I hate not checking the grammar of these sentences. I want to type good sentences! I want to be a good writer. At least right now I know that I'm typing bad sentences sometimes. At least I feel it in my heart and soul.

I am alive again. I am alive again. How many times must I say that to make it true? I think it is true, but my brain won't let me feel it until I prove that it's true. Don't you see? I see that there are lots of things that I need to do right now and far away from now, but I don't want to do them in the current state that I'm in, the state that I know will disappear if I keep walking steadily down the road my feet have been firmly trapsing on for at least a month now. I just need to keep taking steps in the right direction, and eventually I'll have traveled the necessary mile and extra mile that I need to get out of this dark forest of death and destruction. The nice animals have given me good guidance on the way out; I'm probably following one of them right now. I know they don't lie, for they are good creatures who have been tested by the forest, a forest who kills liars at first sight. I suppose in this forest that a liar is the worst criminal. I've lied before, but I don't ever feel comfortable doing it.

I know the way to the village, and I'll gladly show you if you give me some gold.

Gold? I don't have any gold.

Well, what do you have?

Nothing.

Okay, then, give me some of your nothing and we'll call it even. How about that?

How can I feel honest when I'm giving you nothing.

How can I feel feel kind when I don't help someone in need. Give me your nothing. I'll take it on with you.

Okay.

Come on, lets get out of this place.

Do you know the way.

No, but I do know half of it. Do you happen to know the other half?

I don't know.

I have a feeling you do, brother.

Why are you calling me that.

Because I want you to be my friend. Come on, the half I know is this way.

How do you know that the half you know won't lead us deeper into the forest?

I don't, but I believe in myself. I think it's time that you did the same.

I ... want to.

But....

But, I don't know how.

This is the excuse I hear from every single person in the world, "I don't know how," and do you know what I tell those who say it?

What?

Nothing! Hahahahahahahaha.

You're being weird.

I know, right?

Well, all is fine and good and dandy, if ya let me see who can be.... me.

What on earth stands on this earth?

The world is alive with a fever tonight, aye? At least videogamesitesthatnooneknowsaboutwise, I would say. Now lets go and see what's been happening, or not. I'm going to talk about Sonic The Hedgehog now.

Short Stop and a Long Ride

Man, I do know. That's why I'm typing this; I know. Come on, who could possibly start typing something if some part of them didn't want to type something down? I don't know the answer to that question unless mind control has been achieved somewhere in this wicked and happy world.

Appalachian Trail

I just watched a documentary on the Appalachian Trail, which caused me to remember how much I liked Ryu from the street fighter movie, or rather what he was doing the street fighter movie, traveling randomly.

The "Wake" of progress

So, doing things and thinking about doing them is helping my mind heal by keeping me from thinking of depression. Good for me, right? Heheheheheheheheh.

Not terrible, but bland.

What a dull life we live in our cars and houses on the streets of brains splattered across the lanes, we should quickly run towards the source of happiness. When I speak of joy, I mean not the joy one experiences when in some sort of fun event, no, I mean the joy that is peace of mind, the constant tone that lets one know that life is living.

See the see from the nose of complexity.

I don't feel like working right now, so I'm typing some fun little groups of letters to get myself into feeling like working. I know that I can if I do this, so I am.

The world is so mixed up sometimes, and right now my brain feels like a gray mess of jelly and blood. I know what I believe in, and I know what I like doing, but I don't feel the feeling of animation when I try doing or believing those things. I feel like they've run dry or something,

Random free colors of thought

The way the world flies at me sometimes, it's quite a terror, but I still linger here, a lonely, outletless poet waiting for the reason to reveal itself to me. I see nature in beautiful colors, but they are only colors, right. If I try to describe the beauty, I may loose myself in it and become crazy. The insane asylum certainly doesn't reject poets. In fact, it probably attracts them somewhat, for poets are they who see the world as it truly is, like all other artists, but what makes poets special?

Short shart sharry!

Ummm, yeah, I don't know what I'm doing right now. Do you? Of course you don't because you're not in my head; I am. The village was very quiet and dark, so quiet and dark, in fact, that every single villager became blind with hatred and envy. They all killed each other with knives,

Either before or after...

This moment right now is either the calm before the storm or the calm after the storm has slowly subsided. I don't know which. I just feel like right now my mind is in limbo, so wish me luck; hope that I get on the right path and choose the right thing to do.

And the time to act is now!

I feel like now is the time for me to create something, for me to let my brain flow and flutter and splat its contents on the walls of people's houses, metaphorically speaking, of course. I've decided to start right here on this blog because I feel like typing something, so listen with your eyes and brain to this wonderous byte of prose while thinking of whatever you want.

It's a low

That's the thing that pushes your head into the ground. That's the thing that wills you to loose yourself. That's the thing that attempts to force you into doing something stupid, but what is it caused by? This is what confuses me. It should be caused by a run of times or a loss of energy, but neither of these seem to be the true case.

Beauty

To see true beauty is what inspires me and drives me to create. Wow. I hope to see more of it really soon.

Conficence is me!

Well, I feel very confident right now.

Good day to you sir, seriously

Hello to the world, I have been very busy doing stuff that ultimately ends in goodness for me, so I'm good. I'm feeling pretty good, except for this weird burning sensation that seems to be bothering me down below, but seeing as almost all of the other troubles I've had have gone away, I'm pretty confident that this one will too.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUP DDDDDDDDDDDOOOOOOOOWN!

No no NOOOOO! WHY WON'T YOU JUST FUCKING STAY UP! UP DOWN UP DOWN UP DOWN! UP is good! DOWN is bad! GET IT!? AHHHHHHHHH!

























interpret that however you fucking want.

Ten Minutes of Ahhhhhhhh!

I'm going to start work in ten minutes, so this is an epilogue of my before-work reaction to work. Enjoy.

The crashed switchen ship!

There's a valley of shitstorms commin, capt'n! I've seen it with me own eyes, sire! Let us cast up our sails and be off before yee get hit by the barge like your old man!

Nay, we shall stay and brave it!

Capt'n, that's suicide, is it not?

The Nothing

No, not the nothing! It will never bother me again, for there is always something to do. I just have to look harder, or perhaps work harder at what I've abandoned.

The Type Type Test

I don't feel like typing anything down, but some part of me obviously does, for I am typing this down right now. I guess that's the end of the test. Now lets talk about life.

Really got into work today.

Actually did something, yay.

Thoughts have been dumped.

Right, so, how?

No bars held, I feel bad. There's a feeling in my stomach that won't go away that stops me from thinking about what I want to think about. Isn't that weird. I really feel bad, like there's someone grabbing at it everytime I try. I need this to end. I don't want it to come back; I want it to go away. Why won't it go away. Is there any way I can make this fucking thing go away. I didn't even feel like saying fucking there; I just sort of said it because I

Step One Done

Step one has been completed, now its time for step two; I'm not sure if it'll be easier or harder to do, but I hope that it will be a swift step. I wonder how many steps there are. Hmmmm, perhaps a ton.

Sailing

Lets soar away on a magic cloud that takes use across the sea to new islands of adventure and wonder. Nevermind, I think my cloud has died, and, as far as I know, it's the only cloud in existance that can do what it can to. Lets just walk instead.

da

Bullshit is so rampant in my mind that I keep thinking every thought in my mind is  bullshit! But I know that it's not; I know that there is something that I must grab onto, or I'll fucking die, but what the fuck? Why not just let the fucking evil demon fly back down to hell where he belongs? Why not just eat the fucking shit and spit it right back at that motherfucker!?

Short carefully written paragaph

So I decided to try some academic writing, you know, 'cause that's a blast, right? Anyways, I wrote one short paragraph that explains one reason why I think a hand-written letter is more human than a printed letter or an email. Obviously, it's meant to be a piece of an entire essay on the subject, but just observe this piece and maybe you'll learn a little bit about how my

Value

Boy oh boy, I need some value in my life. I need something that's worth living for. The position I'm in right now could either appear as a blessing or a curse depending on how I look at it. I constantly need to be doing something, or I'll slip into some eery state of depression that tries its hardest to suck the life out of me at a slow and agonizing pace, so watching things

Nietzsche time has minded medics madly

I read some random Nietzsche tonight, "The Problem of Socrates." Twas interesting enough. I learned some stuff about the early Greeks that I didn't know. They apparently, at least in the context of Nietzsche rhetoric, prized beauty as the most important achievement above all else, which made them throw rationality out the window. Or perhaps rationality hadn't been invented

Shneva ent Byrn is popluar in Germany?

In a day, my site hits for Shneva ent Byrn rose to nearly a hundred, and that's a lot to me. I wonder what did it? Maybe German people like stuff like that. Anyways, that made me happy, so, yeah. I'm feeling pretty good right now. How are you? Are you having fun, yet? Did you do any of the exercises I told you about? I knew you would, oh faithful readers. And, that's the end.

Another way to think metaphorically, or at least to think.

Imagine yourself as an object that you examine and ask yourself, in that position, what do you want? What is your job? What is your purpose? What is your greatest desire? How do you see the things you interact with? For instance, if you picture yourself as, say, a candy bar, you may come up with answers like, "My goal is to be eaten," or "I want to be infected by fungus spores,"

Wow.

I feel really inspired right now. Isn't that odd? I feel like I can do anything I want to do. This is great. I hope you readers feel that way too. If you don't, here's some advice (in many different [well probably one considering how upety I am right now] quotations):

Metaphors

I just realized how much I love metaphors and thinking metaphorically. What's really special about this type of thinking is that it makes you observe things from as many perspectives as possible. Wait, first I should explain what metaphorical thinking is. Basically, in a nutshell, it's trying to come up with comparisons of every object around you with different objects, places or people. For example, if I could try comparing a person to a chair as far as his or her personality goes.

Must keep sane!

Ya, this is another one of those times when I just keep typing until I get back to calmness. I need to think of what the world looks like from space, so I can understand what it would be like to live on mars. You know the martians, they're so racist against those saturnians; last time I saw a whole bunch of them beating each other up for no apparent reason.

Yikes yikes yikes.

I have to do something or I'll end up not wanting to do anything but linger in the bowels of life itself. Motivation again is a very elusive item that one must have in order to do anything. Most people can get motivated to do something really easily, but there are some people, and I think I fit in this category right now, who, for one reason or another, have no way to motivate themselves. Being one of these people, let me explain my personal dilemma, in a very vague manner of course:

WHY AM I SO UNDRIVEN?!

Dammit dammit dammit! What the hell is going on in my head!? I feel like doing nothing! It sucks; it really really really sucks. I need to be inspired. Why is this stupid fucking demon stealing away every ounce of happiness I can bring out from my store? Why do I have a freaking store and not a factory is a better question, I suppose. Man, I'm so afraid right now. I'm all shaky and shaky because I really feel like an irresistible force is pulling my brain to a place of sadness and boring. I need to get out of this right now, so until I'm awake from this nightmare, I'll keep typing.

Work vs not work.

Am I impatient, or are the techniques I've conceived and believed missing something? This question has been attacking me recently and I can't seem to find the answer, although the latter seems to be a good contender in my current state of mind.

Quiet Headache

My head hurts, but it's really hard to notice it hurting. It's kind of like a mellow headache that seems to subtly occupy my head while I'm not concentrating on it, which makes it difficult for me to use my brain because it makes everything seem clustered and messed up and un-orderly.

Oops, I skipped a day.

Well, that's dumb now isn't it. I skipped a day of posting, and I was such a roll. Oh well. Unsurprisingly, that is all I have to say right now. What else could I possibly want to say? There's nothing. I really have to get to work anyways. You've got to go dig those holes.

Roads

Okay, so this is gonna be a pretty quick blog since nothing especially interesting happened to me today, so bear with me, or actually it shouldn't be too hard to do that, 'cause this blog is gonna be short, right? Right. I know that I'm right. Lets go.

Okay, so today I have felt pretty good so far, but the good feeling seems to be dropping slightly at the moment, so I'm hoping that writing this post will somehow bring me back up to goodness again. I really don't know what I want to talk about. What is there to talk about? Art? I suppose I did take a little look at art sites recently, but not for the sake of art, more for the sake of the actual design of the websites.

Motivation Droppage

I really really don't feel like writing a blog today, which means that I actually really really do feel like doing it, so be prepared to be amazed at how motivated I can make myself by simply writing the way I feel right now as if I felt like a hero of the world that had no troubles whatsoever.

The Horse-Eyed Moron Strikes Again

Yeah, ignore the title. I have know clue what the hell it means. Lets just get down to business (to defeat the Huns, heheheh). I feel quite unreal. I want to get engaged in the activities set before me, and I know a way of doing it, but it's so hard. Wow, that was winny. I really need to cut the bullshit and just do the work. I really really really really do.

Continuing Attacks

So, as these attacks on my soul continue, I can't help but feel like a person who just quit smoking, shaky, twitchy, and desperately wanting something that I can't have. On another note, I feel happy right now. That's right; despite all of the attacks on my happiness, none of them have been able to harm the core, none of them are strong enough to bring me all the way down. They can show me the bottom for split seconds at the time and make me feel like a bungee jumper on his way down, but other than those little jumps, nothing big. It's a good thing too, for I feel very fine and dandy. Now that sounded fake, but I assure you it's not. Now lets discuss something else, shall we?

First Thoughts

Welcome to my stupid blog. This is the place where I post my thoughts that run through my head right as they run through my head, so good luck interpreting them, mister, or miss, or whatever kind of creature you might be that can understand the English language.