| | Honestly, I can't.
I simply have no explanation, because every aspect of who I am, how I think, what I believe, and how I feel contradicts and verifies itself at the exact same time.
Absolutes happen both never and always in my head. It's a collision and peace of the grayscale, fantastical color, and the light and darkness that cannot be understood. My mind knows more and less than it informs me of.
I just want to talk. Writing words, tapping a key, holding a freaking pen makes me feel better. I don't want to notice anything around me. I just want to create and destroy in the confines of my own fairytale. I wonder if God is clinically depressed. It must suck to be him... the souls, lives, hopes, shouts, sobs, torment, joy, and sin of billions, before, after, and now. How is not insane by now? I can hardly handle my own mind. He has to handle all of ours, AND his own. I wonder what God dreams of.
I'm listening to Monster by Skillet for at least the twentieth time in a row. I can't put into words how true it is.
Don't mind my rambles. Meandering the English language is a hobby of mine. It's also pretty destructive. A lot of hurt and a lot of hope come from language. It's up to you to decide what you see. To be pretty honest, it's everyone own stupid choice. They can see reality or see a fairytale. You can't have both, no matter what the romantics and the writers say. Don't you dare let the cynics keep you from striving for it, though, because hope often comes most from a hopeless cause. Why do we strive to be perfect people when we never will be? Because we have a hope, that which comes from a righteous ignorance, the kind that is actually correct.
But hey, my name is Joseph. Nice to meet you.
You will find that most things I write are either giving fairytale or reality a big, philosophized version of the finger. I strive for both, I scream in hatred at both. Meh, that's just me. Running in circles is not a crime, it's just stupid. If it's not wrong, don't stop it. Bwahaha. Circles.
That reminds me of a rhyme I once read in a book. The book was called The Riddles of Epsilon.
"Ours is for the Ouroborous,
Ours is for to be empowered,
Head to tail we chant in chorus,
The innocent will be devoured."
T'was sung by the Solemn Choir, a group of men holding onto the will to bring back Cimul, the Lord and Prince of Inversion, to bring back the jewel stricken from him, and to, yes, devour the innocent.
It's an interesting topic, to say the least.
"The secret side of me
I never let you see
I keep it caged, but I can't control it, so stay away from me, the beast
Is ugly, I feel the rage, and I just can't hold it"
As Stalin said, one death is a tragedy, but millions is a statistic.
"It's scratchin on the walls
In the closet, in the halls
It comes awake, and I can't control it
Hidin' under the bed
In my body, in my head
Why won't somebody come and save me from this? Make it end!"
If you think about, we're a supreme irony. A creature design to companion Perfection, but we slay it. ^_^
"I feel it deep within
Just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster!"
Also, we are an irony in that we live, but we die. Opposites, but all experience them. All humans start at the North pole, a frigid land yet vibrant, beautiful and full of life you find no where else. You travel, travel, trip, trip, experience, experience, fail, fail, and you reach the South pole: cold enough to freeze your bones, this is the end of the trip. There is no where left to go but down, down, there. You can see the big metaphor. Hey, death isn't that bad. At least it has penguins!
"I hate what I've become
The nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I feel like a monster!"
It's tragic, isn't it? Life, dies. Oh, dear. This, is an end. It's an escape, or is it a trip to a different world?
"I FEEL LIKE A MONSTER!"
You can't always win, though. You have a right to the pursuit of happiness, not to happiness itself. That's locked up, and not for the likes of you, street urchin!
"My secret side I keep
Hid under lock and key
I keep it caged, but I can't control it, 'cause if I let him out,
He'll tear me up, break me down
Why won't somebody come and save me from this? Make it end!"
Life is too short to not notice that quotation marks resemble pencil erasers. I holds words, BUT, then, BLIP! It's gone. Like life.
"It's hidin' in the dark
Its teeth are razor sharp
There's no escape for me
It wants my soul, it wants my heart"
And then you feel so lonely when you realize what the word means. No one else is you, there's just one person inside that soul. Sure, there's everyone outside of you, but does that count? Everyone is separated, ironically, by a vehicle that creates contact. You just want to break free, don't you? Heheha. DON'T YOU?!
"No one can hear me scream
Maybe it's just a dream
Or maybe it's inside of me
Stop this monster!"
Two hundred years ago, and all the up to the Victorian Era and beyond, doctors could not tell the difference between a dead man and one in a coma. Thus, people being buried alive was quite common. To solve this, coffins were invent that had a string inside it that went through a pipe in the ground and to the surface above, where it rang a bell to alert the grave keeper that you had been buried alive, and he could quickly dig you up.
*ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!* ^.^
Heheh, monsters.
“He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” - Friedrich Nietzsche
The abyss and I know the very color in the other's eyes. We have gazed quite thoroughly.
My name is Joseph (a second meeting, haha!) and I fought the monster among me so much that it has become me. It was better left untouched, I guess.
I would ask that you not tap into the depths of your mind. Everyone is capable of the abyss; this you must never keep far from mind. It must have been interesting to be Jesus, because every human temptation was thrown at him. I wonder how that felt...
Bye. -_^
Chill, you spazerts.
\,,/~Joseph~\,,/
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