"Poetry and painting are done in the same way you make love; it's an exchange of blood, a total embrace—without caution, without any thought of protecting yourself."
—Joan Miro, interview, Cahiers D'Art, 1936
Re-reading my old blogs online helped me see how much I've lived through. I've decided to continue trying to jot down my thoughts as they are now. I remember Adrianna and I would start blogs to keep in touch. We write about our days and read the other's entries. That was the easiest way for me to feel close to her.
Re-reading all that I wrote I saw who I used to be. One day I'll look upon this and think how childish it all seemed. I am terrible at expressing myself. I'm lost somewhere between languages and words. I try not to dwell on this too much.
To each person their problems seem to be the worst. My mom would say this to me all the time. Aspects of my life may seem terrible to some but to me they are my life. Aspects of others' lives may seem difficult for me but to those persons, it is okay.
All I am sure of right now is that I am on the brink of something. I was always extremely cautious and quiet. I never took chances. I kept to myself. Lived in my own mind. Surreality was my reality. What everyone saw day to day I paid little attention to. I'd watch and watch and watch for hours as people go in and out. I still do. I take chances now though. I'm more fearless. I realized that I have nothing to loose. I feel like a referee at a tennis match. Vysoko sizhu, daleko glizhu. I sit and observe. Now I find I'm participating and observing. I move stuff around and watch what happens. I push people's buttons and watch what happens.
I am experimenting. I'm bored. I refuse to believe this is all life has to offer. I want to love and at times I feel filled with it but other times, such as these past two days I feel anger. I want to start trouble. I want to instigate and sit back and watch the world burn. People are so cruel. Society is an engorged dick. It fucks you to death. Good thing I'm an outcast.
And pain? I'm too numb for it. I've been hurt so much that at this point any more pain in my life will leave me unfazed. When people try to hurt me all I can think is "is that all you got?"
This outlook on pain has been crawling over into other aspects of my life. I'm always asking "is this it? Is this the best/worst you can throw at me?"
I think myself to be indestructibile. I am. Whether I am at my best or at my worst, I am indestructible. I long for a connection to people. I have good people in my life. Great people that I can discuss life with for hours. Is it enough? I need someone on my wave length. Someone with courage who throws themselves into situations with the same carelessness and caution as I do. Where is my equal? Where is my opponent? Society as a whole? HA. Society is a joke.
I'm sick of people walking around flaunting their shit when it stinks. I'm so angry. Last week I was all love, all happiness. I hoped I can meet someone who will equate it. I have both an immense amount of love as well as an immense amount of hate.
I am a complete contradiction. I want to help people and hurt them. I love society but at the same time I see it as a speck of dust that I cannot remove from my favorite plastic flower no matter how hard I try.
I'll find happiness. I'll find love. I'll find contentment. I'll die trying.
No comments:
Post a Comment