Jammes14

complexity

things have gotten way too complex. too much debate going
on in my head. the notion of actually loving myself has not
so much opened the doors, but rather just flickered on some
lights in my head. now, second guesses are become way too
frequent. there's multiple sides to everything. i have no
idea where this is going to take me. it could lead to more
motivation, but it could also lead to suicide. im so
ignorant of where everything is going. why don't other
people have this same problem? ive never heard of anyone
thinking these same thoughts, having these same issues,
etc. i know im not a prodigy or anything, so im either
insane or retarded. i could see it going either way. now,
these complexities, i hit something today, i had like a
vision, or the comprehension of a concept, it was weird
like.... shit, i think i forgot it... but it was something
like finding the details in a concept, where there was
multiple layers to that single concept, and to find the
details of something introduces broader descriptions of
other factors, something like that. but anyway, the
question is, is that a sign of schizophrenia or stupidity?
maybe it was just my mind talking out of its ass, trying to
look like something its not. another thing, if i really am
going to learn to love myself, will i attempt art? i mean,
i was channel surfing, and thinking that i could do stuff
better than that. really, im not just some redneck critic
throwing beer cans at a tv, ive thought about it all and
really think i could do things better. but, i have a
feeling thats not really how art goes, its not what you
think, it needs to go through censorship, marketing, etc,
and by then, it looks like what i wanted to reform. or,
something that i dread even more, is to be the guy who
thinks he's really deep and writes poetry and goes to clubs
and claims to love indie artists, etc, and be something
because thats what he thinks is cool, like its all about
image. or some bum who paints who thinks its really deep
and stuff, but he's just out for shock value, or wants
attention, something like that. i think im pretty picky
about who i am, and yet i dont give a shit about where my
life is going as of now. i think that i would write poetry
at the very least right now, if there was just a purpose.
but then, if i do it for a purpose, like to show someone,
doesn't that go against everything i stand for in poetry? i
don't want attention, i don't want to do things that have a
purpose, im either retarded or insane, this is too complex.
and then suicide steps in. its just such an obvious answer.
but, im pretty confidant things wont get that serious. if i
know anything, its that most things evolve rather slowly in
my mind, and ill have plenty of free time to processss the
negativity of suicide. maybe ill start up the refused party
programme, but then again, that requires work, and
research, and it may go against my religion. but, now that
i think of it, it may actually be my calling. revolution,
an honorable purpose. but, i don't want to pull off a spike
spiegel and massacre a corporate office building. i don't
know how far ill take myself. but back to loving myself,
maybe i will. i should give it time. or not. i mean, i make
an attempt not to ever look at myself in the mirror. i
can't draw animate objects, the only thing i tolerate is my
doodles of geometric crap, like spirals and stuff. if i
draw anything that happens to resemple an eye, or a face,
immedicately i have to cover it up and scribble all over it
until i can no longer see what i had originally drawn. do
you think i make too many analogies? attempting to love
myself is like looking into the sun to blind myself from
the constant bright flashes of guilt. like the eye of the
tornado. i need to get a new fuckin bike tire. i doubt ill
ever drive in the near future. bikes are better since (stop
me if i made this list already): good for the environment,
good excerise, reduces traffic, safer, more freedom, and
just basically able to live life more. the downsides are
that i cant carry a lot cargo, and that i wont be able to
travel great distances without being really sweaty and
tired by the time i get there. maybe ill just take a bus or
taxi when i have to do something like that. anyway, why do
i write like someone else is reading this? for some reason,
i keep shit like daily planners and stuff, almost thinking
it will be remembered and published like kurt cobain's
journals. i dunno, i guess thats just how i shit out my
thoughts. fuck, school starts in 24 hours. its not that i
hate school or educatoin, its just that i hate certain
parts of it, which ruins everything else. i have that
mindset for some reaosn. for example, the early mornings
suck. the constant pressure of people's existence around
you, knowing that theyll see you tomarrow, so don't fuck up
today, that kinda scares me. plus im not a great reader. i
mean, i read all the time, just surfing the internet and
stuff, but when it comes to novels, ugh, i cant
concentrate. i probably have add. fuck it. maybe if i just
ask for help with add pills, my parents wont worry, then
when i see a doctor person, he'll give me a questionarre,
ill reveal my depression, and ill be set for provac. i
heard they legalized that for kids 7 to 17. i fear
misdiagnosis for a lot of kids. man, i hate kids. maybe
thats just me, hating what i used to be, or something. only
10 more days of ap euro, finally, i can rid myself of that
class. i hate it. i guess i wouldn't mind it if it was at 1
pm, but its at 8 am, i cant help but sleep. plus, thats the
absolute worst class to sleep in, since its 100% note
taking. i wouldn't put my brain in a robot body. im hungry.
i wish i had motivation. life is too complex. i need a
manual. no one gave me instructions on what to do. well, i
guess you could count my parents, but they were pretty
mellow, and cool with whatever i wanted to grow up to be. i
guess their laid-back attitude backfired, pity. fuckin
shame. i really admire them, too, it would suck if they
were to blame. anyway, so im left with a blank slate, no
prompt, and here i am pissing on it, waiting for a sign.