Skip to main content

free write of September 14th

I enjoy mushrooms and acid, and could see myself using them in the future for various escapades. Just that coming up, the butterflies in my stomach already high, flying in a frenzy that almost makes me lose my lunch. I guess that’s what you get for introducing a foreign substance into a body so fine tuned for reality. I don’t know why humans are so entranced by altering what we regard as normalcy. Maybe we are constantly dissatisfied with what we know, and those of us unfit for scholarly expansion of the brain take to drug fuelled expansion of the mind. Then there’s me, who’s a happy mix of both. I guess I always want to learn; both about the planet around me and the world inside my head. It’s a weird mix. I don’t know what I’d classify myself as. A scholar, only by the fact I’m spending more time in university than any of my other friends. I’m a learner. A ponderer; I am constantly attempting to quench some intangible thirst I feel, for anything. The world around me will never lose its wonder. I could learn for my whole life and still not know nearly enough. So I pair academia with my own teachings. My philosophies, brought on by altered views from illegal substances. When I’m buzzed I see the earth in a whole new way, a way that sciences can’t teach; only I myself can discover. I’m left wondering about the energy particle duality of electrons in the context of the human duality of physical and soul. I make connections no course can supply me with, and I will never get the answers to, but the sheer questioning is all that is important. I am a constantly unsatiated (screw you red squiggly line, I can make up words if I want), always have a roiling hunger inside me that I can only guess what to satisfy it with. So I take pieces of anything I can understand and place it there, and piece by piece I am becoming full. But never enough to make me stop searching.

Comments

BlackRabbit said…
I have read so many of your blogs. Each time I am so caught up after the first dozen words or so that I continue until the words are finished. Then I still there, just wanting to read more. Wishing you hadn't stopped. I relate so well at times that I feel you are writing for me; for so many others...
You are a writer, like it or not.
It makes me wonder, what are you going to college for? What are you studying?
What is it that you want to be?

Popular posts from this blog

teardas

this is the reason i broke up with him in the first place. because it was so much stress and it just seemed hopeless. i know that's a harsh word but its true. he's got so much on his plate and i dont want any more on mine. i have my own set of worries i need to take care of. but i cant just turn him away. the way he opened up to me...it litteraly moved me to tears. i feel his dispair, his depression. he has nothing. but i dont want him to have no one too. at the moment i feel thats all i can do; give him the comfort of knowing that i'm here for him, that he has me. contrairy to his beleifs he hasnt lost me. if he really had, i wouldnt have seen him yestrerday, or tuesday, or any times before that. we wouldnt have acted or talked the way we did if he'd truley lost me. his words stung because i felt his pain through them. his feelings soaking the words and turning them a different colour. i never told him to get the fuck out of my life, but it hurt to know thats how he fe

Sweet Nothings

You know me too well. you break these daily boundaries these walls i tried not to build you pave the way for happiness in other conciousnesess. I had a dream last night. It was beautiful. And all because of you

neighborhood nights

I feel like somewhere along my life there was a shift. Suddenly nothing was for fun any more, it was all necessary. Suddenly I'm bothering with what others think, afraid to link any connotations I deem negative to my being. Why do I care what people I've never met, who'll forget they ever saw me, think of me; this obscure stranger in their peripherals. It's a warped sense of mind and place, seeing the space around me in my mind's made up ways. So I stray away from everyone, isolating myself unwittingly, turning them against me. Self fulfilling prophecies, I succeed in creating this reality. I need to break free from my mind's mentalities, with which negativity has propelled me. So I've started a new sport. I call it neighborhood night dancing. Donning headphones and heading out alone to the empty streets as the city sleeps, and moving to the beat. Letting it compel me towards a freedom long gone missing. Letting go is an art. Complete release is a tough