these things.

A blog consisting of ramblings, thoughts, rants and little words of wisdom.

This place, this endless expanse of blue sky

An ocean turned in on itself.

The meager tips of industry piecing through the inverted sea,

Quiet.

The ocassional sound of mechanisms, the distance and the echo.

These walls that divide beating hearts from pulsing veins,

These thoughts, so displaced yet so understood,

Put together,

Ripped a part.

Wind, as it dances through the leaves,

Other cliche words weaved.

The sun reflects onto the pavement, dry

Glaring into our open eyes.

Shut the door,

Drown the noise.

We’ll fix it.

I will fix it.

We walk out of habit towards the light.

The vast ocean tipped over is our only end.

The only limit.

The last resort.

No date marked.

Of course I’d suppose that this obvious problem I have stems from my solitude as a child. I easily throw something away just as easily as I become attached to something. I’m not afraid of being alone for loneliness and I are very good friends yet I fear being left behind instead. The difference between the two is that with the former there is no other option while with the latter there is always a shadow of truth behind the fact that these people didn’t want you.

There is somehow, a beauty in silence. Silence has come to a point where it is corrupted, the idea so contorted that silence now meant brought the feeling of awkwardness or indifference.

A coincidence.

June 17th, 2011 

In which I realize that I am a completely impersonal person. I like being around people but it eventually comes to a point where the entirety of everyone I know and everything that has happened to me creates such a burning hatred, per say, for everything and anything. Not to say that I hate people or humanity as a whole but more to imply that I have an uncanny habit of seeing the negatives in everything. I cannot take compliments well and I purposely reply with some sort of witty comeback or insult. Despite the jokes I may say and all the things I do that would cause one to think I have some sort of problem, I, as a person, am complex. I do not like to ask for things. I do not like to talk to people I do not know. I have some sort of strange inferiority complex in which I acknowledge the fact that I lack any exemplary talent whatsoever. The words that I weave are not appreciated by many and perhaps one of my most redeeming qualities is my ability to make others laugh. I am not exceptionally smart, especially when compared to those I am around on a daily basis. It is because of my perhaps erratic personality that I am not taken seriously, and maybe this is why I lack the ability to be extremely close to others. I often disregard my own feelings and opinions in order to please others and my wants and needs take the backseat in many situations. It is in this that I acknowledge the fact that I am a pushover and I let people push me around. this has been the case for my whole life. I do not have great self-esteem though that is often masked by my pseudo-confidence that I use on a daily basis. I have figured that in my group of friends I do not have a set position, and also realize the fact that I do not have one specific group of friends to begin with. I can identify with people from many walks of life but even so, I find myself placed oddly whenever I am in social situations. I often regard myself as socially awkward which has seemed to stick, however though this may be true I can eventually become comfortable with other people. I have a strange outlook on life and culture in general and have a keen knack for reading one’s expressions. I am a watcher, a bystander and not one to be a part of or cause great deals of drama. In no way am I confrontational or aggressive. Even the people I regard to be closest to me are sometimes unable to empathise with my feelings, given I rarely choose to openly speak about them. I do not like conventional cheesy bullshit but perhaps that is one of my biggest problems. Because I lack both the abilities to express my own feelings and relate to others, I have become a less than desirable friend. My talents are always overshadowed by everything. I have a complex that prevents me from ever believing that I will amount to anything as I am too late, too young, too old, too fat, too ect. This is the case even with things I have done since I was a child. Swimming, violin, writing. I figure that these meagre and obscure “talents” will be eventually disregarded as time wears on as they are picked up, altered and improved upon on such a way that I believe that I will never pick up. Though these obstacles may be used for incentive, encouragement and competition, for someone such as I, these only work to bring me down further. Even in things I love, things I have a passion for, there is always something in my way. Despite my perhaps cheery demeanour I still see the negatives in everything I do and everything I see. My outlook on life is unconventional and my thoughts often consist of criticism about the people around me. Rarely do I voice these thoughts but when I do it seems as if they are taken as jokes or not taken at all.