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Do not frown at your laugh lines; ungratefulness is aging and foul. When I listen, I hear not what you say, but feel what you do not say. You are an image of perfection, with all of your imperfections, which I so perfectly love so imperfectly. Do not long for the luxuries of youth; rejoice for the wisdom of age. Eyes, with their pupils like black holes, see what is before them, but not what is beyond them. Everything in life is a secret ready to be possessed, should I look? No, do not open your eyes. I will take a light and shine it at your eyelids, you will know sun. No, not to see sun, rather, you will feel sun. Like everything, like everyone, your story will be impossible to see, almost impossible to hear, but so ready to be felt. I do not believe that I would like to be deaf, but I have wished to be blind. What is it that we are so vain to think we need to see what is around us? I can feel water or oil in my hands, and know the difference, my eyes merely confirm it.

Felix sit annus novus

AGH <--I'm not sure what sound that is, but just label it as a "grunt of frustration". Whomever reads my blogs has quite some patience, because more than half of the time I sound like a babbling idiot. I don't know where I'm going with these blogs, and if I started off knowing, I end up somewhere on the far, far, left. I need friends... Scratch that, I need a hobby. Recently, I've taken to running and it's proving to be quite consoling. If I could sum up what my brain goes through on a daily basis, doing daily insignificant task, I would compare it to what the rest of my body goes through when I run. Considering I am extremely out of shape, I find myself out of breath from merely 10 minutes of consistent jogging, and getting my breath back? Well, that's nearly impossible. Eeating right, check, working out, check, the ddiscipline to keep it up....uhhhh...

Happy New Year, everyone! How exciting to have arrived in this clean slate...not. I don't understand every one's obsession with "new years" and "resolutions", it's completely preposterous to think that this year is actually that much different than the last ( besides the fact that two years from now the world shall end and all will be futile and lost forever). This brings me back to the age old question of time, what is time? And how is it that we can accurately measure it? Does it exist? And if it does, is it really relevant? Etc, Etc.

How nonsensical, to think that the 1st of January actually excuses you from the previous months of fatuous behavior. It does not. And realistically, you'll go through this year trying to make it so different from the last, that it's as if last year was just yesterday, so you've therefore carried it into your "so-called" clean slate.

Hmm, but really, if I am to have a 'resolution', it will be to work on my negativity...it's not very becoming.

Surely 2010 will be more forgiving than 2009? After all, it probably couldn't be much worse than what 2012 (the movie, that is).

Your love is king.

Its interesting feeling to feel guilty about your feelings. You know? When the emotions you have are not the ones meant for the given circumstances or situation, but that's what makes raw emotion so invigorating. I know what people expect of me, but I wouldn't be myself if I didn't go left field...not out of spite of course, just shear indecisiveness. Good thing I have a sense of humor, otherwise I would have already lost it. If you know me well enough to spend actual time with me, you'll know that I have a horrible habit of spacing out. I can't control it and as hard as I try to hide it, its a very obvious occurrence. Forgive me in advance.

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Full to the tip, I am walking the thin line between sanity and the abyss. All of the thoughts fill my head, congesting my chest, suffocating my heart. Relative, are the words tumbling from my lips. What makes us young will be our pain when we're old. I find a clover, with no leaves, with no roots, underneath my pillow. Can we symbolize ourselves? I want to sink into you. Deeply. Completely. Until I no longer have eyes, until I no longer hear sound, until I decompose. When I find hell, I'll know that paradise exists. But this isn't hell. No. This is that place in the grocery store that no one really goes to. Where it's dusty and lonely, because the merchandise perched on the shelves is unfavorable and almost useless. Maybe I'll find you here, but I would more likely find you in the frozen food section. Steady is the ground underneath my feet. Heavy is the sky above me. I forgot why I came here.

I am weary of the world.

There are few things in your life worth remembering, that may not mean you won't remember the meaningless moments. Even the moments that seem to hold emotional value mean nothing. Nothing at all. One truth, one comment, one moment later, can shatter it all.
One might feel philosophically gifted and graced with peace of mind, but in actuality humans are lagging most in basic logic. You don't believe me? Look around you. Half of the issues in the world would fade had we been blessed with common sense during 'evolution'. You think not?

Tell a drug addict to stop doing drugs, he goes on to tell you that an addiction is a mental condition and he can't just stop. However, why the hell did he start in the first place? We've all seen the "Live Above the Influence" commercials. You might think that it's a lot more complicated than that, you may be sympathetic towards the addict for whatever reason. Nevertheless, let me remind you of the age old' mind over matter deal, it was a choice to become an addict and simple common sense could have altered it all.
Life is a general choice, every single breath, a choice, every morning you wake, a choice.
I wonder if I make people think, or if I just sound ridiculous reiterating what one may already be aware of....who cares, eh? This is my addiction, my philosophical therapy.

Leaving it alone, for good.

With everything that life is, the one thing it is not and has never claimed to be is fair...maybe that's for the best.

Indentity crisis.

With an Arab father and a black&white mother, you'd think I would know exactly who to identify with, right? Can you feel my sarcasm? I thought so.
Frankly, I don't want to identify with any of that, so from now on I'm just a gypsy...because I am thoroughly confused.