2-27-00
"Not one day goes by that I don't compromise your love for the cold love of the world" (VAST)
I wrote a journal entry for today. Then I saved it and kept it on my computer. I'm glad that I made that decision. It's the best one I've made in weeks.
2-23-00
I had this profound thought a while ago, and I wanted to elucidate upon it tonight, but it has since failed me. Ah well.
I do curl myself into a ball a lot, I've realized. When I'm talking on ICQ or writing these journal entries, sometimes I sit with my head resting on my knee, my knee bent all up. I dunno why. No one is here to give me sympathy, so it's not like I'm wanting for attention. I just do it. Natural thing for me to make myself into as small a ball of flesh as possible. *shrugs* whatcha gonna do?
2-22-00
Today I learned a lot of stuff about God and about learning and about memory. Interesting day of illumination in my philosophy courses. I was pretty pleased. Well I don't know if I believe it all but that's irrelevant really. It was interesting as all bloody hell and my head is reeling with information. Course, I don't talk about it 'cept on here. Dunno why.
2-21-00
Someone tell me...did I ever work these words into a poem?
hyperactive apathetic closet suicidal
I can't remember.
2-20-00
I done good. I finished my paper. I done good. *smiles*
2-19-00
I'm listening to too much Tool tonight! So much Toolish goodness...that's not really possible, I guess. Don't cry, or feel too down. Not all martyrs see divinity, but at least you tried.
People...take...themselves...too...seriously. Perhaps I'm the most guilty of this. Who knows? I try not to, but to tell you the truth, I am only me. Who else can I take seriously?
Scribed for you tonight, care of me listening to the bloody song, is the lyrics to Flood (by Tool, of course). This is how I hear the song, inspired of course by the lyrics on tdn. Bloody good song.
Flood (Tool)
All I knew
All I believed
Crumbling images
No longer comfort me
Scrambled to
Reach higher ground
Some order and sanity
Something to comfort me
Take what is mine
Hold what is mine
Suffocate what is mine
Bury what's mine
Soon the water will come
And claim what is mine
I must leave it behind
And climb to a new place now
This ground is not the rock I
Thought it to be
Thought I was high
Thought I was free
Thought I was there
Divine destiny
I was wrong
This changes everything
(running away, running away, i'm running away, running away)
Take what is mine
Hold what is mine
Suffocate what is mine
Bury what's mine
Soon the water will come
And claim what is mine
I must leave it behind
And climb to a new place now
Water's rising up on me
Thought the sun would come deliver me
But the truth has come to punish me instead
(dying)
Ground - breaks - down - right under me
Cleanse - and - purge - me in the water
2-18-00
Well here's a poem. I'm putting it here because this is as good a place as any. It'll go right along with The Goddess on my New Materials page, whenever I post it there (maybe I'll do it tonight). I think you'll understand why it goes along with it after you've read it.
The Demon
There's a demon that latches itself to my spine.
I am plagued by him sometimes when I'd rather be doing something else.
He calls himself Poetry and tends to ramble, overanalyzing trivial matters.
He rips at my soul,
Tears at my thoughts,
Rends my emotions,
Shreds my hopes,
Ruptures my fears.
He plucks at my eyes, eviscerating my visions.
Savagely, he defiles my ethics.
When he has had his way with me, I am left vacant,
I am left empty,
Vacuous,
Deserted.
I am left but a shell,
With words.
2-17-00
Binge and purge. Binge and purge. Binge and purge. I have spent the last several years binging, you see folks? All of the stuff in my life, just taking it in. Slowly I gain these copious amounts of weight, I become saturated with it, and I feel this incredible need. And then..this idea. Poetry. But bah! Poetry is no good for one who has taken in this much stuff. TOO MUCH STUFF. So I continue to take it in, building up. I write poetry that I don't even feel sometimes, poetry for others, someone else's soul that has been freed from me finally. And then I moved on, poetry wasn't enough. This role playing club, the quest for glory club. I kill something with a character that represents me, and suddenly I've purged something. But even that is only a little bit of the sheer amount of stuff gone. And then this journal idea, a bit of stuff that I can vomit out for you every day. And sometimes it helps a lot, and sometimes it doesn't.
I am the strong one. Right? I'm supposed to be the strong one. Right?
You think I can talk this shit out?!? Are you out of your mind?!? When you ask me, "What are you thinking, Adam? What's on your mind," do you have any idea how complicated that question actually is? You think..you think that people can fall in love, that people can be wonderful for each other and be happy together for all their lives until they die. Well I think so too. But it ain't for me. I can't purge. I just keep filling up. It just keeps filling up.
2-16-00
There's a funny feeling in m'head that occurs every so now and then. I dunno, there's no real word for it..but there's a verb. Missing. When you miss someone, that's about the only way to describe it. It's an emotion but there ain't no word for it. Missingness. ;)
There ain't no time like the present. That's cause..there ain't no time but the present. Literally. Whee! Heheheheh
Here's a thought I had today, while walking around campus. I know no one! I have very few friends at school here. The ones I have are great but like..I know no one. And I ain't complaining, cause it's not as if I'm going out of my way to make friends but...let's think about some other people who have tons of friends and are still unhappy. So they think they need to go out and make more friends and maybe one of those friends they can become even closer with and become boyfriend/girlfriend and then they will be happy. But shit man, I'm happy and I don't even really have very many friends at all. So I guess that philosophy ain't right. That's not what makes one happy.
No now I'm pissed. There needs to be a word. When I hate someone, I am experiencing hate. When I love someone, I am experiencing love. When I fear someone, I am experiencing fear. When I dislike someone, I am experiencing dislike. When I miss someone, I am experiencing...well, I'm not experiencing miss! I am experiencing..lack of being in the presence of..nah that's too long. I am experiencing..nauseau. Nope. I am experiencing..longing is definitely not right.
Stupid english.
2-15-00
I got nothin' to say. So there. :)
"Shop smart. Shop S-Mart."
You know..sometimes..sometimes people just..are very interesting.
2-14-00
Valentine's Day is a great day. So many people spend Valentine's Day miserable, depressed over the fact that they are not in love, or if they are that they are not with their loved one, or that they do not have someone, or that other people do and they do not. Hey, I have no one to spend Valentine's Day with. But I think of Valentine's Day as a celebration of love, not a celebration of being in love. Think of all of those people that you love. Think of your family and your friends, your pets and your feelings. There are so many things in life that you love and you don't even know it. Love is everywhere, everything. You don't have to be in love to appreciate love. Life is love.
2-13-00
I have to tell myself every day that I'm not a saint. I want to help so many people who are in so much pain, I feel so much responsibility for them. I want to make them feel better and I try so hard and I just know that I'm not doing enough, but as long as I tell myself that..that I'm no fuckin' saint..it's okay. It's not my fault. I am doing my best, right? Even if I fail and even if someone gets pissed at me it's not really my fault. I'm just a normal guy who people can trust, and that's the greatest thing in the world, and when I fail, it's not my fault, cause I'm not a fuckin' saint.
2-11-00
I'm no fuckin' saint.
I don't love to hear my own voice, despite opinions to the contrary. I speak..I write these words..I say all these things..and I don't love to hear my own voice at all. It's through no vainglory that I might go off on a tangent and do things. In fact, my motives are very confusing at times. I don't fully understand them myself, I'd have to say. (I don't know what I am I don't know where I've been human junk just words and so much skin stick my hands through the cage of this endless routine just some flesh caught in this big broken machine) People, you don't know who I am. Do you have a damn clue who I am? Is anybody listening?
What am I here for? What am I doing this for? Am I doing this for me or for you? You who are supposedly reading this..you who are supposedly enjoying it and getting something out of it. Ha. I write this for me. I write it in the hopes that you'll read it and suddenly understand something. Look around you! For the love of God, man, the world is beautiful. Watch American Beauty and listen to what he says, cause that's me, and I'll paraphrase.....sometimes there's so much beauty that my heart fills up and I feel like I'm going to explode and I can't take it anymore and then I just have to relax and breath.....
I'm no fuckin' saint.
2-10-00
I cannot imagine how horrible it must be to be so young that you cannot express yourself in any way whatsoever. I cannot imagine this. I find myself frustrated beyond belief when I cannot find a word when I need it. I find it frustrating beyond control when I cannot say something just so in my conversations. Can you imagine, can you really imagine if you were to try and converse with peoples who not only couldn't understand you, but that you couldn't understand? Not a difficulty wording things correctly, but a lack of words altogether? This is a horrible, horrible fearful thing..
I cannot remember my childhood, and yet I believe. I don't know who I was then, or how I acted, but my mother tells me, and my father tells me, and my grandmother tells me, and so I believe. I don't know what I did then, and yet I believe that I did things. I know that I was a kid. My mother tells me that I was smart. I believe these things. I believe them because I cannot remember myself, and others tell me.
When you walk away from me like you do, I don't know where you've gone. I don't know where you go. I don't know what you do. I miss you when you're gone. And when you come back and I'm excited and you tell me your stories, I believe you. You tell me your stories of where you've been and I trust you, I believe with all of my being that you've been where you said you were. I believe these things even though I myself did not experience them. I believe in things that I did not see.
I open up my books and I read them. I hear the words, in my mind, as my mental voice reads them out to me. I hear Aristotle and Plato and Augustine and Hobbes. They speak to me. I know that at one point in time they all sat down with pen and paper and scribed the words that, more or less, I am reading now. I believe this, I know this, even though some of them wrote these things thousands of years before I was born. The book says that it happened, so I believe it. I believe these things that I did not experience.
I listen to CDs. They are beautiful. The vibrations of the speakers..sound waves..entering my ears..stimulating my little ear bone things..and then I get these noises in my head and it translates into beauty. And yet somewhere in there is the idea that someone wrote this music, performed this music. Hey, this guy actually had to sit down at a microphone and sing in order for me to hear this. I wasn't there. I don't know that it happened. And yet I believe that it did.
I am told of this God. This God, who created the Earth, and created man, and who created the beasts of the earth, and who created the universe, and science, and foods, and molecules, and computers, and tea. This God, who is infinite and universal. This God, Good and Evil, wonderful and sublime, terrifying and majestic. This God, who I cannot see and cannot comprehend. And that I cannot believe. Why do I pick and choose? Why do we all pick and choose? What is real, what is not? Does it even matter? *sighs* This is the closest you will all see me come to a religious confusion for a long time folks. Relish it.
2-8-00
Some people, I have noticed, take things a bit too seriously and get a bit too worried when things happen. You know, sometimes things just are. Sometimes things just happen. Sometimes things are just okay. It's alright to not analyze some stuff that happens in your life. Once it's done and gone, often times there's no point in dwelling upon it. Yes, sometimes it's important to make sure that you have an understanding of what has happened in the past. Yes, sometimes it's necessary to re-evaluate where you are going. But if every waking moment of your life is spent in the pursuit of these things, then not only are you living in the past, I have a hard time believing that you are living at all. You can't walk backwards all the time. You're moving forward. Might as well face that way, too.
2-7-00
I drank more water today than a bloody fish drinks in the ocean.. Okay maybe not that one. And that was a totally unrelated thought to anything else.
Umm...think profound Adam. What can you tell these people that they haven't heard yet? What can you say that will interest them? That's what they're hear for..to hear something profound. They don't want to hear you babbling, Adam. They want to hear something neat.
Well, here's the profound thought of the day. I really like snow. Just seeing it, just being outside in it, makes me happy. I really like green green grass, too. Just being outside in it makes me happy. What makes me unhappy? Concrete and mud. So if I've got snow or grass, I'm good to go! Mud and concrete, much less so..
2-6-00
Hmm..well today was an interesting day. For the first day in..oh, weeks, I was in a definitely less than good mood. I really don't know why..that's just it, there wasn't a reason. Quite simply, I wasn't happy. So I wandered around blindly, reacting instead of acting, feeling instead of knowing. I dunno, I just really had a weird day. Then I read about 21 issues of the New Warriors. My day, wonderfully enough, improved.
Unfortunately, this means that I didn't get any of the stuff I was supposed to get done today done. This also means that this week will suck a lot more for me than it could have. Ah well. What am I gonna do, whine about it? Nope. Just accept it..I fucked up and now I have to pay for it, and I will. My test on Tuesday I should do alright on, but the rest is going to be real rough. Hopefully this'll be the last you hear of it (at least in a negative sense. If I do real good, I'm sure you'll hear about it again!).
I think I should point something out. Life is great, even if some situations suck. Now that I've said that, I can go.
2-3-00
HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a goat. He ate a lot of things, mostly plants you know, cause he was a goat. Then there was this wolf. The wolf ate a lot of goats, you know, cause he was a goat. Well, the wolf met the goat and they struck up a conversation, speaking of the weather and the particular strange flowery scent that was carried along with the wind that day. The wolf seemed to think it had a petunia type smell to it, while the goat was thinking more along the daffodil line. Well, needless to say, such metaphysical arguments become heated fast, and soon the two strangers were exchanging some harsh language. The wolf remarked upon the lack of intelligence in the vegetarian fool of a goat, and the goat remarked upon the wolf's brutish nature. The wolf made fun of the goat's haircut; the goat said that the wolf's sense of smell was like a bloody human's. The wolf asking for it; the goat called his bluff and said 'yeah? well bring it on!'
I think everyone knows what happened next..I'd hope it was pretty obvious from the beginning..
That's right, the goat took out his 9mm and capped the wolf in the head. He fell dead on the spot, a blank expression on his face. His last thought was 'Do I even know what a daffodil smells like?'
I suppose the moral of this story should be quite simple. Arguments over the wind and daffodils are foolish and lead to foolish results. Goats with guns are bad. Wolves and goats don't mix. And most importantly..let's keep this one in mind folks..
Don't make fun of a goat's haircut.
2-2-00
Whee!! I love when people compliment my stuff. I may be a vain person because of it, but I don't care! It makes me happy. "I was fairly impressed by your poems - you write very honestly; thats really refreshing to see." Whee!! Thank you!!!
Pascal once said: "We are so vain that the esteem of five or six people who are close to us is enough to give us pleasure and happiness." You're damn right, Pascal! Not only does the esteem of five or six close people give me pleasure and happiness, but the esteem of myself gives me pleasure and happiness! My self-esteem, knowing myself and being proud of myself, man, that's where all the real happiness comes from. So hell yes I'm vain and I don't care what you think, Pascal! Just cause you're a big ole philosopher and physicist... *silence for a moment* Okay maybe I care a little bit. ;)
I think some people have misunderstood me when I was talking about unhappiness and happiness. Some people (more than one) have talked to me about how you need to be unhappy sometimes to know when you are happy. I disagree! I know what it is to be alive, I appreciate and enjoy it, and I've never been dead. Another thing, when I'm experiencing pleasure, say something that tastes really good or feels really good, I do not actively compare that to something that hurts really bad. I do not need to experience pain to understand pleasure. I do not actively compare my moments of happiness to my moments of unhappiness, so I see no need to conclude that I need unhappiness to understand happiness. Another example, I understand what it is like to love but I don't have to understand what it is like to hate in order to feel that. Okay I'm done with this ramble. I don't think it really helped. Yay!!
2-1-00
Well, tonight was..interesting. Everything seems to have come to a peak tonight. All sorts of issues were resolved or opened or expanded upon. Such is the way of things sometimes, some nights, everything that can possibly happen does.
I'm sorry, everyone, if sometimes I'm not as sympathetic or nice as you'd like me to be. I honestly don't know what to say about that, and I apologize.
I'm sorry, everyone, if sometimes I don't know what is right and what is wrong. And I'm sorry if I do things the wrong way. I'm especially sorry if sometimes I seem like I'm trying to tell people that they 'are' a certain way, or that they 'think' a certain way. I don't mean to. I really don't.
So often lately I've been so incredibly happy. Tonight I'm just not. Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow, my friends, will be a wonderful day, I know it.
