Existintialism on Prom night?

So, I've recently found a semi-depressing band, but they're super upbeat about it hahaha...

with lines like 'heres to all the pretty words we'll never speak, and all the pretty girls you're going to meet'

I kind of like the idea of having depressing lyrics but an upbeat song...

The basic idea of having two diffrent tones to one song is trippy indeed... like a song thats scarry and happy at the same time, energentic and slow, slow and energetic...

like an acoustic song with vocals that don't quite mash up in the way you'd expect...

Thats what I've always loved about the blues. The blues having blues.

So I worked a long day today, and it was interesting, seemed to go by in no time flat... and I kind of like that.

I have tomorrow off and more things to do than I care to think about it...

its all the good that wont come out of it.

its in all how you mix the two.

There is this line between good and bad, sweet and sour, spicy and salty...

You'll never find the perfect mixture if you're looking for it... its all about random happistance. You cannot find the answer, the answer is the question,and the question?  the question is the road you take to find the answer.

My words are fading from my mind faster than I can leave them on this blank parchment, sending them scrolling across the screen and flying off into the infintismial abyss of the world wide web.

I feel like wasting my time is time well spent. I'd rather waste time with someone special than do the most productive things on the planet.

Sure I could cure world hunger and promote world peace, but... thats never been my style... I'd rather find infinantly bad ideas and act on them at the whim of nothing.  I'm thinking that when/if I get this new job... I'll start setting aside a fairly decent portion of each paycheck towards adventure.

I say adventure and not a destination because I won't even know what, when, or where. I'm thinking of a point on a map that doesnt exist.

note cards with ideas, mixed with dice that line up to activities. all things left to chance, perhaps thats how you find happiness in this world, let the universe decide...

As for the band?

Like a memory of what it felt like to burn.

I'm incompleate.

Everything feels numb, and hollow. Its the rush of air at your back while standing on the edge of a building. The feeling of falling when you're laying safe in bed. The crushing weight of sleep that never fully comes. Something that is fully intangeable and hard to explaine. A driving force that brings everything to the forefront. I know that the ocean is deep, but trying to understand is like trying to breathe life into a rock. Trying to grasp the sunlight. this is what I feel. This unfeelable force. This preasure all around me, baring down, burning away all that which is right and wrong and leaving a husk of driftwood, awash in a sea of emotion, under a sky of bloodred.


I know who I am. But who I am isn't what I know. I know who I was, who I can be, who I might be. I have thoughts and memories that are not mine. When I look back on my life, I wonder how much of it is really mine. Its like an episode from a favorite TV show... all the characters you know and love in a story thats all too familiar but it never feels real, and when it does, the real world feels some how less substantial.

I tried to be the one that everyone wanted me to be.
I tried to be better than what I ever could be.
I tried to be loved by everyone
Where has that gotten me?

I can feel myself ripping to pieces. I feel unsightly. I feel that the driftwood is slowly becoming smaller, sinking in this ocean of time. Washing in a sea of salt spray and tears. I am sick. I am free. I am trapped. I am lost. I am found. I am nothing. I am everything.

I seem to find myself cursing my reflection as I praise my form.

I am so terribly homesick for some one I have never known. I am miss the places I have never been. This ever changing landscape of trees, the forest cannot be seen from the mountain top. The sky obscured by the clouds. Unruffling thoughts meandering in a mind addled by loss of feeling.


I recently turned a new leaf. I reached another year of life. twenty four years and not a single accomplishment to call my own. Everything I have done I have done for others. I have never found the one thing I want. I have never found the place I feel truely myself.

5,4,3,2,1. I can feel myself burning from the inside out.
Spontanious combustion brings more warmth than dousing myself in gasoline.
Going down in flames. But enjoying the view as I fall from the top.

Fuck.
Shit.
Cock, and
Balls.
Can you drown in your own thoughts?

Can something be so good that its bad?
How quickly can medicine become poison?
Can the devil be a saint?

Only sinners can become better men.
Does that mean only angels and saints can fall?
What hope does that leave for a man of level ground?
When the worst can rise and the best can fall, is anywhere safe?
Is it safe to stay grounded?
Can that too not open up underneath someone and crumble away.


What happens when the bite is worse than the bark,
the sound doesnt scare, but the skin breaks under the teeth.
Wonton will and rages of anger that wonder endlessly.

I am a nomad, wondering in my own mind.

When I parrish, scatter my ashes on the 4 winds, into the 7 seas, and off the highest peaks.

Drink up me-hearties. Yo. Ho.