After reading a few livejournals, all I can do is laugh and ask the question:
karma is a bitch, isn't it?


You get what you give, and things are finally coming back to bite a few incredibly useless individuals in the ass.

Whine all you want, but you couldn't have expected all the bullshit you have done to not come back on you.


Good luck, you've got hell coming to you.

I'm at my computer crying for no reason.
Worrying about things that have yet to happen.
I'm no longer okay.

I guess It's time to start my medicine again.
It's a shame.

So after a close examination of my life, I find myself wondering;


WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING?

I want to live an Avett Brothers song (a good one) and I'm afraid that that will never happen. It's a perfectly reasonable request. I keep getting pushed away, and that sinks me ever deeper into this bottomless black pit (think house of leaves, even though that book was no good). You may think you're doing right by not talking to me, but in reality it just makes me feel even more isolated.

I may not be much of a writer, but I'm one with words. Please talk. In life.

I want the beaches and the mountains, the rivers, the love letters, and everything that goes with it.
Figuratively or really.
Please.
I'm shrinking and shrinking, and dear god, I don't want to lose my heart and, more importantly my soul.

I'm moving back to Greensboro.
I have a job.
An awesome boy.
And a house.
I'm loving life right now.

Crazy, sporadic bullshit.
I may be strange, but at least I'm not a cunt.
An attention hungry, idiotic one at that.
I know that this is opening me up to all kinds of super rad comments about my personality, however, as my workplace training video puts it, "save the bandwith, brah."
And stop being fifteen.
For christ's sake, we're all supposed to be young adults, it's time to start acting like it.
Although I guess some never outgrow high school.
Better yet elementary school when your "best friend" steals your cot any you don't talk to them again for let's say, five years.
Except now it's your coke!

This world is ending.
Let's have fun.

I can tell that I'm approaching a point in my life when livejournal becomes a sort of refuge. I can't really say if this is a regression or not.
I have never felt the urge to move, write,to do anything so strongly in my life.
When I sit still I get this overwhelming feeling. I have to move. I will explode.
I wish that my thoughts made more sense. I wish that I could vocalize things.
I wish that the only way to express myself wasn't through emotion.
It takes far too long and too much effort on the part of normal people to read into emotions.
There are not enough english words to express feelings.
I don't really understand how one can even begin to word feelings.
Why is it okay to put one generic label on something as expansive as a feeling?
Is one person's happy another person's happy?
If something is ever changing, how is it possible to assign it a strict meaning?
The word could never even begin to encompass feelings of joy.
But what is joy?
Just another word.
Another word that is too simple.
It's all circular.

Words logically should only apply to the absolute. And nothing is absolute.
Humanity is so complex, yet we have lost touch with feeling. To the point where it's impossible to even know what one is feeling, let alone vocalize it.
And on top of that, if you are feeling something, take depression, for example, it is very rarely coming from ones self. If outside forces influence feelings, from one minute to the next, are we ever truly feeling an emotion that is ours?
This is just writing. These are just incoherent thoughts that are pouring out for really no reason. This doesn't mean anything, nor has it ever. In the scheme of things no thought that one has ever really matters. They are fleeting and forgotten in a moment, the result of stimuli.
Or is it all just circumstance?
Is anyone ever their own person?
How is it possible when people are so connected?
I don't even know what this means.
It will fade.
I will fade.
This doesn't make any sense.

I want to get lost in a good book.
I want to get lost in someone's eyes.
I want to get lost.

I only find comfort in the superficial, and the superficial is always fleeting.

You can burn in hell.

With monumental failure, comes monumental fame.

Be real.

RIP Heath.

Note to the weather:

If you can't do enough to make life stop, stop doing.
If I have to go to class I don't want to have to scrape my windshield off with an old victory records compilation.

It's really weird how things can be great one day and just go straight to shit.

School and work are combining to kick my ass. Suprisingly, though, I haven't completely lost my mind. Although this week is going to be trying. I have a test and a quiz tomorrow, and I'm working tonight so it should be fun finding time to study. I saw cirque du soleil yesterday with my mom and had a lot of fun. It's nice having box seats. You get your own bathroom.

I hope everyone else is having an easier time of it than I am.
I'm tired of being responsible. Already.

I'm sinking again.

Something is wrong.

I'm moving into an apartment on Walker (again) this week with Anna.
It's strange, I've only been living at home for about a month, but I guess things happen in their own time.
I'm excited, we've been painting and even though it was awful, our rooms look nice.
I really earned my money at work today, it was awful.
I also think I'll be going to Arizona/california the week after next.
Should be exciting!

This is all stuff I want, more of a list so that I can keep up with it so that I'll know what to buy when I get a job.
I also want to go to the zoo.

I've been in Atlanta for the past few days and I feel so out of touch with reality.
I've been sleeping at least 12 hours day, and even I hate being this lazy.
I would say it's a well deserved rest, but school wasn't overly trying this semester and while exams were a pain in the ass, they weren't killer.
I have to find a job and all I want to do with that money is buy sandals.
Every single pair from the pages of Urban, and it's odd. I don't even like sandals.
I'll be coming home Wednesday, and I can't wait to go to the beach.
I'll be moving home when I get back, goodbye to my apartment where I've lived for two years, hello home.
There's really no point in this entry other than to take up time while Jon is in school.
Hopefully he'll be done with school work tonight and we can have a quasi date night tomorrow before I leave.