RANDOM.THOUGHTS.INCURRED.

Haven't done this in a while:


The sunlight peers through my rear view mirror and shines brightly in to my eyes. My eyes squint to filter out the light, much the same way my heart squints to try and salvage every last drop of love that might possibly exist within. Contemporaries are perhaps what I feel like the most. If even at all. Perhaps I am old-fashioned, and thus suffer because of it. I convince myself to hate myself, then convince myself back again. I look at the bright sides of situations, to avoid looking at the dark. I have two halves like every person, and am often fighting to see which one will reveal itself. My dark half has convinced myself that my life is not worth living, to the point where I wanted it to end. It convinced me that I shouldn't write anymore. I almost thought about making a message to you all saying how I was going to stop. My dark half wonders if anyone would have cared.

My light half peeks through once I am beyond the point of no return. Once I've gone beyond the point where I don't want to live, there's always a speck of light to save me. My inspiration is greatly derived from others, and thus any form of seclusion torments me. Sadly those who inspire me are miles away, and not in my backyard, so to speak. My life has become a constant effort to search these people out, and discover them. Then my next step is to indulge myself in them, and allow them to show me things I have yet to see in life. Perhaps it is love, perhaps it is friendship, perhaps it is a rivalry, or perhaps it is something else. I try not to look for any one in particular, although as everyone knows -that- battle is far from easy.

Perhaps you don't understand any of this. Maybe you're shocked to hear all of this (though I doubt it). Maybe you like reading what kind of person I am, since I'm usually just either goofy or quiet. But when do you get to see the serious me? When do you get to see the me that has fallen for something and is in so deep the only thing I can hope but do is try to go deeper? Where is that person? Right here, which is why I say I haven't done this in a while.

I write things or do things then look back on them later and think they were really stupid. Is that normal? I think it is, but I'm not sure. Like there's things that I'll have written that I hate so much I go back to change/delete them. I think because I try to figure out too many things at once I become overwhelmed and a bit confused. I think it is for this reason that alot of people don't understand me. Perhaps everyone feels misunderstood. If you can understand the very first poem of this blog (Butterflies), then you probably understand me. That poem is perhaps the most special poem I've ever written, because it captures everything about who I am.

I'm not a huge fan of butterflies, but I've come to convince myself that they are beautiful. They come in all sorts of pretty colors and are very attractive. They are quiet creatures and if you try and grasp one it is always one second away from your hand. They are much like dreams in that we are always chasing after them. Yet some people possess the ability to simply hold out their hand and have a butterfly land right on their finger. Do you understand the symbolism I am trying to portray in that scene of imagery? If so, then you probably understand me a little bit better. Welcome to a mind of borderline insanity and also a hint of misconstrued genius.