Something is a bubbalin behind my back

So the contrast tighten and constrict. What Kind of man do i want to be? A voice, a megaphone, a sound, a conscience? I dont know. I feel as if i were living in a life that consist of only parallels. One direction takes me in a desirable yet contrasting direction. I must give up entirely on one to achieve the other. That might just be the way things are tho;Find a love, marry a wife but give up on the countless number of attractive and unique women. Doctor to save lives, Cop to prevent the need to save. Why choose one over the other, how do you? Obviously these are terrible examples maybe not but how do you choose? Do you measure the amount of regret each choice would take, the fulfillment they might cause, they emptiness they could inevitably never fill? Is it a lesser of evils? Should it not be a choice of the greater good?

But when has the greater good every been that much better for man?

I do enjoy archie(Jimmy), And for some reason i like, almost sympathize with Rumple,Gold.

Fallen and Attached

Your Voice so strong, speaks words so weak.
So empty and without sound.
Not even a breeze
to stir the leaves.
Fallen and attached

Incredibly close
to being real
How many words
can i write about you
Given a form
A love ill share

In the caves
we shave
our heads.
To let ourselves
breath


Alot of time has been spent recently filling out college application's and writing their essays. Its been a semi pain in the butt, but rather enjoyable over all. In the pursuit of originality its far easier to be a phony then you might think. I can take on this air of superiority when i havent a clue as to what im talking about. If i make enough vague statements they might think im intelligent. When you talk to someone that'll work, Say enough strange things fast enough, and they'll go, "Wow..i dont know what you mean," People mistake their ignorance or your "knowledge" for Wisdom so they must be dumber, BUT REALLY YOUR JUST SHOOT ASS AIR OUT OF YOUR MOUTH! and no one see's that...maybe they do. So often that can happen to me, Someone says something strange that really doesnt make sense, then when im a bit confused they suddenly get some sort of complex about it.How in the world can you NOT understand what im saying? Doesnt everyone think this way?"no..." Oh well i guess im just crazy then huh? NO! phony. I dont understand everyones constant need to feel that they require a psych ward.. No fun. Thats like wanting to go to the hospital...THAT is wanting to go to the hospital, but for your emotional brain and stuff.

I promised to wife and children,

I have everything to not say, I dont enjoy this. I feel similar to that which i dont like.Even that last statement makes me feel hipocritical but it helps a little bit so ill let it fester for the time being. It seems so soothing to mix the gin. You might think that there should be a holiday post, but there hasnt really been a holiday to right about. I havent thought about the "real" reason for the season, because i dont even feel a season to feel real for, im just doing things for nostalgia's sake, Even typing right now feels fake. But im going to just try anyways. Ive been thinking about what. And what its meaning really is. What is a question but an answer. Its a intense word, What and why and who, i think are the most important questions that can be asked in the pursuit of truth.

Christmas came and went same as last year and suddenly the climax has passed with barely a shutter of pleasure. Sure gifts are great, but they feel empty without the glow. Dont you feel we dont know x is who and why is what. People are math, because we each are long awaited and formulated outcomes of our logic. A groove and rut we dig deep enough into our brains. A way of doing that becomes set, if you know what the rut someone is working in is it safe to say one could accurately guess the outcome of any question or action posed to them?

Phony. EveryBody is. Everyone complains about it. But we are phony, im phony. Why what who

Dont tell me what im thinking. But i know

Change is progress, Change is regression. Change is the personification,the physical evidence of the advancements we have made Internally. Be it our mannerisms, the process by which we think and reason, our use of logic. Even our emotions and their stability may have changed. BUT ALL IS FALSE.

Change does not mean progress. Can it? Yes on occasions it can. But sometimes change is the way to mask and cover up one's lack of progress. A child is a child through and through with a sweet and honest tongue. That child may grow into a teen and suddenly cuss religiously and dress like a mad cracked fool. But inside there still the confused and uncertain child, lost and angry at the world they were born into. They have changed but they have not progressed. That same teen child, may turn into an adult. It no longer drinks bud lights or jungle juice but aged scotch and martini's. It has never really enjoyed the taste of either, but it is what adults do, It still is confused and angry. Life has not given all that it has promised to it, it hates its boring job and its idiot of a boss. Change, but again no progress.

dont be fooled, Progress is not always change. Lack of change does not mean a lack of progress.

i was asked to write something, i dont want to, but for that very reason i lll write something, This hotel that my aunt owns has a very small and cozy library. Its on the second floor, its one of the two rooms located on the second floor, the third floor has six. Its located at the bend of the staircase.

I thought maybe before the night was over i would wander in there with my laptop and right out a significant blog,but i dont want to. Im not one for writing in cozy places. i dont even like blogging anymore. Why did i start it in the first place? because people i knew did it and i thought hey, why not. It seems strange that so many people who claim to be quite, spend copious amounts of time typing out all sorts of things. your not quite at all. People just make noise in different ways, thats all it is tho isnt it? Just noise, were all making some sort of noise that is adding to the mix of the world, the white noise. So what does it take for a sound to "cut thru the mix"?

Where's the boost pedal to shout my voice? Fame? infamy?
Where's the distortion to cut and clip my original sound or intention?
Who is going to repeat the sounds i make? let them rebound

It was a relativly good thanks giving, No macy's day parade, i dont know the channels here. I watched in time, its an interesting concept, seems to be just an amplified version of whats really happening. Watched some lie to me, really do enjoy that show. British people man.
Just because you know something, does that make you smarter then someone who does not?


were just dinasaurs, each and everyone. Waiting and predicting our own extinction. Im up here in the clouds but they wont let me come down, They broke my later, jacobs' building hindsight to fix us all, like a pyro burning down the tree to touch my fluff.

but my pillow, my pillow is flame proof, Hold still it wont smother me. It builds me up it builds me up it builds me up, so i wont see im full of it. Take me down, break my castles now, With our big dinasaur feet crush it small. the camera smiles, he loves it.

viral were gonna see the world only as we take it down, turn on the lights to cover up the glue, show off the cracks, our seams are true.

Buried

i think everyone has something, hidden or buried, they can barely keep down. Something they feel at any moment could erupt like a poisonous cloud and cover there whole life. A skinny girl you can see, see how thin and pretty she is but for some reason you just know she will one day get grotesqley and dispaportionatly obese. The quite kid who sits and just watches, yet you see the sinking lines that have slowly etched their way into a permanent mark on his face. He fears he might just erupt into a ball of angry fire, that hits and shouts, just like his dad. They fear, the anything really is stuffed down inside of us so deep, we hope it wont ever show its face, but it will, it does. Everyone one has something good or bad, that is stuffed inside of them.

What do i choose to do with mine? i want to stuff down many but bring to light a few.

Too
few
brew
eww
flew
stew

How strange it is that people cant find the attention span, or the will, to listen to six minutes of just peace. A song with no lyrics that evoke such a strong feeling of..calm. It may not be a song that deals with the wrong doings of society or shouts words of hate upon a failing political system. But for just those six minutes, you can feel a brief reprise, be taken to an entirely different mind set, one without words. Its like being taken thru your own flash back of moments, happy or sad they are distant so they do not feel keen, rather a hazy feeling of remembrance.

Its been such a strange day today, found of some shocking things. Came to realize i hold double standards. But it ended in a good note, so there is no reason to re-hash old feelings of discomfort when i am no longer uncomfortable. That is honestly not to say that you should forget everything that is hard to deal with, but ive come to grips with it and am no longer so directly upset by it. So ill just let it be, because it has been done and is over. To live in the past is to have died.

look into the air

-ian