Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Now.

You are nothing special.

You are everything special.

We are all beautifully crafted creatures, all out to be what the mold feels is good of us.

For us.

As scientists try to clone us, try to make us live longer, make us drive faster, make us our own personal tracking devices; we are losing what we are organically.

Constantly told to not do this, but instead do that.

We're told to eat differently, that we're all corporate scum, that we are all a part of the system.

We all should branch. Our own personal Jesus. Create our rules.

There are no sins. There are no sins.

You own what consumes you. You own even this idea, and it consumes you.

An opinionated, illuminated threshold.

You can contemplate every single philosophical piece of logic, but you are still a piece of shit.

We are all life in the present.

Stop thinking about yesterday, or tomorrow. There are no hours. There are no minutes. There is the sun.

Go to sleep, then wake the fuck up.

We are all terrified that we will miss something. No matter who you are, you are terrified to die. To not exist.

Stop talking about how you love make-up. Stop talking about how you hate make-up.
Stop talking about how shitty your life is when you made your decisions.
Stop talking about living a certain way, and then not doing what you want to live by.
Do not take any of this into consideration for your own personal ideals.

Make your own fucking belief system.

Be the beautiful nothing that society has created.

Start a fight, beat yourself up, spread your words through paint across the walls.

You've created now your own personal revolution.

Don't you dare forget to dance.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Billie Jean is not my lover.

I was thinking today, just a few hours ago, how I feel as if a lot of people, actually everyone has a pseudo security blanket. I was then intrigued to know which was my own. I toiled in my mind to figure out what keeps myself sane. I have decided that my hair is my security blanket. I create new versions of myself very often. I do not want to ever look the same, because being the same for too long absolutely terrifies me. Change is good. Having shaved my mohawk back in completely with barely any hair on the sides, I feel as if I may just completely get rid of that security blanket. I feel as if I need to take my hair completely off. Yes, that completely scares the shit out of me, and I'd probably cry if I were to do the action. But what if I need it? What if I need to break from being able to completely conceal myself from different varieties of expression and change? I suppose that shaving all of my hair off would in fact be a large change, but the idea would not be the same kind of change that of my initial security blanket problem.

Or maybe I just have an extreme sick obsession with destroying something beautiful. So many compliments to my hair, no matter what I do with it. Maybe I just want to strip people of that. Maybe I want to destroy my own ability to create myself anew.

Or possibly it's a subconscious spiritual matter. I feel as if I need to go back to how I was created. Completely innocent. Completely naked and irritable. Confused. Back to Earth, instead of within this capitalistic Hell that we all need to fit the mold.













I need to be pushed into reality.