Thoughts...

1. New money smells worse than old money

2. "I'm sober now for three whole months, that's one accomplishment that you helped me with."

3. This summer is my gateway to lots of recreational reading including Atlas Shrugged, Travels with Charlie, and all those books which I'm so glad I have written down somewhere because I have now forgotten how interesting they sounded

4. "If I were to die, murdered in cold blood tomorrow, would you feel sorry, show love, or would it matter?"

5. One page down, nine to go...

Do you believe in coincidence?
Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?
The way I see it, you must believe in one or the other. If you prefer to be passive, then coincidence is the easy option. If things happen for a reason, then there must be someone/something taking responsibility for the occuance. For the sake of Christianity and my own beliefs, I will assume that God is the reason for events. If you choose to believe in another power--mother earth, the full moon, the pull of gravity, your mother--you are more than welcome to do so, but the fact still remains that intentional events must originate from an facillitator.
conversely, coincidental events originate from nothing. They are not connected in any way. They come about by random chance, which has not reason.
So then, if what I say has any truth, and if you believe in coincidence, where is hope, faith and understanding?
If events happen without reason, how can one hope for anything to improve or for life to get better?
Where does one derive faith from? Or is it merely faith in oneself? Can you have true faith in yourself, or is this a selfish and dead-end belief?
How can you make sense of the world if you do not believe in a higher power with omnicient control?


P.S. what about karma?

Eminem: Till I Collapse

Music is like magic there’s a certain feeling you get when your real
and you spit and people are feeling your shit.
This is your moment and every single minute you spend trying to hold onto it
cause you may never get it again.
So while you’re in it try to get as much shit as you can
and when your run is over just admit when its at its end.
Cause I'm at the end of my wits with half this shit that gets in.
I got a list here's the order of my list that it's in...

Peel away the layers of my skin

and you will find me

somewhere below the surface.

Below the epidermis

the dermis is laced with nerves

of high tensile wire

beneath the packages of greed

are veins, flowing with sewage.

Pull out my veins and find musle

that pushes you away

and leaves the last punch.

Below the muscle

you will find a hrad, white cage

holding in the me inside,

the me that wants to hide,

the me I keep inside.

Jewel: Foolish Games

Well in case you failed to notice,

In case you failed to see,

This is my heart bleeding before you,

This is me down on my knees, and

These foolish games are tearing me apart,

And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.

You're breaking my heart.

David Bowie/Nirvana: Man Who Sold the World

We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there, he said I was his friend
Which came as some surprise
I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone, a long long time ago
Oh no, not me
I never lost control
You're face to face
With The Man Who Sold The World
I laughed and shook his hand, and made my way back home
I searched for form and land, for years and years I roamed
I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions here
We must have died alone, a long long time ago
Who knows? not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the Man who Sold the World

I pose a question: one that has me so lost in speculation of its answer that everything else becomes minuscule and irrelevant. A question that baffles me and frustrates me to the point of helpless depression and choked tears. A question so strong in its persistence of "why?" that I can not break from it long enough to find an answer. A question which seems so foolish, so childish, so utterly useless. Yet it remains: this gnawing at my heart every time I become aware that the population must be of an odd number, because one is always left out. There is always one who can never find solace. One who will always be alone when another is most needed. And there always seems to be that one who always has someone. One left in abandon and one who is forever wanted. One who will agonize silently and one who will find comfort in another. One who will never get enough and one who has enough to spare. One who has nothing and one who has everything. Do you notice the one who looks at you with desperate eyes? Do you notice the wanting in my voice and the fire that burns my insides? Do you notice that all I want for is some recognition, some sign that you care. All that would make my day is a smile, a call, a "hello, how are you?." But the fact that I am left with this question proves that people are inherently careless and that my expectations are wasted.

Deftones: Change (In the House of Flies)

I've watched you change
Into a fly
I looked away
You were on fire
I watched a change
In you
It's like you never
Had wings
Now you feel
So Alive
I've watched you change
I took you home
Set you on the glass
I pulled off your wings
Then I laughed
I watched a change
In you
It's like you never
Had wings
Now you feel
So alive
I've watched you change
It's like you never
Had wings
I look at the cross
Then I look away
Give you the gun
Blow me away
I've watched a change
In you
It's like you never
Had wings
Now you feel
So Alive

I want you to see me dead and wonder about me. I want to stare back at you with open eyes and watch you cry my tears. I want to feel your touch when my skin is cold and rubbery. I want you to buy me flowers...would you, when I die?...and sit by my side just to listen to me not breathing. I want to know the feeling of having all of my blood drained from my veins and replaced by something cold and expensive. I want to lie in a soft dark space and be perfectly still. I want to know who would come to see me, who would cry, who would apologize and for what. I want to know what music you would play at my funeral and what you would have engraved on my headstone. I want to know the pain of death and laugh because you never knew me. I want to know the pain and dig around until I can find the joy in it.

Here
by Paul Monetta

everything extraneous has burned away
this is how burning feels in the fall
of the final year not like leaves in a blue
October but as if the skin were a paper lantern
full of trapped moths beating their fired wings
and yet I can lie on this hill just above you
a foot beside where I will lie myself
soon soon and for all the wrack and blubber
feel still how we were warriors when the
merest morning sun in the garden was a
kingdom after Room 1010 war is not at all
death it turns out war is what little
thing you hold on to refugeed and far from home
oh sweetie will you please forgive me this
that every time I opened a box of anything
Glad Bags One-A-Days KINGSIZE was
the worst I'd think will you still be here
when the box is empty Rog Rog who will
play boy with me now that I bucket with tears
through it all when I'd cling beside you sobbing
you'd shrug it off with the quietest I'm still
here I have your watch in the top drawer
which I don't dare wear yet help me please
the boxes grocery home day after day
the junk that keeps men spotless but it doesn't
matter now how long they last or I
the day has taken you with it all
there is now is burning dark the only green
is up by the grave and this little thing
of telling the hill I'm here oh I'm here

I know that you are going to judge me. I would too, if I were you and you were me. But I am here now. Not where I want to be, but it's too late now. One bad decision does not justify another, and I want to make the right decisions from here on out. I will not take the easy way out just to cover up and make my life seem seamless. I will face my mistakes and not be ashamed.
Not matter what you say.
Because your words will not hurt me.
I have people who will support me, and even if I didn't, I have a God who has not abandoned me, and who never will. I pray that I can be a better person and not abandon Him.
This may not be the life I planned for, but I will make the best of it now.
I want this now, and I will do whatever it takes. Whatever I have to do. If it's just me, then that's all I will have to lean on and I will have to accept that.
Your words will not hurt me. I will not let you break me.

"with God as my witness, I will never be hungry again"

HURT: Ten Ton Brick

A ten ton brick was making me sick
Breakin' my bones with the weight of it
The weight would grow with each new soul
Buried fine lies make big, black holes
And who am i supposed to be?
Not like you'd give a fuck about me.
But who am I supposedly?
When I'm finally done.
But I'm finally done with the decisions of my former thoughts
And all that i may have loved
Yeah, i'm finally done with the descriptional
And i don't mind sayin' i'm to blame!
When atlas slipped i lost my grip
Yet, i didn't think it could turn into this
But i was told by two sweet crows
Nobody feels what nobody knows
And who am i supposed to be?
Everything good was taken from me
And who am i supposedly?
I was overcome...
But i'm finally done with the divisions of my former thoughts
Although i may have lost
I'm finally done with the dissention now i don't mind sayin'
I don't mind sayin i'm to blame!
Oh, this ten ton brick would treat me like shit
This little piggy licked others lips
And so defined, who was i
But it won't encumber me.
'cause i'm finally done with the positions of my former thoughts
And all that it may have cost
But i'm finally done with my decisions
Love and now i don't mind sayin'
Don't mind sayin'

I am the one to blame.

Untilted

I like the words you say when you lie to me.
When you tell me that I am wrong,
that my faith holds no meaning,
that I will be good without it.
I am nothing.
If you open your eyes,
you will see.
Open your heart to the possibility,
the fact,
that I am so un-perfect.
Stop feeding the denial in your heart.
Stop believeing what is easy and for once,
entertain the idea that that life does not make sense,
that good is not always the triumphant,
and only death and failure
are certain.

by Kate Caretto

Let me ask you this- Is it worth it to wait for perfect? Is there such a thing? Will I ever find it?

What is ok to compromise on? I don't think I can compromise on what makes me who I am. My passions, my desires, my dreams, my religion; should I expect him to believe in and care about these things, or is it enough for him to tolerate?

And when everyone says that I deserve better, do I forfiet what is "good enough" to search for something better? Is it possible to find someone better?

I don't believe in perfection, I don't believe in human goodness, in the goodness of human nature. Do not tell me that my God is not sufficient, or that He asks too much of me. Do not tell me that I give too much to my God, or that I should ignore the wisdom of my God. Do not tell me where to find happimess, or where I will find fullfillment, or that you are the answer to all my problems. My problems are beyond you, because you do not understand my struggles, my insecurities, my depression. When I try to voice my heart, I am shot down by the storm of your own heart.

You have to love yourself if you ever want to love me.
You have to realize that this is not just about you,
not just about your feelings.
And if this is about eternity...
Fuck that shit.

and it pisses me off beyond belief that you will not even care enough to read this

one more thing to say-

hillary better not win

Why is it that we care so much? What makes people become in-tune with the feelings of others and have it affect us? Sometimes these feelings and emotions of others can completely take over our own emotions that result from inside ourselves. Is it good to be this concerned about others? There must come a point where it will wear a person down, but this point must come at different times for different people. Can emotional overload be compared to a glass that overflows? How much will our concerns help the target person?
And it seems like we never notice when someone cares about us. It's not like money, that can be passed between individuals as payment or a measure of worth. It is invisible, sometimes tradgically unfelt.
And then there is the point of numbness, when we no longer feel the same in response to another's pain. Where it has become an everyday occurance, or a way of life that no longer fights for our attention. When the feelings are so common and familiar.
And the same is true for the reciever of concern, when the support and care is not enough to block out the feelings anymore. The drug has become ineffective, the drink not strong enough.

There must come a point where I really don't care anymore. Where I no longer care what other people stress about, because it makes me stress out too. When I know that there really is nothing I can do. When I know to let go. To stop caring because I know it will just hurt me. When I can stand up for myself and not be brought down by guilt and feelings of failure.

How much personal feelings does the world need? Is it possible to run the world without social capital, without integrity, without debts except for those in concrete froms of measure, without love..., without trust, without sense of family or friendship, or if they exist, that they have no effect on how the world turns, without empathy or sympathy? If we say the world turns on money, there is no reason for values such as these. And it seems that people are losing the values that are not essential to life. (But what about quality of life, you ask, and they will answer; I just need a few more dollars) The road may be paved in gold, but what worth is the journey when there are no flowers (and I don't mean silk flowers) along the roadside? Where will your road of gold lead you?

The Offspring: Gone Away

Maybe in another life
I could find you there
Pulled away before your time
I can‘t deal it‘s so unfair
And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven‘s so far away
And it feels
Yeah it feels like
The world has grown cold
Now that you‘ve gone away
Leaving flowers on your grave
Show that I still care
But black roses and Hail Mary‘s
Can‘t bring back what‘s taken from me
I reach to the sky
And call out your name
And if I could trade
I would
And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven‘s so far away
And it stings
Yeah it stings now
The world is so cold
Now that you‘ve gone away

I can not believe how much my life has changed, and I keep wondering if I am the only one who notices this. Am I just spinning in one place inside of myself or do others see that I am not stationary? I am in need of good literature and time to read it. I am in need of something longer, for sure, and tangible. I am in need of no worries and I life that I can live for everyone the same. I am in need of something that will let the words form beyond the recognition of my own brain and allow me to speak them to you in all honesty and freedom.

How do I know of turning points in my life? Should I accept such sweet invitations, or are they merely sugar coated? Is there more growing up to do? When do I recognize these things and if they are true and right? The biggest problem is knowing who to believe. Deciding who is the person to follow who will lead you to the straight path. Why must people insist on what you should do if they are only looking out for themselves? Does anyone really know someone well enought to be telling them how to live their lives?

I don't think it is wrong to make choices and sacrifices in your life to better the life of someone else. I believe it is admirable to give in order for others to recieve, to not be selfish and to think of others before yourself. What I want really holds no meaning in my life. Fulfilling my desires and dreams will not make me a better person.

What is desire? What is good desire and should it be sought/satisfied?

Do certain things have meaning if you yourself do not place meaning on them?

WHY CAN'T YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING????

Traits of creative people:
1. wonder and be curious
2. be open to new experiences
3. see the familiar from an unfamiliar point of view
4. take advantage of accidental events
5. make one thing out of another by shifting its function
6. generalize from particulars in order to see broad applications
7. synthesize, integrate, find order in disorder
8. be in touch with one’s unconscious, yet be intensely conscious
9. be able to analyze and evaluate
10. know oneself, have the courage to be oneself in the face of opposition
11. be willing to take risks
12. be persistent: to work for long periods-perhaps years-in pursuit of a goal

Why?

Because I saw a part of me in you,
I part of me that I wanted to
protect and understand.
Because I wanted to please you
in every way.
I wanted for (you) to be happy;
to not hurt anymore.
Because I wanted you to love me
completely,
and more.

Because it just didn't matter anymore.
Nothing really matters anymore.

Caroline's Spine: Unreal
for Jon

I've come to feel when you're constantly changing roads
it's hard to know which way is right.
It gets a bit colder when you're down ten feet below
with no conclusions
no end in sight.
So I hold this:
we don't ever walk alone.
You can't stay here on your own.
And I know you are
the only one who can make it right
when it isn't right.
And I know you are
the only one still preoccupied
with all your "if I did" and "maybe she might."
You beg and you borrow
like some ordinary soul.
There's nothing to see here tonight.
Until tomorrow,
after all your cameos,
there's nothing to see here.
And I know this:
we don't ever walk alone.
You can't stay here.
And I know you are
the only one who will make it right
when it isn't right.
And I know you are
the only one still preoccupied
with all your "if I did" and "maybe she might."
Life is so unreal.