It isn’t mine to determine whether or not you should have hope.
Everything I’ve posted on here has ended in basically a summarization that made everything I would say turn into a motivational speech. That isn’t true to me.
But bottom line, it isn’t mine to determine whether or not you have fucking hope.
Mabe you don’t need it. I know people that don’t. They might seem like it, but they seriously don’t need it, they don’t need anything. Maybe you’re like those people. Or maybe you’re the kind of person who doesn’t care about hope. That’s good too. Or the type of person who can’t.
No matter what kind of person you are, I guess you don’t need me to tell you whether or not you need hope.
Anyways, I’m just here to say goodbye to anybody who has read any of the posts I have written, which I doubt anyone has, so what’s the point of this?
Oh well. I’ll still post it just in case.
I’m not gonna get on here anymore. It gives me hope. I don’t appreciate it. Nobody else in the world seems to need it, I think I’ll opt out and give some to those who actually need it.
Enjoy life if you can. If you are, I’m glad. I hope it continues for you.
Maybe I’ll see you again in two years.
Maybe then I can figure out all of this, or maybe then I can shut some extra shit down so I don’t always get caught up in hope.
Anyways, sorry I just got on here to bitch.
It all happened so fast. The light came and drew me out, out into the cold, relentless, unforgiving cold. But yet it was hot. My fingertips became numbed to the touch of anything I came in to contact with. I followed the darkness to a figure. The figure cast a shadowy darkness unlike that of surrounding abyss. I heard chants and echoes. Screams of torture and misery. I saw a world form just behind the figure. Who am I? What is happening? How did I end up here and where am I to go? All these questions. What are these questions and why am I having them? I move towards the world. The figure holds out his hand. I realize the enormous stature of the figure, and begin to fear. I fear what he is, what could be, I fear the cries of harrowed agony, the confusion and chaos beyond my comforting chasm. In an instant, the figure grabs and pulls me into the world. I feel a sudden rush of energy flow through me as I’m blinded by instantaneous light. As my senses overwhelm me, a new figure dressed in all white covers my face with a mask. I don’t understand, but I know that the world begins to fade. Fade back into the wonderful abyss from which I crossed into this world. The world melts and once more I fade into the darkness.
-and excerpt of Boredom by Surreal
Darlings, if there is ever a time in your life, don’t give up.
There’s no legitimate reason to, I promise you. There never will be, no matter your predicament. Sadly, you will never have a reason to give up, no matter what you think or what others tell you.
There will always be something good that you will have missed out on if you give up. If all logic is shot, if everything that you hold sacred to you is lost, if even your family gives up on you, if you lose everything, and you feel as though nothing has ever been going for you, you are wrong. Think of an animal, think of a drink, think of a color, and make it your goal to get that or in the case of the color, find a way to get something that color. It’ll make you smile, I promise.
There are a lot of reasons to give up, and even more reasons to end it all. There are a lot of things that will wrench all of that emotion that you jam-packed down, out of you. You need to let it though. Giving up that emotion is good, it prevents you from giving up. Giving up and giving up are truly two different things. I gave up a long time ago. I’m holding down again, but I mean, I don’t have an option to give up anymore if I want to keep any amount of sanity.
Anyways, just bottom line, don’t give up. Find yourself a very comfy spot down there at rock bottom, lay back and out of that bottomless pit, watch the stars.
Ha, I was going to have this be my last little entry on here, I couldn’t find my comfy spot at rock bottom. Found it, guys. See? Even when you lose everything, or so it seems, you can still find something.
Fuck. Why are all of my blogs on here so fucking hopeful? I’m really not this positive in real life. Ask Surreal. I’m a negative little fucker.
Oh well. Bye guys.
Listen to some music. It’ll bum you out and make you think, in a good way. Fucking deal with it.
Like Neutral Milk Hotel or Kimya Dawson or Radiohead or Ratatat.
Then develop a morbid sense of humor after crying a little bit.
Then read good literature like 1984, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Welcome to the Monkey House, or basically anything by Kurt Vonnegut.
Then go annoy people with your societally useless intelligence.
Then fall in love with somebody who shares this sort of humor with you.
Then have your heart broken.
Then wait a while.
Then find someone who matches you perfectly in every way, inexplicably.
Then borrow their blog, because undoubtedly, they’ll have some internet outlet.
Then rant like a motherfuck.
Then, continue on with life until you rant again.
Then smoke. (The best outcome is if you smoke once you begin your rants.)
Then keep living, ranting, smoking, and fucking.
Bye guys. Guess this wasn’t a farewell.
Be careful to not be as misleadingly hopeful as I am. I sicken myself sometimes.
I never wanted to be like this.
I wanted to stay happy and relaxed. Where I was last summer felt right. I was chill, I did shit like lay on my floor for hours, just burning incense and listening to bands like Colour Haze or Stoned Jesus. I didn’t do much, I painted, I sang, I sketched and I wrote. Quite obviously, I ranted. That’s never changed. My main worries of what to use money for were, how many sticks of incense can I afford? Or, who will give me the best deal on pot? I never really had problems with people. I didn’t get mad that easy. When I did, I kind of kept it to myself. And that was okay. It never ended in me snapping or anything like that. I was happy, I was healthy both physically and emotionally. Jesus, I spent hours on the phone with my friend just discussing sex. I had pagan rituals with friends, I graffitied everything I could get my hands on, I had fucking bonfires in the middle of dugouts. I took acid and walked around in the rain for what seemed like days.
But now. Fuck. I wedged myself into this corner. Hard. I’m deadset on getting a job as soon as possible. On going to college. I never wanted to go to college. Especially not law school. Law school. I’m going for my bachelors degree in Political Science, and then going to law school for another 6 years to become a tortes lawyer. (I don’t think I spelled that right.) What the fuck am I doing? I’m perfectly fine with getting married, with being engaged for the next two years. That’s wonderful. Love is a great commitment. But jesus christ. I’m going to go to college for a collective 10 years? I’m going to get a job and save the money for two years to do so? I’m not gonna get the Jeep Cherokee I’ve always dreamed of? I’m not going to fucking just drive around or walk around for no reason and hope I find a fucking armadillo to keep as a pet? I’m going to be concerned with money? With where I’ll live? I never cared about that. And really, I liked not caring about that. I don’t care if you say I’m growing up and maturing, so I need to be concerned with money and housing and all of that. No I don’t. I need to worry about nothing. I refuse to let myself fall into that pit. I will continue wearing my mushroom neclace, wearing my beat up as hell converse, wearing my band t’s, reading my distopian fiction, listening to my stoner rock, smoking my weed, and I will continue to not give a fuck.
It makes me laugh how I actually take my time to come up with a semi-clever title, (I may be giving myself too much credit there), like anybody actually reads this.
If you do, thanks, I hope you appreciate the title. Though I’m sure that readers of this rant-site are few and far between. Ha, like I give a fuck. I’ve ranted on my wall in highlighter, so when I get bored, I can turn on my black-light and be the only one to read it.
Anyways, I think I was going to rant. I’m not entirely sure, but considering that that’s all I really do on here, other than some finagling here and there, I probably am going to rant. I apologize, it’s 3:24am as of presently, and without sleep, my memory gets worse than it already is. I guess blacking out memories unintentionally sort of fucks with everything else too. Ah well.
Ever contemplate music? I have. Why do we hear these things as music, as enjoyable. I mean, there is preference. Like, I can’t stand some music. It doesn’t sound like music to me. I don’t understand the concept of music. Maybe I’m not meant to, though probably one of these days when I delve more into the beauteous study that is psychology, I’ll probably find out something that will help me understand more. I wish I didn’t wonder. It’d be so much nicer. That way, I would be content like all the other ignorant humans on this earth. Meh, maybe I don’t give the human race enough credit. I mean, my beau is extremely intelligent, and I’ll be damned if he isn’t part of the human race. (On a side-note, why do we call it a race? Are we all competing? I mean, the winner of a race usually has to cross a finish line, so what, are we seeing who can reach death the fastest? It irks me. Ha, funny story about why I spell it ‘irk’, not ‘erk’. Well, first off, irk is the correct spelling, but I always preferred the e. My ex’s largest pet peeves were when people spelled irk with an e, and when people would misspell definitely. [Another word I struggled with. Pieces was one, but that was fixed around 3rd grade.] I guess dating a grammar nazi improves intellectual skills.)
What was I going at? You know, I could probably scroll back up and see, but I’m not going to. Well, there’s no probably about it. I most definitely could scroll up and see what my original intent was. But I’m not going to. (Another thing, why do my teachers yell at me when I start a sentence with ‘but’? I get the grammatical error, but they yelled at me for it in creative writing assignments. What’s that bullshit? It’s dialect, you ignorant old twat.) Anyways, I’m going to go. My dad woke up for work (3:30am, mofos. My dad’s a fucking pro.) And for the first time in possibly 5 years of my suffering from insomnia, he yelled at me for being up too late. I figure it best not to piss him off this early in the morn’. So I bid you farewell, as I’m off to attempt sleep, which will probably only come if I finish this watermelon I’ve been eating for three hours. (I’m not that slow of an eater, the watermelon is that big.) Hehe, what if I was lying, and there really is no watermelon? I’m only saying that to have more to write, more to make you possibly chortle. Well, don’t worry, there is a watermelon.
So I totally forgot how to log into the site. Many lulz were had, cake was eaten, and I ended up with time I already had. So in ranting news, here’s what we’ll talk about, I should really make a vlog. I heard popping noises and immediately looked over to the window, disregarding the fact that my blinds are down and my x-ray vision has been poor lately, and the other fact that my neighbor recently decided to prop up a house next to mine. The bastard. Back to whatever I was talking about, Why are you reading this? I realize there’s really no one reading this and that this site is simply used as to vent out the frustrations and insane mental instability of a lover and her lover, respectively. However while you all whittle away your time trying not to die and worrying about it, you end up not doing what you truly desire. Sure, eat away at those doughnuts as you walk into your job everyday day, 9-5, 8-4, or fuck it maybe a 12 hours shift job. You work in the coal mines. Jokes on you, we don’t have those anymore, only the middle eastern countries do. Point is, do something that you’ve always wanted to do. And I don’t mean skyjumping or parasailing or any other faggot shit. I mean (shit got real on my keyboard) what is one ultimate goal of yours. Change country, rebuild a country, create a stable economy in Africa. Maybe something darker, rid the world of hobos, take out a couple politicians. Hypothetically of course, maybe, perhaps, sometime in the near future, horses. Deep down, you know what I’m talking about. And if you’re afraid no one will remember, just keep in mind that someway, somehow you’ve affected one person and they will remember you for the rest of your life. My armadillo will be on my mind all the time. She’s beautiful, talented, intellectual, loves to go on rants, and I couldn’t love her any less. In fact, never in my life will I ever run out of room for loving her. So. Basically, do something you want to do and love. I’ve always wanted to go on a rant, and look at me now! So, now that we’ve got that out of the way, I can’t wait to vote this year for the pretentious asshole who thinks his idea of fixing this economy is better than everyone else’s. The bastard. And then we’ve got this asshole at the laundry-mat, you all know him:
[on compassionpit.com chat]
Me: Of course.
Yeah, I’m pansexual. But you know what, I don’t give a fuck that I just came out to whoever read that. I’m posting this ’cause fuck. FUCK. Why the fuck is she scared? Godamnit, nobody should be scared to love. Jesus christ, why the fuck has that become the norm? It’s always been such a struggle to tell your family, those around you, that your sexuality is different than theirs. Jesus, I remember how scared I was when my grade found out I had a girlfriend. I remember how prejudiced my dad was against anybody gay, and how I was for a long time prejudiced as well. Yes, when I was younger, fuck, was I scared to be honest about that. And I’m not gonna lie, I still haven’t told my family.
But bottom line here, nobody should be scared to feel any way. Whether they be gay, bi, pan, or trans. That’s their choice. And anybody who says otherwise is a close-minded piece of shit. No, not a piece of shit. At least a piece of shit can serve a purpose as a fertilizer. I don’t want their body in my damn garden.
No, I’m not one of those people who parade around the fact that I’m pan, that I have a different sexuality than others and for that, I’m higher up than the rest of you. Not at all. I’m just saying that this is a major flaw in today’s society.
Nobody should ever be afraid, of anything, let alone being in love with somebody. Or just fucking somebody. Either way, it is a normal thing to feel that way. And no, sexuality is not a choice any more than skin color or the way your body develops.
Thanks guys, for listening. If anybody even is.
There’s nothing I hate more than when people demand that they are born with rights, one way or another.
You know why that annoys me? Because it’s utter bullshit. You are born into anarchy, which yes, gives you all the rights in the world, but darling, you, were not born into anarchy. You are born into democracy, bureaucracy, communism, etc. You have somebody over you, over your family, and over those around you that dictate your rights. Yes, even America does this, Mr. Patriot. Your living style is dictated, and no not because if it isn’t, you aren’t safe. That’s bull. You are in just as much danger now as you would be if this was utter anarchy, just now, if anything, it’s worse, because you never know when the danger will strike.
Anyways, (damn, I really need to stay on track with my initial thought), what I’m trying to say is those of you that think human’s have a natural right to life, to freedom of speech, religion, et-cetera, you are imbeciles. Obviously you don’t. Because there will always be somebody higher up on the ‘food chain’ than you that will depict whether or not you are allowed to live and how. I know people who are very much into doing first stage population control, as in, if you are born with any defects that would keep you from contributing to society, you would be immediately killed and not even given a second glance.
I guess what I’m trying to say overall, is stop giving the human race so much worth. Nobody really minds if we die, obviousy. Hello, the military, people? Why are we at war, again? Oh wait, there is no true reason. No, not because of 9/11 or Bin Laden, not at all. We already solved those problems. Not because of terrorism. If anything horrible was going to happen, wouldn’t it have happened by now? There’s easily accesible technology to do so. So we are dispensing men and women at the snap of the finger for…what cause?
I guess I personally am a bit more angry at the military for specifically taking my darling away. -sigh- Back to what I was saying.
No, humans have no worth, and we are not born with rights, and there is honestly almost no way that it can be argued otherwise.
Now, that is my thought process. Not my opinion. I’m not gonna lie, I don’t agree with the fact that humans aren’t born with rights. We are, just none of us act upon them. Besides, our rights are depicted anyways, so why bother arguing them, nobody will agree.
Oh well. Good afternoon, deary.
After several dashing moments of anti-climactic bursts of genius, I thought of a few names. None to my surprise, they were all taken. “Lifeblog”; “thinkingofsomething”; even the alternative “Richard” was taken. Things sounded sketchy here. I drop-headed my desk when only lowercase letters and numbers are allowed and a suggestion was “My-Diary”. Thanks WordPress for your instantaneous blogging set-up service.Luckily, Surrealitis is always a good option when left with nothing.
It’s very hard to pay attention to your Psyche instructor when she’s moving her hands about in a flailing motion attempting to detail the beginnings of the profession. Not to mention when the one thing we’re taught is that a blow to the frontal lobe is not always the best way to murder. Rather the occipital lobe (“which isn’t spelled correctly” -WordPress) is the most efficient method. But onto more interesting topics, e.g., a picture.
If you’ve read all this, then you’ll probably know I’ve no idea what I’m doing. Maybe I’ll figure out soon, but come back and hopefully you’ll find something cancerous and more appealing. Or leave me a hint on what to do to improve.
The Anti-Surreal Blogger
Bottom line: We are nothing on the grand scheme of things. (We being the human race and humans in general.)
As my physical science teacher put it, we are stardust. We will become nothing, and make up yet another star, which are small in comparison to planets, in comparison to solar systems, in comparison to everything bigger, etc, etc. We are forever nothing, and that will never change. Yes, the human race is convinced that we are the utter center of the universe (no pun intended), but quite obviously, we are not. We are nothing. Alright, as for you specifically, you are even more of nothing. Your life will be utterly insignificant in ten years, if not less. In ten fucking years, practically everyone will have forgotten you, unless you have that many years of school left, in that case, you’re in 2nd grade, which puts you at about 6-7 years old. In that case, I commend you for reading this, and if you have read this and fully understood it, I commend you and those who raised you. Anywho, I got off of topic. But if you’re at the point in life I am, finishing up school, tying in those who are truly important to you, and generally growing up and settling down, many, many people will have forgotten you in 10+ years from now.
Your death, insignificant in the bigger picture. Some will mourn, but after a few years, unless you made an enormous impact on the human race, you will be forgotten. You have to do something as big as a president’s fuck up, as MLK’s whole deal, or fucking lead a war. Even the last option is practically nothing, only history buffs will know of you. That’s still sorta pushing it, I love history, but I barely bother to remember names, just the times, dates, etc. Basically, my point is, most everything you do is nothing to anyone.
Now I’m sure you’re somewhat bummed after reading all of that. But why? My darling reader, if you are out there, don’t look at this fact as a negative thing. It’s a wonderfully positive, liberating fact of life.
I know for a fact there is something you have wanted to do for a while, but haven’t because of what society might think of it, or had impulses that you haven’t acted upon because of what others may think or what may happen as a consequence. Well I’m here to tell you, fucking go out and do it.
You are insignificant, people don’t truly care about what you do when it comes to it in the long run, so why the fuck are you too nervous, too wary, unwilling to do what you want? You can do anything you please, from yelling in public, to getting in fights. From stealing a pack of gum, to attempting a full take-over of the government. If you have the capability to do something, do so. I support you in full, as I will do anything that I am mentally an physically capable of, whatever that may entail from now to the future. Darling, my sweet, sweet, endlessly filled with possibilities darling, go. Go fucking do whatever you want. You are beautifully insignificant, wonderfully small, and so perfect for destruction or reparation. You know your possibilities, you know all of the things you can do, and you know what you want to do.
Now go do so.
I wish you luck, and I know you can do it, no matter what it may be, whether it be take down your malfunctioning government, mass murder, some enormous act of theft, or just falling in love with somebody.
You can do whatever you want, you are capable of everything anybody else is, and more, my beautiful speck of stardust.
Surreal will guide you, I’ll kick you in the ass ’til you get it right.