I have to write a reflective essay but because of this damn blog I feel like everything I think of is a just a rehash of a post I've made! So I'll probably just steal a post and turn it into an essay.

Doo doo doo doo do doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo do do dooo do do dooo.

I don't want anyone to think that I'm a spiteful person. That's something I have to work on. I'm afraid I come off as a total ass sometimes.

I can't fool myself. I try to stop caring but I just come off as mean. There's nothing righteous in catharsis or obsession.

I know there's nothing profound in me and I hope no one thinks that there is. I do my best to avoid pretension, but I find my way into more often than I'd like to. But oh well. Introspection can only do so much healing. I need to start changing. I need to start growing. It's easy to say those things right now...

The failures of the world don't give inspirational speeches. The failures of the world aren't quoted.

When I think about the things I don't like in people, I don't see any of those things in people I know.

I sabotage myself by wearing my heart on my sleeve. I'm simply too immature right now.

Self-pity is narcissism disguised as depth. Introspection is loneliness disguised as profundity. Cynicism is fear disguised as wisdom. I don't want to pretend to be something I'm not. The novelty of sadness is short lived. People want to be around happy people. I think people see me and think that there's something more to me, something deeper. There's not. Maybe I don't play up the mysterious thing enough. I don't know...

Alright. That's it. I feel like everything that I had going for me disappeared the week my friend left. Ever since then I've been a mess. It's like I lost all my friends, not just one. I know that's my fault, but I won't be missed. I know how this goes. I'm giving it one more chance. One more. If not, then fuck it.

I know all my flaws. Well, most of them. Don't bother insulting me.

I've come to realize that there exists a many ways of getting over something, two of which I've been thinking about: one healthy and one dangerous.
To truly overcome a problem we must solve it. For example, I often project the power to make me happy onto other people. To healthily get over this I have to give myself that power.
Then there's the unhealthy way. An example would be if I were to stop projecting that power onto an unwilling source and onto a willing one. The inherent problem lies in that people will disappoint us.
I cannot simply displace my unhappiness. I gotta grab it and make it my own.

It's so much easier to get respect from adults than from people my age.

Just gotta stop thinking for a while. Just gotta stop thinking. So often I turn my music up as loud as possible and just scream along. It's fun! It's great!

Just gotta stop thinking...

I'm downtown right now. I came here for breakfast.

I invited some friends, but I guess it was too early. So I walked around for a couple hours, and it was...nice. I didn't have to try to make conversation. I didn't have to ask about someone's day. I didn't have to try to be funny or witty or thoughtful or kind or relaxed when I know I'm none of those things. I wasn't concerned with how I looked or the vibe I put off. I wasn't plagued with jealousy or feelings of inadequacy. I didn't fantasize. I didn't stare with envious eyes. I didn't ponder my short-comings. I didn't worry about boring anyone. I had no pretense. I had no obligations. I was simply...me, and it was nice.

I could admire the buildings without articulating what I liked about them. I could look at a book without remarking about the title. I looked at myself and thought: you're a pretty cool guy, Chris. I told myself, "Don't preoccupy yourself with 'ifs' and 'maybes.' And it might be sad that this is the first time in a long time that you've had peace of mind, at least you have it now."

So maybe I'm not an intellectual or a poet or a prince charming or a comedian or an alpha. So maybe I'll never stun someone with my profundity. So maybe I'll never enamor someone I'm enamored with. So maybe I'll never write a Shakespearean sonnet. So maybe I'll never provoke anything more than a chuckle. So maybe I'll never be the most confident or fit guy. Right now, for the first time in my memory, I don't hate myself. Besides, it's foolish to speak in absolutes.

I've never looked for pity. I've never wanted someone to tell me what a poor thing I am and how life has been so hard on me, 'cause that's bullshit. I've never wanted anything more than understanding.

Funny thing how people always say that you deserve better, but then no one ever gives it to you. You have to earn it.

This morning has been incredibly therapeutic, and even if the effects don't last, I'm glad they existed.

This is only a place for me to vent. I'm not looking for understanding or help.
"Don't leave my hyper heart alone on the water."
Sometimes I find myself walking away from my friends for a couple minutes. Sometimes I barely talk. I do that when I can't think, when my brain is too full of bad ideas and fantasies to hold a conversation. I think it comes off as pretension sometimes, or self-pity, or pouting. Maybe it is sometimes.

I am the only person in between myself and happiness. No one can bring it to me. Even if all I want was given to me, I'd be a miserable person. So I have to change the way I think. I can't be a tunnel-sighted romantic. I can't be a pensive child. I've known these things for a while. But really, Chris.



"No one said this would be easy."

Those that are not loved want love more than those that are.

The people that never grow up are the most grown up.

I don't want to make too broad a statement without acknowledging the fact that I am only a teenager and that I have a very small pool of experience from which to derive. So now that the disclaimer is out of the way: the people that appreciate love the most are the ones that don't get it. Funny, huh? Not really. Pretty...sad.

The more I get to know a person, the more enamored I become with everything about that person. It's a flaw in my nature. To quote Charlie Kaufman's incredible movie, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?

I am a pseudo-romantic. I'm a pseudo-intellectual. I'm a pseudo-friend. I'm just...false.

It's an awful thing to be in love with the idea of love.

"Had we but world enough and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long-preserved virginity,
And your quaint honor turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning glow,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run."
-Andrew Marvell

Today we saw the moon fall. We thought the world was going to end. "What do we do?", we jokingly asked. "We fuck!" I jokingly said. If everyone was immortal, sex would rarely happen. But we're not. I'm not any more obsessed with fucking than any other guy, but there's a reason why it's such a large part of the eternal zeitgeist.

I always have a plan. Always. I envision myself growing a pair. But whatever. You have to crawl before you can walk.

I didn't love myself until I stopped loving you;
These melancholy skies can't hold any truth.
The night turns on and I think to myself:
Will it ever fall on somebody else?
Mess of blue and grey summons the day away.
When it rains it pours. The rain isn't here to stay.
Kicked the habit. Now I'm back on the train.
Now I disappear into the mellow, quiet rain.

My pretentious longings sink to my lungs;
A flash of green disappears with the sun.
I stare from a beach, burnt and alone.
More content than I've ever been because I can see that I've grown.

Cynicism is always in fashion. I've been told that I seem cynical and judgmental; I'm not. I'm vocal about my opinions, yes, but my opinions aren't any worse than the next person's. I'm a very firm believer in the goodness of people. I'm a very firm believer in the subjective nature of life. If I dislike someone, I remind myself that there are people that love that person.
I project my ideas of perfection onto other people, which is bad. I don't see any goodness in myself, even if though there's plenty. I...I'm working on building confidence in myself so I can engender it in others.

"If you don't believe in fantasy then don't believe in fantasy but
do you not believe in fantasy because it gets you down?
If you don't believe it's raining I won't tell you that it's raining
but do you not believe it's raining just because it gets you down?
If you don't believe in happiness then don't believe in happiness
but if you don't believe in happiness then man you must be down.
If you don't believe you're dying I won't tell you that you're dying
but do you not believe you're dying just because it gets you down?"

No one ever really comes to understand another person. We create closer and closer approximations of who that person is, but it is only asymptotically. Some people have a whole number in front of their variable, some people have a fraction; regardless, none of us ever reach 1, but we never start out at zero either. Every single person is so similar.
Sometimes I like to tell myself that I'm unique; that I am a beacon of originality in a world of conformity; well I used to like to tell myself that. I don't anymore. Why? Because I'm not. We make people different; we choose to give certain actions certain connotations, but we rarely actually see the true meaning behind them. I am the same type of person that you are, that he is, that she is.
To try to stand out defeats the purpose of standing out. Everyone tries to stand out; some people do it through ostentatious eccentricity, some people convince themselves that they are the only people to ever think of something. We forget the value of empathy. We want to stand alone, and above, in a sea of humanity. But we forget that everyone is on a couple phonebooks, so our attempts at originality only make us more like everyone else.

Every thought has been thought, feeling felt, heart hurt. And by every person too. I am not unique not enlightened nor intelligent nor profound. I do not consider myself wiser than any other person for thinking this, because everyone has his own wise ideas. Everyone is an intellectual, a writer, a poet, an athlete, an eccentric, a mystery, an open book, a lover, a fighter.

In a world of over 6.5 billion people, how can I consider myself to be unique in any way?

How can anyone?

Neutrality is a choice to help the winning side.

I feel...lied to, almost? Maybe it was all just my mind.

Pain is measured by duration, not intensity.

I just need to survive one more year. One more year of all this. I've survived the past three. It doesn't get easier, but just one more. One more. One day at a time. Each hour. More difficult than the next, but I just need to survive one more.

I just wan to fall asleep for an eternity.

I'm sick with insecurity.

“Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship.”
-Oscar Wilde

I need a more elegant way of articulating what I feel.

The only thing keeping me from happiness is myself; I know this. God, do I know it. So what next? I can't seem to think myself into happiness.

I don't have much to complain about. I don't know why I'm perpetually miserable.

Some things are just overwhelming.

This morning I nearly thought myself into a coma, or some sort of incoherent state. This morning I hated myself; I hated myself the way I hated myself weeks ago, but every time it feels worse. I can't make someone else happy if I can't even make myself...not happy, but even just neutral.
My jealous eyes already possess.
My hateful mind hates only itself.
I wish I was avant-garde.
I wish I was clever.
Witty.
Attractive.
Smart.
I know what I would make myself. I hate that some people are already my ideal. I move too slowly. I was never able to move at all. I've said this with sincerity before, and now it is still as genuine: I want to die.

I can't make people like me.

Just when I thought I was coping, I find a couple reasons to stay miserable.

I realize that what I want is selfish. I realize that everyone deserves the best (s)he can get, but it doesn't help.

Two things tonight made me...sad.
1) A great friend, that practically saved my junior year of high school, leaves for California tomorrow and tonight was the last time I saw her.
Second...huh.

Shit. I wanna fucking die.

I want to die.

I'm a foolish, mopey, miserable, childish pest.

I won't do it. I concede defeat. I lack the charm and ability to ever reach that high.

If only I could read minds, then I'd never have to take a chance. So. I am presented with a choice, I know where one path leads, but the second has never been trodden, but with good reason. Do I dare? My fear is so large, but at this moment, I think my stupidity is behemoth.

Well, here I am, I think. You know that "wasteland" that I referred to earlier? I'm in it. I tried to avoid it. I tried to make things clear. I tried to do that. But I lack things that would have prevented this. Maybe I can try to get out one last time. Maybe I'm being selfish. Maybe I should wait...maybe I shouldn't. If only I could interpret things better...

There's a creeping disease that no one can avoid, but must be avoided. It eats up ambition and makes passion stale. To stop it, one must constantly reinvent oneself.

I hope that no one ever has a legitimate reason to call me an asshole or a dick or a douche or arrogant.

Everyone knows what hurt feels like. The depth of pain can be measured by it's longevity. To say that someone doesn't understand to is to misunderstand.

Sometimes I don't know what to think of myself. Sometimes I just want an honest summation of everything I am written out in front of me.

I wish tone and intent was easier to decipher through text. Somethings can be so ambiguous that I don't know what the hell to think.

I can't be selfish. I can't read too much into things. I don't have that kind of effect on people, even if certain people have it on me.