I’ve always thought that I had problems living in the moment, but time and I have this understanding; it takes, it gives; it’s the only thing you can depend on, and the last thing you’d want to. Time is only an illusion, this thing we think we share, and take comfort in, but deep down do you believe that time is telling you the absolute truth? We count down the seconds, minutes, hours, days, measure our lives in social calenders, cups of coffee, cigarette breaks, yoga classes, scheduling in happiness, and taking comfort in our memories, which we store in the shadows of our selves and dust off when we need them. If time is so concrete, then surely those snapshots must be unchanging. Tell me the edges haven’t blurred, you haven’t noticed something that wasn’t there before; tell me the addition of time didn’t add or subtract to your memory of time, and we’ll bow down to time like it’s an absolute of which we should place the utmost importance.
If you can not, and i’m willing to gamble this is the case, then why must I place my value, my worth, in it’s passing? What i’m getting at is, it’s not me; it’s you.
Growing up I placed my worth, when I had nothing, in “one day”, and I pushed myself constantly for more, better. It worked. I came to a point where I began to like myself, and instead of stopping and finding some contentment there, I just kept pushing. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t asking myself “What next?” or “What do I do?”; i’ve created an existence in which there is no such thing as enough.
I won’t deny that my constant desire and well-intentioned ambition are an internal force, and believe me, i’ve heard plenty of “you must be be happy with yourself before ______” type propaganda, and it’s always left me confused. If this is true, then surely I must loathe myself, but…the thing is, I don’t. For love to be real, it means acceptance, right? To accept something, most would say, some understanding of it is necessary.
Here’s what I understand: No one questions when i’m happy, even when it comes about with no apparent cause, but if I ever feel any other emotion, in order to not be looked at with blank eyes and be deemed a depressed cynic, I must say, simply, that i’m fine? There were moments in my past that I was told I wasn’t enough without knowing what my future was, like it was about to come running to me holding out the answers to life like a mom chasing after a school bus with a child’s forgotten lunch [okay, that analogy was never used…]. and now, in what once was future, i’m consistently told that i’ll have none of this new future if I don’t deny the past the past all of its cause and effect. Why is it fair to take away my pieces? If i’m to place any importance in existence, than why can’t I have all of it?
I am so tired of faulting myself for having love rather than goals.
What am I doing with my life?…
I’m going to try to find as much magic in moments as I can. I’m going to acknowledge the monsters in the shadows. I’m not going to smile just because you tell me to, or senselessly push harder through time to get to the future that doesn’t exist, shoving aside one now for another, because “that’s the important one, that one up there.” I’m going to acknowledge that I don’t see love as a separate entity from happiness, and i’m going to love unabashedly. I won’t be trying to fill a void; I won’t be codependent; I won’t be seeking distraction, but rather, simply being honest. It’s going to fucking hurt, when people come and go, when things don’t turn out as i’d hoped, when time shuts a door and a person or place and they don’t make it into “the future”, but I won’t, no, I can’t, let that strip them of all their meaning. I’m not giving the past this insurmountable power over me, but i’m not giving it to the future, either; by acknowledging who i’ve been, and who I am, that which I know and that which I don’t, i’m taking the power. I won’t live in fear of what could be, just as I won’t live in fear of what won’t, and when I open the door for a stranger, or smile at someone on the street, it won’t be so others will call me pleasant, or god will let me into some gated dimension full of fluffy clouds and brass instruments. In this way, i’m not a consequence of time, time is a consequence of me.
"When we’re incomplete, we’re always searching for somebody to complete us. When, after a few years or a few months of a relationship, we find that we’re still unfulfilled, we blame our partners and take up with somebody more promising. This can go on and on—series polygamy—until we admit that while a partner can add sweet dimensions to our lives, we, each of us, are responsible for our own fulfillment. Nobody else can provide it for us, and to believe otherwise is to delude ourselves dangerously and to program for eventual failure every relationship we enter."
Tom Robbins (via faustus-syndrome)
"We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing."
Charles Bukowski (via observando)
Did you know that you actually can never forget a face? Every single face you’ve ever seen during your life gets stored into your memories, and gets used up later. For example, in dreams your brain can’t just make up a face. Every single face you’ve seen in your dream, you’ve seen somewhere once in your life.
And those strange nightmares you’ve had of those terrible demon like creatures ?
You’ve seen them around too, you just cant remember. You don’t want to remember.
I have no idea how valid this is, but i’d like to think my dreams are like Ed Gein, sure.
The Art of Staying Aloft: a photo series by Gloria Wilson of Small Mysteries.
Napkin Notes by Garth Callaghan
A 44-year-old father with terminal cancer writes 826 notes on napkins to pack with his daughter’s lunches for everyday she has class, through high school.
My Only Constants Are Variables.
- Never say always.
- Never say never.
- Question everything.
- Do what scares you.
- Find magic in the “ordinary”
- Wear boots [be prepared for anything]
- Make no promises.
- Talk to strangers.
- Be a story you’d want to hear.
"(What are your ghosts like?)
(They are on the insides of the lids of my eyes.)
(This is also where my ghosts reside.)
(You have ghosts?)
(Of course I have ghosts.)
(But you are a child.)
(I am not a child.)
(But you have not known love.)
(These are my ghosts, the spaces amid love.)"
Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated (via reinventthesea)
"She had fallen in love so many times that she began to suspect she was not falling in love at all, but doing something much more ordinary."
Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated (via fuckyeahjonathansafranfoer)
Mental health advice from your friendly neighbourhood Sane Person™
- have you tried yoga
- yes? okay what about pilates
- have you tried eating food that you cant afford
- why don’t you get a job
- do you sleep enough/too much
- try sleeping better
- have you considered Normal people’s feelings
- have you considered becoming Normal like us
- i think that would help
- here i printed out this article on deep breathing from a Women’s online magazine, it helped my coworker who was sad one time
- hey your’e creative, maybe you could write your own article
[insert snarky smile here]