|
|
Feb. 2nd, 2009 @ 08:23 am
|
|---|
|
i really need to start doing things for me.
wait, what the fuck have i been doing for the past.....forever?
well i gotta start now anyway. |
|
|
Oct. 31st, 2008 @ 04:42 pm
|
|---|
|
Kay Kay and his Weathered Underground is so good.
like seriously. |
|
|
Oct. 12th, 2008 @ 01:31 pm
|
|---|
|
WOAH WOAH WOAH so wait!
you dont want the government LOOKING into what you do on the internet (for "security" purposes), YET its completely cool and even NECESSARY for the government to CONTROL, SEE, KNOW, AND DICTATE how much money you make, where you work, what you buy, and how you live your life?
Dont get me wrong, i didnt support invasion of privacy by any means, but whats more private than how you live your life in a money driven WORLD?
Absolutely ridiculous.
fuck this contradictory society. |
|
And her eyes are most valuable to greedy men
for they shine a million times more brilliant than 10 million of the earths finest emeralds.
he has no choice but to be overtaken by one glance. |
|
its a funny and amazing feeling when you see beauty that once meant everything to you and noticing that meaning faded into non existence. disappeared just like the past, out of forever into forever. its all just one constant flow (from non existence to existing back again to non existence). kind of cant help to feel so irrelevant yet so very uplifted and optimistic.
I think i might be entering into absurdity, or not. either way i'm faced with the same question. Determining the direction is entirely up to what i decide to do about the question in the first place.
Empowerment.
I cant wait to kick a few shiners back and put a record to spin with my brothers.
freedom. empowerment. choice. virtue or vice?
Being virtuous means nothing without its counterpart, Viciousness. |
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
if the walls in the room could talk
i wonder to myself would they laugh?
Sep. 30th, 2008 @ 10:52 pm
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
I. feel. nothing.
and good god it feels great.
Sep. 13th, 2008 @ 04:55 pm
|
| » truth. |
|---|
I just had a recent class discussion about truth and how Heraclitus, the presocratic philosopher, described it. In doing this, my professor asked the class the question, "what do you see outside?". I replied " a tree", he preceded to ask, " what about the tree?" and i responded " its changing colors". This whole little conversation was a lie on my part. when asked what i saw outside, i immediately though " a distraction". In saying the tree is outside as a TRUTH, i was lying. There is a distraction outside, THAT is the only truth. I am distracting myself on a distraction in order to distract a distraction. Have fun understanding that sentence because it is WAY more truthful that writing " i am typing on a computer in order to portray my thoughts. Its all one big distraction. One big disgusting, repulsive sickening fucking distraction. I wanted to say that in my class, and let everyone understand that the whole conversation was one pointless distraction from the real truth: nothingness, existence in the presence, and death.
Its fucking disgusting.
Sep. 12th, 2008 @ 11:11 am
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
"I looked anxiously around me: the present, nothing but the present. Furniture light and solid, rooted in its present, a table, a bed, a closet with a mirror- and me. The true nature of the present revealed itself: it was what exists, and all that was not present did not exist. the past did not exist. Not at all. Not in things, not even in my thoughts. It is true that I had realized a long time ago that mine had escaped me. But until then I believed that it had simply gone out of my range. For me the past was only a pensioning off: It was another way of existing, a state of vacation and inaction; each event, when it had played its part, put itself politely into a box and became an honorary event: we have so much difficulty imagining nothingness. Now i knew: things are entirely what they appear to be- and behind them... there is nothing."
- Jean- Paul Sartre
... pure fucking genius. Brilliance.
Aug. 30th, 2008 @ 03:40 pm
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
i need an external hard drive.
anyone want to help me out with that one?
Jun. 17th, 2008 @ 09:31 am
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
Documentation of my thoughts. pay no attention.
Today the question in my brain has been about art. what -IS- art? what constitutes something as being art? what is an artist? am i an artist? who isnt an artist. I am afraid to share what is going on in my own head in fear of feeling crazy, or in fear that no one else will understand and comprehend it.
I am an artist. An artist is one who can convey a message or portray a thought or belief through combining 'things' ( i set this apart because i am not trying to distinguish things as objects or tangible items) that are seemingly emotionless, meaningless and irrelevant at the time to the Artist. An artist can combine these things to make an -Expression-. Is this definition correct? Then i am an artist. every being capable of coherent cognitions about the world around them are, by my understanding, capable of being artists. I do not write music, literature or poems. I do not sculpt, or dance or convey my art in any of these mediums. I observe, and contemplate. A few days ago i was walking in the main quad of the university i attend and noticed a small, yet full pine tree growing to the right of the library ( from my point of view). i had never noticed this pine tree and as far as im concerned it never existed before i took notice. I carefully observed its surrounding in hopes to discover why i found this seemingly insignificant tree so interesting and so meaningful. beside from the beauty held by the tree and its surrounding brilliant green grass, sophisticated structures of the buildings around it and peaceful look, the tree made a statement as i constructed in my mind. This tree and its surrounding made a strong statement that was able to portray TO ME the state of my life i am living right now. The tree, nay, this MOMENT is -ART-. Now some may argue that this is not art, that art must be universally recognized as such. My response is why? what importance is the opinions and analysis of others to me. This tree made a statement to me, i constructed a view of this tree, this scene in my head in order to convey and portray a message that emotionally moved me and expressed some sort of idea and message. Some other passer by may have looked at the tree and thought nothing of it. Another may have seen it and constructed a completely different meaning or message about their tree creating a different piece of -ART-. None of this is relevant to the construction made in my own head, making this scene -ART-. From the second i saw and constructed this in my head has this scene been art, regardless of the fact i have yet to share the occurrence with anyone. I took objects that were seemingly meaningless and mundane and combined them in my head and constructed a somewhat profound meaning and statement. It makes no difference that this was not portrayed through some sort of medium as music or painting. The art is the MEANING constructed by the combination of things, not the tangible object many have come to think of as art. And by this definition and understanding of art, i am sure that the mediums of art form well beyond a mere song or some 3 or 2 dimensional object. must we be so ignorant to think that the only forms of art are those that we can feel, hear, or experience factually instead of transcendently? such notions are in my mind ridiculous and closed minded for the most important art is the art that we create ourselves in reactions to our own cognitions and beliefs the ones we construct in reaction and acceptance or in objection to others' -ART-. it is until we accept our Transcendence as a medium of art that we will be objects and captives of our surroundings, prisoners to our own facticity and the facticity of our environment.
Apr. 22nd, 2008 @ 02:08 pm
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
Cold Roses -IS- inspiration.
Apr. 17th, 2008 @ 11:16 am
|
| » ITS OFFICIAL |
|---|
ive lost all motivation to do anything. it even took me a few minutes to force myself to do this.
but like for real, everything.
im not even about to say its bad though.
Apr. 6th, 2008 @ 11:21 am
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
fuck this.
im talking about the way life goes about playing itself out, its ridiculous. i wish it would just tell me what it wants out of me.
I just want to be driving on the way home for the summer. home forever. with out you. without you in my mind or in person.
what does life want from me and why does it cancel itself out so often. Im becoming fed up with all of lifes crazy tricks and shenanigans. i mean, gimme a break. God if you can read live journal and junk... gimme a break. i mean come on
Apr. 2nd, 2008 @ 11:25 pm
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
I want to be the bluebird singing
Singing to the roses in her yard
The roses in her yard her father grew for her
It's been raining that Tennessee honey
So long I got too heavy to fly
Ain't no bluebird ever gets too heavy to sing
Dec. 31st, 2007 @ 01:45 pm
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
fuck shitty music
amen
Jun. 17th, 2007 @ 11:49 am
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
i believe two years ago i wouldve said it best.
and i wouldve said .....
FUCK YOU.
whos up for fighting with me in a big brawl?
finally.
im happy.
dont fucking get in my way.
May. 21st, 2007 @ 01:01 am
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
Tell me what sin replaces love
I wanna know, right now
Tell me what sin replaces love
I wanna know, right now
Imagine yourself on a mountain
Mountain discovered with flowers
Flowers discolored with horses
Horses distracted by stones
Stone distrusted with me
Then you might know what I mean
'Cause I want to kick love right in its gut
Beat it and leave for dead
Wash my hands in the river
Lie down and die in your bed
The voice on the receiver
Baby cry howlin' in the wind
I don't wanna beg for your mercy
I wanna know right know, what sin
Tell me what sin replaces love
May. 4th, 2007 @ 12:08 pm
|
| » for those of you in texas. |
|---|
i miss you guys.
im looking forward to
chipotle, bedford snoballs, dallas, moneen, starbucks, shopping, seeing my brothers, the gaylord texan, the magnolia, the angelika, taco diner, mi cocina, denton, java flakes, my bed, espresso after every meal, grapevine lake, warm weather, not having snow on the ground all the time, rocky votolato, nick laufer, alex gibson, diana robertson, nelson toole, douglas sotherland (sorry if i butchered the spelling), the wii, my big ass tv!, afternoon naps in front of my big tv, cooking, jon hermes ( at the end of break), kelly rahner, sarah herndon, sarah moore!, american apparel, urban outfitters, no school, sushi, my dad, and my mom, ALEXYS, JON ERIK ( i really wish there was a way to get a hold of you).
i think thats all.
i miss all of you guys, and i hope you guys are really enjoying life recently.
Feb. 21st, 2007 @ 01:27 pm
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
i really dont know what to expect and although i dont think im expecting anything, i have a feeling that i might be subconsciously and im not ready for that fall.
i really wish things would be straight forward and cut and dry all the time. i dont care if it made things a lot more dull. it would just make everything a lot more simple.
Feb. 19th, 2007 @ 10:47 pm
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
displayofbruise's journal