nevermind.

i am honestly losing my mind. i ... i don't know. i need to stop. i can't decide whether this insane beating of my head is induced by extreme caffeine intake or tears. i ... i don't know. i believe i said that already, in the exact same way. i don't know what to do with my life, or what my life is doing with me. i feel like we are meant to just find ourselves. find our way in the world. that is the meaning, i'm sure. but how can we even be sure that there is a meaning. i don't even know if i care to know if there is a meaning. i don't know. i need to make films. i don't even care to make films. i need to write. i need to expose myself to humanity. i need to completely gut myself and throw it into the faces of everyone on the planet. feel what i feel. i want people to...feel what i feel. i was on the edge of saying that i want to be understood. but ... how can such a thing be possible? i mean...really. how could anyone ever truly understand another individual? i believe in the concept of soulmates. i believe in it in the sense that some people are from the same "soul" and it splits off and inhabits several people. that's how i use the term. i don't mean it in the "i'm sexually in love with you" sense. i mean it in the way that, some people in the world are actually a part of you. more like...together you are a part of something greater. yes, i know to anyone that may stumble upon this it may sound like a load of shit. probably the unflushable kind in the port-a-pot of existence. but. i don't care. and i have to shit really badly as it is from all of the coffee, so that analogy was a horrible choice.

there are two purposes of art. to entertain. and to expose feeling. at least that is how i understand it. i guess another way of thinking of it is finding truth. a lot of artists have abandoned this. at least that's how i like to think of it. because...so many things in "art" now are so surface...and if i let myself believe that they are truly involved in art for arts sake...the "deeper fulfillment and understanding" it provides...it just makes me realize how shallow and braindead our society is becoming. and i feel like i am completely full of shit when i say things like this, because what in the hell am i doing that is any different from anyone else? i wish i knew how, you know? i wish i fucking knew what it was that i was meant to do. but i don't want to be under the impression that i am "destined" to do something specific. a part of me is destroyed by the acknowledgement of a possible "destiny." the idea of "fate" is also one that blows my mind to bits. i struggle with this concepts a great deal. i'm almost certain that i can't throw them out of my mind completely.

art. writing is an art. it's interesting to think of it as an art, because it is words. if writing is an art, then wouldn't speaking be one as well? wouldn't everything we do be considered an art? or is art only art if it's intentional? and if it is intentional, is it not just humanity? so then...isn't art just humanity? therefore we live for art because art is living itself.

these are such dramatic concepts. the sad thing is i am not aiming for the dramatics. i am just ... i need to get this out. i don't mean i need to purge my system, because it will forever be a part of me, but i feel like i need to just. i need. what the hell do i need? i am just rambling. is there a time when i don't ramble? and the thing is. there is a time when i don't ramble. i just sit there in complete silence. but it isn't silent in my mind. my thoughts race like olympic athletes. only typically they never make it to the finish line because my thoughts are the kind that fuck up their ankles and never recover to make it to through the race. HA. fucking. a. eh? jersey? canada?

i need to travel. i need to travel and i don't know why. am i chasing something, or running away? why do people do what they do? what pushes them to live their lives in the way that they choose? what is actually important? i think these things are self defined, and yet so many people do not live their own lives. they get sucked into the gears of society. their purpose does not end up being for themselves, but instead for the propelment of society itself. i keep creating words with "ment" at the end instead of "ing." i like ment better, so that's my excuse.

but yes. we live in america, yes? well...not all of us, obviously. but americans are the biggest feeders into society. here we are in the presumably "free" country, and yet we are the most sucked into grouping ourselves. we may have "individualism" and what not, but...everyone ends up searching for their place to fit. i don't think there is a such thing as the individual sometimes, we are all part of something bigger than ourselves. i think we live under this false sense of uniqueness but ... the idea of self actualization is also one that completely destroys my logical skills. i feel like in order to achieve it...i feel like there is no way you can obtain "self-actualization" without the presence of someone else. i feel like human emotions are the meaning of life because they are the only thing that can last longer than time itself. events pass, but for some reason we have this "emotional side" that lingers long after everything around us changes. it is the only thing that is actually personal and characteristic only to ourselves. so wouldn't that be the soul? wouldn't that be the meaning inside of you? and i feel like that is the only way to achieve complete self-actualization. the final step perhaps. but i think people who are so keen in reaching it are the ones who will fail most definitely. how can you live your life, truly, when you are so worried about living it the way you need to to "find yourself."

what the hell am i talking about? i don't know. i am worried. i am worried about my future. i don't really want money. i don't really want fame. i feel like...media has destroyed humanity, and yet at the same time is bringing it together. i hate the separation between the "famous" and the "other." i feel like in order to live my life i need to break into the fame circle, just to be around the people i will be able to connect with. that's all i really want to do...

jesus god. my head is ready to explode. i'm taking classes this semester. 2 of them are on film and such. well, one is a film viewing/discussing class. the other is media script writing. what kind of nonsense do you think will flow from my fingertips? bloody hell. this headache. alcohol is not this bad. maybe i should start drinking. just kidding. almost.

i have no money. i have no job, no escape. i feel like what i am in need of expulsing (i have begun creating words with "ing" now, instead of ment) could really be powerful, if i could release it in some way. i wish i could let go of it through music, but i don't know.

why do i become so offended by people sometimes. i just started crying again. i feel completely helpless and yet empowered. i am losing my mind. or finding it. i honestly think that it is impossible to truly live in the world today. everything is a roadblock on the road to truth. and like. some things... some things that i don't feel are important, actually are. for instance, i would not feel fulfilled with my life if i invented toilet paper. and yet i really need it to wipe my ass right now. so where would i be, if someone didn't invent that? i would be outside searching for leaves.

i feel like society has evolved past the age of self-discovery. it's like...first we invented all of the "necessities" to better our lives and make them easier...so that we could think about things. so that we could focus on more than just surviving. and maybe that age has passed us. maybe people like wagner and mahler and schopenhauer and freud and all of them...maybe they were the "thinking" period and some of us are just left over. i think we have evolved past the need for thought. there is no place for it anymore. are these people no longer trapped in their subconscious or something? do they not experience these episodes as i do? are they free? or are they just in denial?

i want things in my life that can be categorized as surfacy. i do. i want to date, and i want to have fun. but at the same time, i end up destroying all of these things because i think too much. so i feel like they need to be intertwined with my life. i think i need to be a complete individual at all times. this unsaid understanding to the degree of understanding that is possible. i often times blame my environment for things. while environment can play a huge part in anything and everything, i think it is also mainly internal.

i have no idea how long i am going to write. i don't really see the point in stopping because usually when i stop writing something, well...that's not true...because i never have a point. what i was going to say was that usually when i write i stop writing when i come to my conclusion, but that was a blatant lie because most of the time when i write i just ramble forever and hope that sometime my fingers and mind will need to stop, and thus, i conclude my writing. that sounded like a final statement. it wasn't. it was an example of one i think.

below where i am typing it says. "Labels for this post: e.g. scooters, vacation, fall." what would i label this? insanity? no. this is indeed a scooter. good show, blogspot. you have read my mind.

i wonder if i would think people like me were phonies when i met them. i wonder how much of what i'm saying is actually what i want. i say that i need to be engulfed in art and what i feel and surrounded by people who are with me, but how many of those people are just fake? and how fake would i appear to them? sometimes i feel so goddamn fake it is disgusting. what is it that i have shown to demonstrate that i am not a goddamn phony. holden caufield would look right through me.