Tag Archives: Sad

Narrating my life as if I’m a separate character because I’m losing my mind.

“Deep down, he had the fear. That he really didn’t care. That he cared that he didn’t care. That it would all come crashing down upon him. That everyone was right. He was wasting his time. His dreams, delusional; his actions, unproductive. His time, running out. Fearful of being crippled with inevitability. That all he had stood for up to this point was a mere facade; a way to keep from ‘growing up’. What was it about that attitude that had repulsed him so before, but which seemed inevitable now? Was it foolishness? Or the fire he needed to keep himself going? Was he crazy? Or was he right? Why was it that he had thought himself talented before? Was it justified? Or merely a childlike escapism, the only way to keep his spirit from being crushed?

Why did he spend so much time on his spirit, anyway? What was so important about it? Didn’t real life matter? What kind of point was he trying to make? What did it really matter? Was his heart yearning for something more real? Or was he lying to himself, making excuses, to keep from reading the writing on the wall? When would he know that it had been written?; or, even, if it had been written at all?

Suddenly, the life he had loathed, and tried to avoid for so long, was here. It was alluring. It was easy, even if unfulfilling. But how easy was it if it was truly unfulfilling?

The 9 to 5, and the sixpack. It was staring him cold in the face. Would the alcohol be enough to dull the lamentation from regret? Would it be enough to drown out the sorrows of natural difficulties? Would he need to ‘grow up’, or remain in his childlike construct of imagination? Would his escape be the very thing that haunted him so, but that which he desired the most?: his drive for success, and his artistic visions, despite the natural obstacles and his own limitations which got in the way of his dreams? Would he ever be as good as he hoped? As rich as he hoped? Or would he be delegated to the unknown?; Or, merely, the notoriously bad and unsuccessful?

All he knew for sure was that when the fire burned, it BURNED, and he was grateful for that. He hoped that the fire would keep him warm enough from the cold of uncertainty, and alive enough from the suicide of lazy, fearful, and ignorant, yet innocent, dejection…”

Writing.

Sanity.

Fiction.

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A Short Message (with a Necessarily Long Title) Regarding my Personal Opinions About Comedy Amid A Terribly Distressing Existence (as well as an Insight into my Hypersensitive Nature)

Occasionally, I feel the need to write something stupid. No doubt, I do not need to try very hard at this. But I am well aware of how far behind other readers and writers I am as far as intellectual depth is concerned.

Although I hope to increase my reading comprehension and knowledge of the world, I know that there will always be someone lightyears ahead of me as far as understanding of the world through books is concerned. And although I’m aware that knowledge isn’t a competition, this still, no doubt, causes uneasiness within me, because of the realization of how much education I’m missing out on. It makes me angry, on an insanely personal level, because I really enjoy learning, and having that slowed down because of other things that I don’t understand, or contemplating how many things there are in the world that I just can’t grasp, makes me angry.

The idea of mental limitations makes me angry. It makes me angry to contemplate that there are some things that I want to understand that I just won’t ever be able to understand. Not things which are impossible to understand, but things that are certain. Unshakable facts that I will never be able to comprehend. That “unshakable fact” pisses the Hell out of me, and I’ll never be able to understand why, exactly, those limitations are in place…

However, despite my intense passion for learning, and my aggravation regarding what it is that I do not know, sometimes, simply for humor’s sake, I enjoy creating stupid things.

The stupid things are simply that: a humorous “break”, I suppose. Laughter is, thankfully, a universal positive-emotion booster for humankind. Laughter simply makes one feel good. And, on a side note, I believe that my hypersensitive sense of humor derives from my hypersensitive sense of shittiness. I am smart enough to know that shit is there, so I can’t just “ignore it” or “let it go”, because I’m not that ignorant. However, the shittiness is, often, too complex and overwhelming to solve, so to keep from going to a mad level of lethal, suicidal depression, I make myself laugh. And based on how often I make myself laugh, there are, no doubt, a plethora of depressing complex problems that I cannot solve…

…I suppose that I was hoping that this would be longer, but I believe that I have said all I need to say, and, rather surprisingly, I said it rather succinctly…

…That is unlike me.

Maybe my brain and language communication are getting smarter afterall…

Hallefuckinglujah

Insightful.

Writing.

Intelligence.

Videos that can only be categorized as “Comedy”.

Jokes.

My Mountain Dew’s gone :(

Where you can financially support me if you so desire (T-shirts included; please share all of these links).

Videos that can only be categorized as “Comedy”.

Funny (and sad) pussy…

The funny (and sad) thing is, being funny (and depressed) doesn’t get you more pussy, funny enough (and sadly).

#RobinWilliams ?

Women (reader discretion is advised).

Fem.

This sad, sad existence that we live in in which those with problems project them onto other people as if it is those other people that have the problem. A sad, sad reality of human nature that exacerbates into many problems if one does not have a healthy sense of self-esteem (meaning too low; being Hell from the person mentioned below onto the one with low self-esteem).

I feel sad for people with mental problems.

Lack of intelligence with an inferiority problem resulting in foolish pride is the most tragic of all mental problems.

They’re all bad though: envy, the desire to kill (probably the worst), etc.

Ignorance (a problem).

Christianity (maybe some good news in here?)

Liberalism (just a lost cause, I’m afraid).

Libertarianism and Capitalism (freedom).

Skepticism (ALWAYS valuable: even among opponents).

A quote that I wrote a long time ago (I don’t remember how long ago)

“There are some people that don’t like authors or musicians or other artists that create sad things, things that make people mad, or things that scare people. They only want people to create ‘happy’ things. It’s not fucking human. It’s not fucking real. Show me some pain, and I’ll love it. Show me a story that isn’t real that has tried to force a happy ending, and I’ll bet it’s garbage.”

Offend the Fuck Out of People.

Excerpt from “Torture”.