My Catharsis, All Mine

So I've not blogged in... quite a long time. I've actually got no one to apologize for but myself, or perhaps this blog who has probably been feeling quite lonely. I haven't visited this blog for so long that Google Chrome doesn't even auto-complete the URL anymore. That, I find quite sad.

It's just that there was a lot of school stuff that needed doing, and I've had to churn out essay after essay after essay, so now writing feels like such a chore. I've gotten A's on quite a few papers though, so I guess that has to count for something.

It's not just that, though. I think the main reason for me not posting anything here is... I'm running. Running from my own thoughts; afraid of what might come to the surface if I start jotting down the superficial ones.

Running. Bad habit. If only I could be arsed to do it in a literal way, then perhaps it'd be more productive.

There are days, however, when one realizes that the running has to stop at some point; that demons must be faced and dealt with. That, or one may simply be out of energy. I don't know which stage I'm at. Could be a combination of the two. Either way, I've decided to face the feckers.

With writing comes catharsis. But the process isn't entirely painless. Writing helps bring order to thoughts that otherwise mull about aimlessly on the surface. But organizing those reveals the even wilder chaos that lurks beneath. Few are brave enough to face that chaos willingly; I am not one of them. I run because I don't want to glimpse whatever is hidden in the recesses of my mind. I don't know what I'm afraid of, really. Compared to most people, my personal demons are not particularly vicious. But that still doesn't change the fact that I feel like bolting every few seconds even as I write this. Every bit of me is screaming at me to go do something else that is more fun - something mindless - anything. Just not this.

I'm listening to music to drown out the protests.

I've also stopped updating my diary. Another bad habit. I've got plenty of diaries from years past that were just discontinued quite abruptly. Then one day, I feel well enough again to pick up a pen and write about my life, and then the process begins again. I feel like this is a cycle that must be broken.

What is it with me? What is it that I'm so afraid of? Sticks and stones can break bones, words will never hurt (except they can), but thoughts can drag one down in ways one can't even begin to imagine.

What am I afraid of?

I don't know.

I just run. I try and keep myself busy, but the thoughts catch up eventually. And dark thoughts have a tendency to become even more vicious when one tries to suppress them.

I wish this update could be cheerier. But then that wouldn't be helpful to me at all, would it?

I knew there would be a price to pay for me choosing to take Philosophy. It's always like this. One has to take the madness that comes with the nuggets of wisdom. It's a wonder my philosophy teacher hasn't gone insane. Oh, wait...

So what am I afraid of?

I know who I am and I know that might (and most likely will) change. I know what I'm capable of and what I am not. I know that some memories hurt; but just like ordinary blades they will eventually dull and lose their ability to cause pain. I know that everything changes. I know that no matter how much I want to hold on to old things I have to learn to let go. I know all too well the pain that comes from watching (or worse; letting) opportunities saunter by.

I know, and I feel.

What am I so afraid of?

I should maybe stop running. One must stand still in order to kick asses.

Old quote, but I feel that it fits.

An artist is a creature driven by demons. He doesn't know why they choose him and he's usually too busy to wonder why.

- William Faulkner

Quotes and No Apology

I love quotations because it is a joy to find thoughts one might have, beautifully expressed with much authority by someone recognized wiser than oneself.
- Marlene Dietrich

Emo Forrest Gump:
When Forrest said life was like a box of chocolates, was he saying that life is a cheap and unoriginal present that's only truly enjoyable for a maximum of three days?
- John Brodish

All human beings should try to learn before they die what they are running from, and to, and why.
- James Thurber

One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory.
- Rita Mae Brown

My name is Alice and I remember everything.
- Alice (Resident Evil)

Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange.
- Alphonse Elric (Full Metal Alchemist)

Man is a tragic animal. Not because of his smallness, but because he is too well endowed. Man has longings and spiritual demands that reality cannot fulfill. We have expectations of a just and moral world. Man requires meaning in a meaningless world.
- Peter Wessel Zapffe

It's hard to pretend like you don't care when you actually do.
It's hard to pretend like you care when you actually don't.




And yes, btw. I am alive.

Who's Back?

It's back.

Just in time for the holiday I hate the most.

For love is no part of the dream-world. Love belongs to desire, and desire is always cruel.

- SANDMAN #9: "Tales in the Sand"

Like Eggs Being Beaten

Yes, it's been a while, I know.

There have been a lot of things going on, but I just haven't got the energy to update. Well actually I do. If I didn't have any energy left I'd be lying in bed instead of sitting here boring the life out of me. It's just that… as my rambling would suggest, my thoughts haven't been in order lately. And I'm just not used to that.

Well… I am. My thoughts have never been in proper order anyway, but there used to be at least a certain logic/order to the usual chaos. But now… thoughts are meshed together. I can't even tell where one ends or where the other begins. I worry about my future – nitpicking details about events that still lie out of reach… I run from past ghosts which, for some reason, chose to unearth themselves right at this moment. I cling to the present - a feeble attempt to hold on to my sanity. (That may perhaps be a bit too extreme… But I am actively trying to focus only on the present. It's like balancing on the edge of a knife, either way I fall—where have I heard that line before? Was it Doctor Who?)

The point is, I want to stop thinking… about things that have yet to come, and about things that have already come to pass. I can't change the past, so why fret about it?

As Master Oogway said, "Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery – but today is a gift. That is why they call it the present."

Gotta love Master Oogway.

PS: Because of excessive Torchwood, my mind's voice is now Welsh. So this entire blog post was read to me in that beautiful sing-song accent. It's just sad that whenever I try to speak with such an accent out loud, it sounds like the bastard child of Scottish and Irish (with a touch of Jamaican). Ah well. Whatever.

My thoughts seemed to have regained some kind of order now. That's good.

Posted from Word07

[EDIT: I checked, and the quote about the knife is actually from LoTR. Lady Galadriel said; "The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail. But hope remains, if friends stay true."]

In Which The Authoress Experiments With Word07

One can supposedly blog from Word07, but let's see.

First things first – I am bored. Bored out of my fecking mind. And I have a cold!! So suffice to say, I cannot think properly right now.

Is it possible to die of boredom? Or at least be in a boredom-induced coma. I would be so bloody thankful if that were possible.

Anyway, I'm rambling on. I feel as though my thoughts have been chucked in to a blender to make a thought omelette. Nothing makes sense, but strangely enough everything does – if you find the right angle.

I should go…

Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory.

• Albert Schweitzer