Learning to let go.

I must learn to let go of every thing. It is something that I have struggled with my entire life. Material things... that's the first step. But, I have recently learned from the way of Shankara (a Hindi mystical author) that we also must learn to let our senses go, as well. The world is all an illusion... constantly evolving- how I was when I woke up this morning is not the same as how I am at this current moment. The tree outside of this window is constantly evolving- leaves living toward death. Just like me. Just like you.

Ah, life confuses me. It has so many questions, and no answers. Warning: paradox. Why do we even pose questions? Can't we just accept things as they are, and just... be? Ah, but that would defeat the purpose of living. If we were all just... here. Being. Slash, not being. We exist, but don't at the same time. It's something that nobody in their right mind could ever truly comprehend.

But I want to. I really, really want to wrap my (metaphorically speaking... always... especially since I am talking about letting go of my senses) mind around this way of life. And way of being. Will I ever reach this point? Will I be trapped in the quicksand of materialism? Senses?

You know- I actually can recall a moment where I accomplished this. Last winter.
I realized... so many things, and it almost made me want to not do anything. I felt like I was playing through the motions, because I 'just had to do it to get by until everything was over.' Living was a trip. Living was 'pointless.' Living had... no meaning. Religion had no purpose. Everything was dull. So dull that I literally didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to sit in my room and rot. I still showered, I still went to classes, I still worked out, I still talked to my family- but it all felt unnatural. Everything around me was... nothing. Nothing around me was everything. I felt so negative, being desensitized. I never wanted to kill myself- I felt like I already had. Is that what Shankara is promoting? It was almost... hopeless. Smiling wasn't fun. Crying was never there. I didn't enjoy sleeping or staying awake. I was just... there. Here.
Is that what being dead feels like? I felt like I was a walking corpse. Lifeless, emotionless, careless.

Empty.

That was it.

Absolutely bare. Empty.
Even though it sounds like misery, I am looking back, it actually sounds like a way to be at peace with yourself. Nothing around you really matters. It's just that, 'things happen,' and that's all that matters. You walk around in a haze, not really minding or paying attention to life projecting by.

I want to feel empty.
Wish me luck.

Hej hej,
Any

The needn't a title.

I AM GOING BONKERS AND DOING A CLOSE READING ON EVERYTHING THAT IS OCCURRING IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW.

Must mean I am a writing student.

Sorry for the 'meaningless' posts lately. I'll have something 'good' and 'thoughtful' soon enough. Promises.

Hej hej,

Any

I have been thinking:

Is Hermes the new Mr. Darcy? I kinda hope not. Actually, I really hope this doesn't happen. At all. Which is weird.

I hope you're following me here. If you aren't, get lost. If you are, thanks.

Real-personal journal entry from this morning:

Oh my god.
Oh my god.
It's all I keep saying in my head.
Looking up at you. Here. It's great.
Butterflies.
___ ----
I'm so cliche.
Now you're gone. And the awkward glances no longer happen.

Oi.

Hej hej,

Any

Spam.

Those who attempted to post spammy comments... I'd like to let you know that I much prefer honey baked ham.

Don't try to outwit me and comment my work with links to porn sites.

Yeesh. So many rejection comments lately... no legitimate commentary from the public.

Hej hej,

Any

This is for ( )

Foreword: I love writing these.

__________________

Jealousy. That is what grows inside of me everyday. All because of you. And I am jealous of you. Not just because of you. Jealous of your confidence. Jealous of your boldness. Jealous of your ability to be foreword. Jealous of your figure. Jealous that you can make moves. It didn't bother me... until recently. And now, I am going to use you- you as my motivation. To be like you. To be better than you. Because I am a creep, and I have analyzed your moves, and I know your ways. Your processes- you move too fast. I think, once I am 'better' than you, I can perfect it... I can do better than you. Just you wait. The prize is at the finish line- you don't even know you're racing for it. If you get to it first, I'll snatch it from right under your nose.

Because I already know how to be better than you.


-------------

We all talk about you. All of the time. Everyone brings up your name, your name provides smiles. We love you. It's not in a sexual way, it's in a sisterly way. Don't be worried.
I don't know what it is exactly, be we just want to pinch your face and saw "aaaawww" every time we see you, every time we talk to you. All around sound guy, you are someone I hope to know for the rest of my life. I know from time to time I seem a bit much, but you're getting used to me (I hope). Well, I really don't know what else to say about you, other than the fact that long "aaaawww" echoes in my mind every time you're brought up. End creep status.

-------------

Afterword: I wish I had enough to write more, but the first exhausted me.

Hej hej,

Any

My luck feels like a good omen.

That glass shattered. Absolutely all over the floor this morning. Eh, what an idiot, I thought to myself. Well, that's what I get for not putting the dishes away. Now that I heard this, in a moment of panic, I swung my legs off the side of my bed, dangled there for a second, then slid off, and began to pick up the pieces... at 7:45 in the morning of my holiday off from schoolwork.

It wasn't meant to be, sleeping in. I don't think you ever get to sleep in when you make the note of "sleeping in tomorrow morning because it's a holiday," the day before. No sir. Why not go back to sleep? you say. Well, the sunbeams are leaking through the blinds, and once I see daylight, my body wakes up. Unfair, I know. I have to be extremely exhausted to want to curl back into bed.

I at least know that this breaking wasn't bad luck... but wait? Was I proposing a toast in my dream? Oh no.
Superstitions getting the best of me.
Well, now that I am awake, maybe it was a good thing. I can try to get some things taken care of...

Hej hej,

Any

Thunderthought.

Since when
did claiming men
become
such a trend?


Hej hej,

Any

Let's just say that it has been put to rest.

It was all due to a dream. If you can recall back to my post, (Like a) high school diary entry, I had something that put it in stone that it is never going to happen. I had the most vivid dream about this... person. Before I get into it, I must tell you the dream. This way, you can be 'in-the-know' and on the same page as me.

I was taken by bus, a school bus, to be exact, to be dropped off at a recreational park after a long journey from an unknown place. I knew exactly where this park was- it's a few miles from my home (in California), and I usually was dropped off there when I got back from summer camp. I had quite a few things to carry with me, so I began to debate whether or not to walk home or take a (public transit) bus.

I spotted a bulliten board with many articles and flyers sprawled across the cork. What struck my eye was a flyer for Seattle Crew. Why an advertisement for Seattle Crew was being advertised in Southern California is beyond me (I literally thought this in my dream), but then it is in fact a dream, and dreams always have a point. At the bottom of the flyer were pull-tabs that contained an email, phone number, and a little more information, so that one could take with them. Branched away from the right of the flyer were profiles of rowers on the team. Some Harry Potter shit was going on there- the images were moving.

I concentrated on one of the profiles and it started with baby home video. I didn't recognize the face, but soon I became emerged into this persons world. I was essentially living in the moment captured in time. Eventually I learned that the profile I was immersed in was of this boy who has joined our team this year. I am going to call him by a name other than his own, so that he remains as anonymous as me: Hermes.

Hermes' life was moving very fast. I get to his later days- what I see him as now, I learn he knows... the person who I am referring to in (Like a) high school diary entry. He needs a name, too? Mr. Darcy (I am predictable).

Something was odd about Mr. Darcy once I laid eyes on him- he didn't look like how I see him in person, but the face was definitely his. His body wasn't thin- he was muscular, sculpted. Shirtless, and still pale. On his back and sides of his torso were intricate, and beautiful tattoo's of green and blue colors. They weren't exactly flowers, but they were in circular shapes. I was intrigued, and also surprised to see the tattoo's. The most distinctive tattoo that I remember, exactly how it looked, was a beautiful red ribbon that wrapped around the top of his ribcage. So much fine detail into making it look like an actual satin ribbon blew my mind upon observing it. The greatest detail I noticed were that the ends of the ribbon never touched... they didn't "tie" into a bow.

I was sucked out of Hermes' profile/ living images as soon as I started to observe this "ribbon" and stood on the sidewalk of the park, then decided I should walk home with my heavy bags, and think about what I had witnessed.

It's quite easy to see what this means. I discussed this dream with a friend, and the main thing about this dream really is the red ribbon. This red ribbon... red is obviously a color of passion and sexual impulses (blunt)- also shame. But, the fact that this ribbon did not tie... indicated it is never going to happen. No "tying the knot" for the two of us. Me going home with all of my heavy bags (though a short, but semi-long distance) is that it'll take some time to unload these "feelings" I have for Mr. Darcy. And, it's true, now that it's getting to my head.

As for Hermes... who knows what he was doing in there.

Well, I must go and get ready for my day. I wish I could share more with you. But, the risk of revealing details leaking out are high.

Hej hej,

Any

And now that October has passed.

I always hate the day after Halloween. Always. It means you have to pull down your decorations, your excessiveness, and your trueness. At least for me it feels that way. You can keep your pumpkins, so long as they aren't carved. It's safe to know the pumpkin flavored special items at stores will stick around a little longer, even after October... but Halloween is gone. That entire month, building up to it's last night- dressing up, showing off, no matter how off you may be, you can be regarded as keeping it real.

I feel like the world needs more Halloweens- or, even better, Octobers. It allows people to justify their inner-crazy. Some people need that, as they usually fear of being ridiculed. Bye, bye, October. The leaves are almost gone off the trees. The wind is picking up. The nights are chillier. Bye, bye, October.

Hej hej,

Any