July 11th, 2004

bends head

if i have to give my life, you can have it

mmm 5th wheel. yay.
earlier tonight was fun, at any rate. scattergories and mac'n'cheese. oh and before that i was taking a shower and suddely felt nausous so i sat on the gross shower floor for awhile
this may be because my stomach and/or brain is broken. apparently i dont get hungry anymore, as of today and yesterday. so i don't eat anything until i've been up for hours and figure i probably should, but nothing looks good so i end up having like orange juice and pudding

also: i hate my computer. it seems like a different stupid thing goes wrong every couple days. today, every time i try to delete this certain file (i was downlaoding 12 monkeys, but the torrent died), explorer starts freaking out and i have to restart the computer. dunno

also: the mansion has one or more mice, and they are pooping all over our dishes. at least they're not eating my bread and oatmeal anymore. what the hell are you suposed to do with mice anyway? i saw one exploring the top of our microwave the other day, and i went to get a plastic bag to bring it outside cuz i had no better ideas. but when i got back it was gone

also: the light in my room burned out. it was too late to wake up jeff and see if he had spare bulbs, so i am currently in goth darkness. maybe i'll listen to the cure next

also: a little before graduation i started not posting in here about much of anything that goes on in danworld. just didnt really feel like it. i hope no one thought i was e-snubbing our adventures

lastly: by some good advice i was given today, i am going to (again?) attempt to retire my melodramatic tendencies. here we go. it's tricky though, because saying vague weird emotive things in public is the easiest way to passive-aggressively feel like you're accomplishing something
  • Current Music
    slipknot - vol. 3: (the subliminal verses) - pulse of the maggots
stranded

i just read a fascinating insightful artistic story about unfathomable torture

too much of everything is sad. there are so many beautiful stories out there; why do i read about awful things happening to miserable people? there is rapturous joyous music; why do i listen to depressed people sing about depression?
of course, there is some satisfaction in having something echo your feelings and experiences. if i'm sad i listen to sad music. i don't feel happier, but i feel a little better. who would want to watch a romantic comedy when they are weeping over lost love? and sad art often seems deeper and more meaningful, somehow.
poetics (written, i believe, near the end of highschool)
despair is a farce in writing
sad men with sad thoughts say they are sad
and it is art
happiness is for fools and simpletons
'tis noble to suffer the slings and arrows
to bleed upon the page and choke the reader
and it is art

but imagine if we spent our lives surrounded by beautiful happy things. if sculptures all smiled and every show had a laugh track. probably it wouldn't work for us, but would someone raised in that sort of environment be better off? or would they be an emotional cripple? if they are a happy emotional cripple, what have they lost? some famous person said some famous thing that i forget now, but i will paraphrase it as "it is far better to be a sad man than a content pig". personally, i don't buy this for a second.

in philosophy classes, we have discussed the idea of a happiness machine. basically, it is like the matrix-- you get plugged into a computer and it gives you a splendid fake world for you to splendidly fake live in. or you could stay in the real world and probably spend a lot of time dreadfully badly. would you go with the machine, or real life? most people said real life because just by knowing their life was fake, they would not be able to appreciate it. so what was my answer? i would want to be in the happiness machine, but only if i was put in it without my knowledge. if someone were to break into my room in the middle of the night and plug me in, and i spent the rest of my life in a wonderful computer limbo, i should be very grateful to them.

or maybe this just means i'm a pessimist. instinctually i think i am, but consciously i am an optimist. so i end up spending a lot of my time irrationally convinced things will turn out how i want, but terrified that they won't. such is life.

as a sidenote, i will tell you that, while sometimes it is just idle questions, often when i post my silly pseudo-philosophical whatevers, i am seriously invested in them. these ideas honestly bother me. this is how i think. i won't be satisfied until i have no unanswered questions.
  • Current Music
    birds are chirping outside my window. that probably means it's bedtime