ssss

tipity tap tap type.. fingers on the keys of my keyboard dance in a circle my mind spins for a week without sleep and i don't know what it means...

Dawn... Birth... A blood red sky... A newborn day... Same as the last.

A man woke up. He got out of bed, dressed himself and crossed his room to a door whereabouts he stopped. He stared at the door. It was white wooden door with a wooden door knob. It served as a portal between his bedroom and his bathroom; that was its purpose. It didn't stick or creak when you opened it like other doors might, no, this door did its job well. The man sighed; he envied that door.
"What are you trying to tell me?"
"Nothing i havn't told you before"
"What does this all mean?
"the meaning is irrelavant"
I'm sorry good bye hello this is how we do it uh huh retard go go girls dance in a line looking fine never to be mine hahah isn't this a laff.
Can you touch? Can you feel? Can you live? Can you heal?
So the girl in the painting sits. She sits and stares. No one knows her name. Simply because she doesn't have one. She sits and she cries looking at a ceiling. She hasn't moved for centuries she has seen so much yet she'll never let you in on it. smiling a knowing smile she cries.
Florescent lights and billboards signs advertise a wonderful life, full of effervescent smiles and happy eyes. one sentence must be half decent in all this shit....

Liar

You are weak, you are slow, you are nothing, you are a liar, you sit on your liars chair and lie so you don't have to look, blind your eyes to the truth, are you afraid? Are you scared? you should be. because you know they know, you know so what do you do? you lie some more, and you lie to yourself, build the a wall of lies so no one has to look upon the pathetic shrivelled two faced shit covered human refuse you are. But take hope, you aren't alone, because every one is a liar, we all lie to ourselves, how else would we get by? how else would we get up in the morning?? we lie to ourselves today will be a good day, and we go home the same, angry and disenchanted, pissed with school, people and life. and we lie. So lie...

A Question with no Answer.

People are fickle, like the wind,

You never know what they'll blow

I wonder what is purpose? Is anything we do really on purpose? Or is everything just a series of accidents? People seem to crave purpose, they will do drastic things to find it and yet, do we really need purpose? Many wondrous things are without purpose. A flower's colours, a butterfly's markings, the way dew crystallizes on the silken strands of a spider's web. People will try and explain to me "Oh the flowers bright colours purpose is to attract bees so they will pollinate" or "The markings are designed to scare off predators." but when they do explain their purpose and i am "enlightened" suddenly the petals become dull and lifeless and the markings are boring, their beauty tainted. To tell the truth I would rather not know their purpose. Label me ignorant and un-enlightened if you wish but I would rather wonder. Half the fun in life is guessing. When I read a novel or go to see a movie I hate it when people spoil the end for me, its such a killjoy. Once you know the punchline of a joke its not so funny anymore is it? People seem to think knowledge is a wonderful thing, it ain't. It a sick joke with a cruel twist that laughs and spits in your face. Its like a drug, the more you have the more fucked up you become. Its more a duty to become knowledgeable. And i thank those willing to take that duty unto themselves because we'd all be frigging backward shit heads and many inventions wouldn't ever have been invented if they hadn't. But in the same don't try and force it on the rest of us, let us revel in our wonder. Let us rejoice in the mysteries of life, let us be astounded and enraptured by the simplest of things like children, ignorance is truly bliss.

Things needn't have purpose to be deemed important. After all the purpose of a question is to find an answer, but is a question with no answer unimportant? No i find they are the most important. So then what indeed is purpose? My friendsit is a question with no answer.

Romantacism of an Artist

How does one value a person? This is the question that i have been thinking these past few days. Is it how intelligent they are? How fast they run? How good they look? What does the world value in people? Morals? Loyalty? In the world today it would seem morals and loyalty are of little value; People should be cut-throat if they want to get ahead. I sit here thinking as a teenager how I am valued, Who am i valued by? Do people really think that much of me? Am i of as much value as the next fool in line who thinks that they are ever going to make a difference? Now my thinking strays from value to plain significance. What are we to the world? At school i constantly hear teachers talking of how everyone is special and talented yet sometimes i wonder. I look around and see many people who are not really that talented and i wonder what will become of them? Will they leave school and instantly be sucked into the daily grind, another 9 to 5'er, never sad but never truly happy? Will that happen to me? I myself dream of being a musician, someone who writes music that they love and people love. To tour with my band and see the world is my dream and that perhaps somewhere my music is speaking to people. I understand that it will be hard, i was never gifted a music (I failed music every 4 years in a row) nor did I ever care much for it til now. Now music is my life and to think of doing something other than music is something i can't even begin to imagine. People tell me that its just youthful optimism that says I can live this dream, that one day I'm going to have to give it up and go to some office job and be an average Joey. I DON'T WANT THAT! I am going to fight for this! I am going to make it! But then your personal bastard reminds you hey you aren't that good, I mean come on, I type in guitar on you tube and i can see 1000's play guitar more proficiently than you, what makes you so special eh? What does make me so special? Hell, am I even that special? Probably not.. fuck... but hey you know what i'm going to do? I'm going to try. Hell, i'll do more than try, i'll make it, whether you say i can or not all you skeptic bastards out there, you can be lord yourself up with your critiquing but guess what? One day you'll be sitting at home, my friend, you'll be sitting in your unextrodinary home, just getting back from your unextrodinary job, living your unextrodinary life and you'll turn on the t.v. or maybe the radio and guess who'll be there? Guess who that person living the extraodinary will be? That person will be me.

Hello

This blog is the drain pipe in a metaphorical way. To me it is where i can release the ideas that i come up with and record them lest they be forgotten. Don't expect much.