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Trying to write, but nothing comes out.

This will have to do.



If any of this makes sense please message me



Why can’t people always be in the right mood at the right time? The world would be such a better place. I hate it when I get in that mood where I want to do something but I’m too lazy to actually go do it. Then I’m freakin’ miserable. Why is there such a mood? I wish I was in the mood to write. I want to become a write, but cannot put myself in the mood to write when the subject to write is available. For instance right now I am forcing myself to write, but yesterday going to my brothers graduation I had the biggest urge to write but had no paper. I wonder if it had anything to do with not wanting to go to the graduation?

I also want to become good at playing my guitar. Again I am never in the mood to play it.

WHY MUST LIFE TOY WITH ME?



If anyone has the answer please, I beg you, tell me so I can stop going crazy. If I keep at the level I’m going now, I will amount to noting.



I want to be SOMETHING, but I don’t now how.

I have two more years to decide what I want to be, and I’m not sure that is enough because I don’t know how to find out what and who I am.



Someone help me. I don’t ask for help much. I just need a push in the right direction.

I don’t even know why I’m asking for help….

COMMENTS

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Menagerie
04:43 Apr 21 2008

ha. three years later... still not a clue what i want to do.

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POST COMMENT

Forgive me dear Journal for neglecting your trust. I have left you to rot while I explored other’s journals. But wait no longer, for I have come back with my essay, on the death grip called love. Bear in mind, dear readers, that in which you will read, I wrote in the 9th grade, and I have put more emotion into it than I truly have. But dear reader, I do for the most part believe what I wrote and am willing to debate on the thoughts of others. If your view is different than mine, feel free to commit. If your view is roughly the same, I would be intrigued by your feedback. I am just a simple girl looking for the truth, which I know is out there somewhere, hiding from me.

With out anymore babble, I present to you my exposition. May it be to your likening.



Love



Love; a menacing, deceitful, maleficent, addictive, maniacal, contradictive, and meaningless phenomenon. Evidently I have never had the pleasure of Love’s gentle touch. Then again, when has love ever been gentle? Love and Hate are brothers; twins even, from the womb of Infatuation. I’ve seen Love prey upon my desiring friends, just to be set up for his brother Hate. Love is not happiness, but love is ignorance. These are my personal beliefs. If you wish to live your life a beguiling and myopic lie then go ahead and love. After all, it is not my life so why would I care?

No, I have not experienced love and I do not intend to, but who better to explain the changes of love than one that has not been tampered with by love? How can the imperceptive lead the cretinous? Would a blind man lead the eyeless to safety? No more than a lover can preach the true changes of love.

I have my eyes, and my ears were not put on my head just to make me look like Dumbo attempting to fly. I can see the changes love makes in people, and I observe as they describe their lover as “so sweet” and “the perfect match.” My senses can also tell me that this perfectly sweet match is not as indefectible and saccharine as they envision. I can see that their lover is a druggie bum, a double-crossing scoundrel, or just an obscene jerk.

When love decides to grace you with its prescience, no matter what you were like before, you will become euphoric, continuously blissful, and always have that special someone on your mind even if that special someone is a blithering idiot. You ignore their faults, and magnify their merits. That is the way love is, blinding like when someone turns off the lights and all you see is complete darkness until your eyes adjust, and they will adjust. Some times your eyes take too long to accommodate to the light and before you know it you have bumped into the furniture or tripped over a pile of junk that you have been meaning to trash for years. When your eyes finally adapt to love and you see the person for what they really are, and you change yet again. First you were this innocent little child, and then you become an oblivious love struck pup seemingly forever in a reputable mood. Now, you have realized that you were obstructed and Love has fled from you allowing Hate to take the place of his dear brother and fill your heart. Denial, anger, and depression, the three conditions of hate, are equally paradox to the characteristics that you feel while in love.

Vile as love is the changes that love creates are inevitable. You cannot deny the changes love will shower down upon you no matter if you are in love, suffer from a broken heart, or see through the incongruous that is love. To prove my point that love changes all whom come across it I will enlighten you on one more ideal. Again I will divulge that I do not desiderate love, but I am still changed by love because I choose not to believe in love. If I believed in love I would not feel the way I do about certain issues such as marriage. Obviously, if I do not believe in love then why would I even consider getting married? Children, unacquainted with life and unknowing of the cataclysm that life brings forth, always masquerade as wedded couples and I was not omitted from these misleading charades. I too enjoyed dressing up and pretending that I was conjoined with Mr. John or Mr. Smith not knowing the true significance of what being married meant. Presently I am not a child and I know that marriage is the bonding of two people who presume they are in love. As soon as I realized what love was, corruption, I immediately dropped the ridiculous fantasy of ever getting married, changing my whole perspective on life. I believe that life is too short to be wasted in trying to find the “perfect match.” Then again, a lover would say life is too long without the “perfect match.” Who is right? I cannot say, but I know that in a lover and in me Love has reaped change upon us.



Ok well that is that, message me if you have commits or feedback, I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you for reading. I am greatly humbled by your wasting of time, to read my journal.

DAMN IT! I HATE IT! “Love,” It’s all bullshit. I have never understood why idiots torment themselves and those around them with this crap. I wrote an article about love once. Merhaps I’ll share it with you lovelies one day, that is if anyone reads this. For now, I wish to get out my anger at my “friend.” I had hoped that my first entry would be about me and why I choose to create this account, but anger always comes first. I know a lot of people that most would consider friends, but I truly only have one friend, or at least I though I did. We consider each other sisters, but recently I’ve been getting tired of her bullshit. She’s no fun anymore because she’s so self-absorbed in her lack of confidence. Then there are her guys. Right now she has this one guy that she swears she “loves” even though she truly has not met him. She’s willing to fuck our friendship over some guy she has never seen (who by the way she cheated on with at least one other guy) GET YOUR FUCKING HORMONES IN CHECK!

Wow. A cockroach type bug is just randomly crawling through my house.

Ok this is what happened, I was talking to her boyfriend and he made some discreet commits about wanting to fuck her. I ignored the first two, I know how much he means to her, but I decided to just ignore him because I couldn’t take it. The next thing I know she’s yelling at me, I quote, “he means the most to me....and i cannot believe that if you are mad at him for one joking comment.” FUCK her, and FUCK him. I just want to be a hermit, but I know I can’t. There is no way I can live alone and away because humans are freakin’ herd animals. I’m tired of writing.



~Menagerie