Day of the V

I find that my procrastinatory skill is directly proportional to the frequency of my blog posts.

I don't want to go to school today. At all.

So. Here I am, making weird faces at myself in the mirror one minute and having intellectual/highly wrathful albeit imaginary conversations with people the next.

Oh... to be young and schizophrenic.

Anyway.
It's V-Day.
And you know what THAT means!
A thanksgiving day full of angry-yelling, eye-rolling, and anti-love-picture-making emos who are basically just embarrassingly cliché.

Unfortunately, I will not grace you with my appreciation of that sort.

I love Valentimes Day.

I don't know why, really.

It might have been that I was conditioned to liking it after all those years of artistic box-making in K-6... We got CANDY.
I think my subconscious mind still expects it or something.

But really. I do love this day. I think it's adorable. I get so happy for everyone. So many splashes of red across campus. A few black-clad stragglers. It's awesome.
An entire day, every year, to show that one person how much you love them and are willing to spend buckets of monies to prove it??
Romantic.

Gah.

I wish people felt love more often. It's such a nice feeling.

Sometimes the Blues is just a Passing Bird

I’m just a dreamer but I’m hanging on
Though I have nothing big to offer
I watch the birds, how they dive in, then gone
It’s like nothing in this world’s ever still

-Tallest Man on Earth








I can't seem to find it. 
Balance, I mean.


My attempt at soaring is beginning to dwindle due to the fact that I don't actually have any wings.


Sometimes I fear I will be unsuccessful and becoming the truest I can be.


I have a sinking feeling it will not be in this lifetime.


And yet my heart still tries.


One thing I know for a certainty, is that no matter what I say, I will never be able to resist my own inclinations to live. I can't stop. I can't stop the muscles in my body to move. I can't stop the sparks of recognition in my brain to electrify. I can't stop the yearning in my heart for reality.

I can't stop searching for the best plan of action to take.


What I really am saying is... I still care about my people.
I don't know how to be and not offend.
I don't know how to live and not push those I love most away.
I don't KNOW anything.


I am surviving on hope that they will come back to the light. Come back to love. Come back to the very thing I use to believe that they will.

In my mind, Truth is what sets us free. Every good thing is a manifestation of truth's existence.
Faith
Hope
Laughter
Love

My truth for them is not enough. My faith, my hope, my laughter, my love.... It's never enough because they don't truly want it.

It's amazing what your heart will do to your mind when you let it settle on something.
It's equally amazing that we have power enough to decide where we want it to settle.

The Wrong Way

I look at life the wrong way.
Not that there is a right way... but there are definitely wrong ways.

Sometimes, as I get into my darkly cyclical thought processes that we all create in our minds, I feel pure frustration with myself.
I'm frustrated that at the end of a previous intense modification of "way of life," I seem to come to a conclusion.
And then I end up right back where I started- questioning, doubting, yelling, not understanding, not clicking.

I can't seem to keep myself at a constant level of understanding with my life and love and friends and family and God and religion. I can't stay calm, as if chaos is inevitable.

Entropy?

But today, I realized that I needed to do some meta-cognition. How do I approach my own thought?

I go into my own thinking with an expectation that I WILL be happy, I WILL understand, I WILL work the puzzles of life out in my mind.

Of course, those notions fail.

Because the human mind in all its glory is curious and suspicious and ambitious.

It is beautiful.

And that is where I should get back to. The fact that I have crazy ideas, ideas that I pull and scrape and claw at for days at a time is beauty in and of itself. The fact that I can think at all must be some work of art....

Those dark cycles we get in? Take a step back. Look at it for what it is? A mind. Trying to unravel itself while keeping the structure of sanity intact.

Frustration is an intrigue by nature.
The attempt for comprehension is valiant on its own.

My wrong thinking resides in how I feel about my thinking.
Here's one correct way of thinking:

Be okay with it. 

Use the power of curiosity and intrigue to take allow in yourself a quiet peace of mind.
oh? (What? There's a choice in that too?)

Maybe that's where true happiness is found: in the quiet acceptance of one's own mind.

 The calm realization that your mind has reigns, and you are holding them. That sometimes your mind gets spooked, excited, curious, or hungry... Your mind has natural, regular, possibly dark tendencies... but you can lead it where you want IF you want.


It's weird to think that we usually get answers... The trouble is accepting them or not.