Live | eviL

Such a fancy way of saying, a brief look at my many random thoughts. I tend to say a lot of things for effect, when I feel like saying anything at all. I figure, if I talk less it will give my words more meaning and if I word my words in a unique way, it will give them more reason to be heard.

Give simple words and decent ideas more impact as well as make them more enticing… I need to put this simple social philosophy into practice more frequently, or at least the latter half. I already barely talk, so when I say something I’m …sure people listen, but I do need to work on the curving, twisting, and manipulating of the wording part quite a bit.
‘Cause I’ll end up taking things out of context to an excess, to the point of butchering the English language like I did with the whole “plethora phantasmagoria” part.
But to anyone who can read and decides to read this: you catch my drift, and a drift is a drift regardless of which way it’s drifting.

Blahhh, all that for ten dollars and a couple speed that I should already have if I wasn’t so bad at managing my shit. Which doesn’t even make up for all the money I spent last night. Hopefully I’ll see some of that money I spent again soon, if people keep there word, but when have I ever had a good reason to actually trust other people?

At least I got to see that lovely little Chiquita, who seemed even more down in the dumps than I do today. Gotta find a way to fix that some how, without any kind of chemical substances to substitute for the brief recurring moments of happiness; those moments that should be coming and going frequently regardless, but for some reason seems to have, for lack of a better word, forsaken a great number of us.

If I wasn’t so tired, I’d probably do another long rant about how unjust the world can be, but right now I just want to be temporarily happy/content and I hope other people (or at least one person in particular) can find some way to be temporarily happy/content in the mean time as well.

At least I have a lot of vodka left over so I can temporarily be the alcoholic I will become in the future if the whole military thing doesn’t work out. Blahh, tired, bored, not content at all. Please shed some of that light on my little surreal bubble of a reality, Universe. I’d really appreciate a break. =_=


Random thought: maybe I’ll finally start working on my metaphysical, psychological, philosophical, introspective as well as extrospective, Manifesto.

Or to be more specific, maybe I’ll start working on it again, in a more structured and organized manner, while taking speed regularly, so I can actually make decent progress without erasing it all after a few short unsatisfying excerpts of mental vomit. If not now, sometime soon, because it’s one of those things that I have a gut feeling telling me at some point in my life I really need to do this, as if my body knows it’s written into the coded fabric of my fate.

Maybe my Manifesto is all I end up leaving behind after I’m gone, and it will be the difference I contribute to the world, or maybe it will only be read by a small number of people. Either way it feels like something I must to do. (My sister really enforced the word Manifesto into my head, when I described it to her once, so I guess that’s what it will be. A Manifesto seems to be precisely what I intend to create, so why bother calling it anything else, I suppose.)

-End of Daily Rant, even though I specifically said I wouldn’t rant today. I guess it’s not a rant about how everything’s unjust as per usual, but it’s a rant none the less. Blah, fuck my impulsive need to devour ideas and knowledge, then regurgitate them to whoever is willing to listen….. The End, El Fin, Sfarsit, Die Ende, Konec, Terminus, etc…-

I turn my hopes up to the sky
I’d like to know before I die
Memories will slowly fade
I lift my eyes and say
Come on, take me away
Come on, take me away

Woke up after my first night sleeping since I took 3 and a half tabs of acid. My urge to smoke cigarettes has completely vanished. My urge to take speed has vanished, which is good since I’ve used up over half of my supply in less than a week and I need to start saving them or selling them. I feel different, slower a bit yes, but mostly because of my lack of sleep the past week.
I just wish that my trip had been better, I feel like I ruined some of it for the other trippers. What should I expect though? I’m an unstable person without it, of course I’m going to be unstable on it. The lingering feeling of hatred for someone because of memories that may or may not be completely delusional are still there. I don’t think I’d remember them if they weren’t significant, but at the same time the person would never admit to it so I guess I’ll just ignore it since for all I know it never happened…
Even if it had, why should I care? It’s not exactly my place…

Tripping always feels better afterward. Whether I have a bad trip or not, I always appreciate everything so much more during the days that follow.

— not even our troubles.”


I’ll try to help you, but maybe I’m just making things worse. Maybe I don’t deserve the hope and comfort you bring. Maybe two really depressed people aren’t exactly the best people to be hanging out alone for a whole day.
I just don’t fucking understand why such terrible things happen to people who don’t deserve it. What kind of fucking bullshit is that? Why the fuck are there all these dumb little assholes able to get everything they want and be so fucking happy, while the few actually decent people are put through hell?… Is this hell? To be honest, not even that would surprise me anymore. It’d actually make more sense than these surreal lives we live while pretending it’s reality.

FUCK.
I can’t stand to be so helpless. I can’t stand waiting for things to change. I can’t stand not being able to fix even a little bit.
And most importantly, I can’t stand to see her so upset.

Here I am writing afterward, but while I could have actually done something all I could do was keep her company and sit there like a fucking asshole trying to not break down, acting stronger than I really am and lying to everyone including myself. I’m so fucking pathetic… But even that can’t last forever. I’ll find a way to make things better, even if that means if some people are better off without me. I really hope it never comes to that, because I’ve never known someone to be able to make me feel so alive- with all of the pros and cons. It’s so much greater than the low flat line that’s been my depressing and bland life for so long.
“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.”

Ranting again because I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep for another two days or so- unless I manage to get a few hours of sleep this morning. I’ll probably end up deleting this after I finally get some sleep and wake up all refreshed like, because I’m tired of being such a whiny bitch.

Can’t sleep. Too much on my mind, as per usual… As if I enjoy being awake at 4:30 in the morning and I’ll probably be awake for yet another couple hours.

I sometimes wonder about fate and the original meaning of my name, ‘cause when you say the meanings instead of my name it means.
“Man, Of The Earth - Appointed - To conquer or Die”
                          or
“The First - Chosen - To Fight.”
 obviously, it could be switched up a bit more, but those are the two primary definitions of each of my names. I just find it really weird, because I learned this after I decided that I want to make a career for myself in the military, hopefully in active combat as an officer, once I finish 3-4 years of college. Really thought provoking…

I think everybody should look up the origins of their name/names and see how closely related it is to their personality or what they hope to accomplish in life. But don’t mind me, I’m just speedin’. When I’m speeding or when I’m sleep deprived, I write rants about random bullshit, as whoever pays attention to my tumblr or has me a as a friend on facebook would testify.

So dehydrated my ear popped and won’t un-pop. Heh.
I kept up with three guys on long boards while riding my regular street board for hours. I think if I worked out more and went on the most intense diet (instead of my binging and starving diet) I’d be a pretty beast person. I smoke more cigarettes than all of them combined and I’m not exactly in shape either. Kind of proud of myself, but two years ago I’d have been able to leave em all in the dust, with or without their long boards.

Makes me feel like an old man, all nostalgic-like. I think I’ll get a gym membership once I get a new job or something…

I’m gonna go break something. Maybe that will cheer me up.

 dreading the upcoming challenges. Loathing the thought of that single moment when the obstacles that lie in wait come into full view. Despising the unmerciful clock, for not slowing even just slightly while I try to gauge the amount of stress held by future events that are incredibly soon to come and soon to pass.
      While simultaneously I persistently and stubbornly continue to entertain and pursue these naive and overly optimistic wanton hopes and dreams; just as a bull being taunted in the pit would relentlessly hunt it’s tormentor until it finally succeeded in earning back it’s primordial sense of honor or until it’s heart ceased to beat any longer. I’ll keep trying to push things into place and make things go somewhat according to my expectations and plans. I’ll keep oiling the gears of my mechanical fate, in an almost vain attempt to aid the decaying metal and prevent it from corroding into a state of absolute disrepair. Like the bull in the pit, I’ll keep charging that matador and his red cape, eventually I’ll hit the mark and gore him through.

    I’ve created a quick and logically sound strategy (I hope) in preparation. Although it’s still just a frail skeleton of a bridge I’ve built to get to where I intend to go and I’d have to tread carefully across the incomplete structure because as I see it now half of the determining variables are completely out of my control and I can only rely on the trust I believe to share with a few particular people. Perhaps mutual respect would be a preferable way to describe what I’ve placed a wager on; even better, a combination of the trust and mutual respect on varying levels with each particular individual. After all just like everybody else, I can trust some people more than I respect them and I have more respect for some people that I’d honestly never be able to trust. Trust in others and the respect you’ve earned and are owed, will never build a bridge as strong as one you’ve built on your own, because in the end there are very few people you can trust and very few people who have learned true respect.

    Tragically, my other unrelated troubles happen to be entirely under my control and they seem to be a matter of will power to do whatever is necessary. However difficult the tasks may seem, internally or externally, physically or emotionally. The ability to flex, stretch, and reshape the neural-plasticity of my own personality. The strength to break my impulsive habits, lack of structured routine, and put an end to my procrastination. The serenity and concentration to focus on tasks that demand my immediate attention, while being able to ignore those simply instinctive and carnal desires, particularly those unhealthy habits and petty addictions of mine; my personal plethora of dependence to various chemicals for a variety of unique and stressful circumstances.
As well as a matter of finding the courage to accept the answers I’ll receive in the process as everything unfolds. Facing the truth to those few rather intimidating questions:
“How intelligent am I really? Will I really be able to do all this in such a short amount of time?”
“Is my abstract and unique way of thinking, quickly understanding, and learning new concepts actually a significant  character trait I should take pride in? Or am I simply lying to myself and having delusions of grandeur by thinking I might actually be a bit smarter than the average person, at the very least when I actually put in every last bit of effort possible?”

“Do I stand out in a crowd at all, get recognized for that one piece of me (even if the rest of me is completely useless) or am I entertaining more false hope by thinking I have any special qualities at all?”

What an over-analytical clusterfuck of abstract ideas, possibilities. With a touch of flavor, courtesy of my randomly recently found inspiration to search for some kind of exciting adventure and motivation to become a better person. Along with the consistent and bitter taste of my perpetually present chronic depression; a feeling greatly akin to having a shadow that weights a ton and dragging it along with every single movement, regardless of however minuscule the action itself may be. And there’s the dash of that low self-esteem that constantly comes and goes on a whim with a mind of it’s own; I can never seem to shake off all these damn insecurities entirely, not before they crawl right back up the back of my legs like disgusting little insects and pests.

Rofl. I probably have terrible grammar and I’m pretty sure I’ve used so many words completely out of context, but the point is it’s somewhat productive and entertaining. At least in my opinion. I wonder if anyone will understand what I mean, let alone know what I’m actually ranting about in reality. Yeah…. Well.. It’s that time. Time to stop. Time to stop thinking out loud. Time to stop thinking out loud, ironically virtually silently via text. I’m done. Yup.
End Rant.

Vincere Vel Mori

Fallin’ all over myself
To lick your heart and taste your health

Duck Coins, Couche-Tards, and that one Chiquita who makes everything better.
It was a nice dream, but I really didn’t want to ever wake up.

Can’t sleep and I’m leaving at like 10 in the morning, which is 9 hours from now. Hopefully I’ll get at least a few hours and I hope someone wakes me up.

kiltroutgore:

mindindepth:

kiltroutgore:

Maybe if it were possible for me to just sit in my room all day every day eating fudgesicles and playing with my rats and reading books…well maybe then life would be okay.

As long as you keep posting cute videos and still come visit me. :D

Nope I have to remain completely sedentary. Go take your test.

Maybe I refuse, unless you stop being a hermit. Do you want that on your conscience? D;

Getting off tumblr, too addictive, omfg.

kiltroutgore:

Maybe if it were possible for me to just sit in my room all day every day eating fudgesicles and playing with my rats and reading books…well maybe then life would be okay.

As long as you keep posting cute videos and still come visit me. :D

Off to the bank to get money for my trip to Montreal with the most amazing Chiquita ever even though she kinda hates me. d:
Then hopefully buying some clothes and stuff, because my entire wardrobe consists almost entirely of black jeans and black t-shirts and black wife-beaters.
Then taking the placement tests for Housatonic Community College that have the potential to determine my entire future! Just not that dramatic, determines whether I have to take make up ‘remedial’ classes or if I’m super abnormally smart and what not. So minor changes if nothing else, but butterfly-effectively changing my entire life and I’m incredibly nervous that I’m going to do awfully.
Dunno…

I wish everyone were always on speed.

I’m so fucking miserable right now and I feel pathetic for posting it on here, but why the fuck not. I have nobody to talk to these days, so might as well talk to virtually myself. Was going to add to my collection of cigarette burns, but go fucking figure I ran out of cigarettes and in retrospect I don’t want the extra attention for it anyways, but that just seems like it would feel so fucking nice right now. Blah, I’m having an emogasm. Maybe I’ll have a period too, if I keep acting like a little bitch. Fuck my life. I wish I had enemies, so I’d have a reason to beat the living shit out of someone or even get my ass kicked ‘cause even that sounds exciting and fun compared to this bland whoreshit, but I don’t even have that. I have no friends and no enemies, I’m just a nobody.

I may seem a pessimist, but in relation to most other Nihilists, I’d have to say I’m actually pretty optimistic, because I have a childish sense of faith in humanity to continue to progress in the right direction. Even with these more recent and most complex circumstances that seem to be working against us.

   Even though I don’t agree with labeling myself under any specific belief system, Nihilism and Existentialism are the closest philosophies I can relate to without contradicting myself so I suppose I just use them as a way to roughly ~explain what I believe in or rather don’t believe in— to people who might not understand the concept without a common example to build from.

    And that leads me to wonder: What is considered a belief and what is considered as simply being an open-minded individual with plenty of ideas. Where is the line drawn? What defines a person and what are simply thoughts a person can have? I’ve always thought that it’s better to have ideas than beliefs— but believing, assuming, judging, are all apart of a necessary process to actively and consistently be sentient and aware of the world around you.

      It all has a lot more to do with not believing in anything in particular, building an understanding of reality off of assumptions that are commonly agreed upon to be true (“I think therefore I am” as a silly example), while at the same time still acknowledging that looming shadow of a doubt— knowing nothing is actually known. But is consistent lack of belief generally perceived as a solitary belief itself? Is it simply a matter of opinion, the glass is either half-full or half-empty? “True wisdom is knowing that you know nothing” but in knowing you know nothing, wouldn’t that be knowing something or is it too abstract of an idea to be considered knowledge?..
   
    The world is full of contradictions, ideological paradoxes, and the people who perpetuate them since they’re all just ideas we’ve conceived while observing this infinitely complex system we’re apart of. I’m just ranting random thoughts to pass the time…

kiltroutgore:

This “”“holiday”“” is dumb as hell

Eh, at least it’s a reminder of how our country started off even if it is really shitty now.  Plus, explosives can be a lot of fun. But yeah, you’re right it is a dumb as hell holiday for the most part.

Here’s to another night without sleep, ‘cause… I don’t even know anymore… Fucking hell.

I love breaking down while I’m withdrawing. It’s nice to feel something different every once in a while, however unpleasant.

  My test is in three days and I need to study, but I can’t seem to focus. Too busy thinking about something else.

I can’t stop shaking. Blah…

Yay, I get to sand down some walls and paint some rooms. Then I get to tear down some walls, then put them back up all fresh like. And then rip out broken pieces of dry wall that are lingering in the holes someone punched through the ceiling, and patch them up with cardboard, nails, mesh, and that puddy-like plaster shit.
And I haven’t even slept yet, but I guess it’s worth it to have been able hang out with a particularly awesome Chiquita all night, and now I get to make some more fucking money for the Canada trip which will hopefully be just like here- minus one hell of an existence. Maybe it will be even better than just some random escape from reality, either way I’m excited and I’m fucking exhausted as all hell, but yeah… Off to do some work…