Animate Attraction

We know what we are, but not what we may be. - William Shakespeare

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So it's been quite some time since my last blog, for that, I owe you, the reader, an apology.

I found life to be more then peculiar when it threw me this week's curve ball. Usually it's easier for me to interpret reality's personal jabs, though, when I came about this most recent set of hills, I didn't know what the fuck I was to think.

Societal standards blow, to put it instinctively. Trying to be part of a system which doesn't accept you is hard. Though, the problem is, no matter who you are, you're not going to be accepted by every type of society. It's a no-matter-what situation. You can't prevent free-will. People will hate, whether the people they are hating, like it or not. It's not that I have issues taking criticism, or arguing my morals, it's just that I get tired of doing both.

Arguing morals can be a great thing to do for both learning to defend your points, and to learn how to accept when you're wrong. Though, morals are everywhere. Would you date a 15 year old, if you were 19 years old? Apparently this is a bigger deal to some then I, personally, find.

So, I guess I finally get down to the nitty-gritty, and reasoning behind this post. I found myself excruciatingly attracted to a 15 year old just this last Saturday. We met at a hockey game, and at the time, I honestly was acting more like her age, then she was. I didn't act immature, just childish, in the sense that I was in super-crush-mode. I didn't even realize how much of a crush I had on this girl until someone recently mentioned it over on a forum I frequent. I was just dumbfounded when I realized how big the crush was. She's 4 years younger then me, and still developing, and all that jazz. I shouldn't tempt myself, and risk a series of various penalties, ranging from prison time, to court fines, to possibly even sodomy (Please, no.)

In the end, I really, really do like this girl. I haven't stopped caring for her. But I can't get into the relationship just yet. Hopefully she can still think of me, the way I think she does now, about 18 months from now.

Gloom and Doom

If you think it's going to rain, it will. - Clint Eastwood

So, I realized that the past few blogs written by myself have been highly pessimistic. Hence the cease of production...I lost the spark due to the negative charge strewn about.

This won't be any sort of continuous pattern, though, do know that I tend to write about anything and everything that touches home for me. So, that means that if one day I'm feeling giddy as a school girl, I'll probably write about flowers & children. Whereas if I stub my toe on the way into the computer room, you may notice a slightly more negative vibe in my posts.

You may be thinking "Tex, your opinion doesn't seem too hard to sway," well, truth be told, it's rather hard to find someone nowadays who is hard as stone. My opinion may alter slightly from one position to another, but I recognize its occurrence, something not a lot of people can do.

To the reader: Life's too short to be pissed off...I feel like I've said this to you already...

To myself: Work on that whole "memory-trouble-thing."

Death \\ The feeling of

So, this will be my first blog about one of my dreams. I don't quite know how to explain this one, as it's the most intense one I've had to date. For starters, let me explain that when I have my dreams, they are beyond realistic. They are so real to me, that I feel wood grain if I were to rub my hand on a table; I feel the warmth of a woman next to me; I hear all the sounds; I see all the sights; and I definitely feel the emotions that would take place, as though they were actually happening.

The dream starts out, and I'm in the middle of a gang fight. Guns are going off every half a second, and people are shouting back and forth, trying to communicate through the abyss of violence. As I look down the battlefield, I see sparks of gunfire & scraping bullets on the nearby vehicles. The area around me is primarily ghetto suburbia, with a bit of industrialization.

Some guy gets a crowbar to the face 3 feet in front of me, the blood from his left eye shattering sprays on my right cheek. I stand there in awe.

What feels to be a friend yells to me from a few yards away, he's trying to get me to safety. I start meandering over there, with all the excitement going about, I've gone into a bit of shock. I'm walking relatively slowly towards the possible hero, when all of the sudden a sharp pain in my left arm breaks out. "A gunshot?" I think to myself. "No, there's no blood," I quickly relieve the thought. It was a baseball bat, someone ran up to me, and hit me with a fuckin' baseball bat, mid-gun-fight.

I'm down on the ground, leaning under a park bench. This bench is the closest thing to home for me right now. I look up, and see a guy looking down upon me. He has the barrel aiming right down my eye.

I begin squeezing the fucking hell out of the bench next to me, it was like my very life depended on it; as though by holding this bench, I was invulnerable. Ha...

Moments later, I finally hear it. The loud thud only took a second to go off, but the feeling that exuded it, was inexplicable. As though your favorite T.V. show was fading to black in the middle of a plot twist, I could not escape the black that was taking over me. I pushed and pushed, with every part of my existence, to remove that blackness. It swooped over my vision like a great solar eclipse.

There was nothing I could do.

It was over.

After the immensely painful feeling of death, I awoke from my slumber, more freaked out then just before the trigger was pulled.

Imprisonment

It doesn't take a cell with bars to be imprisoned. All it takes is your train of thought to veer into an abyss of nothingness.

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I've been so fucking distraught lately, over nothing and everything. I don't quite know when this is going to calm, but my nerves are dying slowly.

Normality

Normality is something I find when I look into the eyes of a child. It's something that entices my inner most thoughts. When you look at it, it appears tangible, like something you could throw.

Something I felt like sharing\\Life is deeper when you take moments to think.

Off The Pedestal

To the reader: The ever nearing disciples of death press meaning into life.

To myself: The key is in doing nothing and everything, at the same time.

The world is pissed off, so I'm here to make it all better.

I was always taught to do good throughout my childhood, as most of us presumably were. When the times came in my life to put this lesson to the test, I seemed to have passed every time, whilst completely failing, unknowingly. It's an undeniable irony. So much happens, yet so little, to you, upon the realization of the fact that every "good" bit of you, is lost. Lost in the meaningless pool of banter that comes out of the world.
What do you do when you go to make a peanut butter & jelly sandwich, and you put on one layer of the concoction, then realize, you don't have anymore jelly? You don't just throw away the jar of peanut butter, you go out, and you buy some fucking jelly. That's just the way things work, same with the aforementioned "realization." You may or may not realize how horrible we all are on a day to day basis, but the underlying factor is, at heart, in essence, we are all diabolical, and waiting to steal the chance to fuck everything up.
I was never so dreary, until recent events. I mean, I suppose that's how a mass amount of blogs start, is from the fire burning in someone's head, who has the strong desire to rant upon the world about the issue in your mind. The thing is, I don't like being a number, or a statistic. We all are, whether I like it or not, though. The literal definition is not removable due to a dislike.
"That's life," "Life is fucked up," or "Man life is something else" are repeated quotes from myself, on consistent basis throughout the day. I've come to realize a cycle in my thought pattern, something like:

• Thought.
• Realization of Thought.
• Action Produced by the Realization of the Thought.
• Consequence Received Due to the Action Produced by the Realization of the Thought.

So I began thinking further about it, and I've got either a mild case of OCD or ADD or something of the sort; or I've got some sort of irregularity in my thought pattern that I need to see a doctor about. Quite simply, I over-calculate anything that crosses my mind, a rather unfortunate consistency, but I'll survive.

Who are you?

To The Reader: When the night falls, and everything is wrong, we all get the chance to redeem ourselves of the day just withstood.
To Myself: Don't drink so fucking much.

What the fuck?

The only way to get across my view points on things, is to actually express said view points...So I'm going to do that. Basically, when life begins, our brains start to function, flow, create, destroy, produce, reduce, & more. Upon consumption of material (physical or not), the brain starts to develop specific patterns that flow into our childhood. Going through childhood, you begin to learn many things, like your primordial instinct to defend yourself; or your instinct to become attracted to the opposite sex (or same sex for whomever may have gone through that). Either way, you begin to take on new experiences, on a regular basis even. The creating of new brain cells starts to hit a "mass-production" of sorts. Not too far from this period, is your teenage years. Where you start to participate, closely, into some sociological drama. This drama fills your life for a few years, whether that drama be working, gaming, dating, fighting, doing drugs, whatever. Eventually, you begin to learn to cope with the drama, and even begin your journey forward into a new life. You're finishing high-school now. You've just about fully matured & your brain functionality is at an all-time high. Being a senior in high-school is exciting, but when you've gone and taken 18 years to get there, the pedestal isn't as high as it had always seemed. Life isn't the big blurb you always thought it was. People, on an indefinable level, want you to be challenged. Whether or not they do anything intentionally, they are here to "bring you down" (how cliche, right?). That's not saying all people are evil, or all people are evil unintentionally, but that at this point, you've learned that you need not worry about the little things that go on, and enjoy the little things that are appeasing. In the end, life is a bouncing cavalcade, which throws the curve balls of irregularity.