My life In a Nutshell

I don't know what comes over me sometimes. It feels like I don't so much lose control as give it up. Just kinda shrug my shoulders and a layer of numbness crashes down between me and reality. A layer carefully constructed throughout my childhood, sure to piss off the "Adults" in the area with that "slightly unnerving bored gaze". A layer constructed subconsciously while in the midst of a world made of tears, pain, and noise.
After all isn't there a point where some people just stop crying?
Where they raise up their heads, their eyes hardening at the sight of their persecutor, and They Stand Back UP...

Taller... prouder. However it's insanity not life that glimmers in their amused blank stare. That is the gaze of a person who fully believes that all their restraints and fears have ceased to exist. They....ceased to exist. There is almost a childish naiveté to their actions, as if they are seeing things for the first time. But they are seeing them through eyes that are still tainted by bitterness and anguish. They see things as they really are for the first time, good and bad. Sometimes this gets out of hand mind you and they end up in mental hospitals for being analytical anal and meticulous and a variety of other reasons which in moderation are considered good traits to have. Moderation being the key word. And in some of their minds, there is a good chance they are thinking that humanity turned their backs on them and packed them away.

But those who can control themselves, they are the ticking time bombs, one day they will explode, and unpredictability is the name of this game.

Like an season of 24, no one sometimes not even they themselves will know the sheer magnitude of the plan they set to action.

But the end is always the same.

Logging Off
~Naiya

There is nothing I want at this moment more then someone to hug. I'm confused and hurt, and i don't know how much longer i'll be able to hide it from everyone i see. I don't want to be faced with having to explain my actions to others. To see the Fear, Revulsion and Pity in their eyes, as they reach out to help me even as they turn away. Unable to make themselves actually touch me in the end.

And then there will be those who think that i am just doing this for want of attention, those who will tear into this weakness with a vengeance. Writing things out helps me sort things out and clean up my mind. And there are times i need this more then others, That is why more often then not, when i finally get around to posting my entries are sad and deppressing... or something of the unpleasant variety.
This is no plea for help or attention, I'd much rather you ignore it or give me pointers on my writing style. I post so that even if my computer crashes i'll always have a back up copy. So once and for all, I have explained it. I won't set it to private because i want constructive critisism and advice. Not a bunch of pissing closet emos on my case.
As a kid i wanted to be a writer but it was something my parents didn't approve of. One of many things about me they didn't approve of. This is my chance to try out my literary wings, and i won't let it go to waste.
I don't type everything that goes through my mind, there are somethings i won't ever draw to public eye, a girl's gotta have her mystery after all. And some of them might get me in trouble. *laughs*

But I just don't know anymore. But even that is a lie, because i haven't known in a very long time. I get dreams of things ripping me from where i am now and giving me a new existance... and i find myself waking with a lingering sense of hope, exotic things like vampires and white knights, picturesque things. And even though sometimes the world i fall into is worse of then the one i left there is always a fairy tale perfect ending. It's amazing how one can live out one's life within a fifteen minute dream. I wonder if that's what Death is like? Constantly dreaming... living out other lives. Are we someone else's dream?

And then there are the nightmares.
Tearing twisting everything from me, ripping shredding from existance. There is no control here, And i relive everything twisting it further on the wings of imagination. And wake up gasping in cold sweat. Every thought raping me cutting into my conciousness leaving me imprinted with terror and shivering into the corner of my couch. while a dream can last a lifetime, a nightmare can trap you for eternities.

Is this where the bible thumping legions get their ideas for Heaven and Hell? It's likely. They are never were a very creative bunch anyways. And they even managed to screw it up as well... only one life. Bah... Humbug.

There are things that can be said in writing that can't be in person, things that your tongue automatically gives lie to. Things come out truer more meaningful when they are written, they are clearer. Some are more frightening, disgusting... disturbing to those who witness them. They make people doubt your sanity, and question your actions. But if they don't know it for fact they can shrug it off as fiction. Alot of things can be revealed in writing.

Maybe it's the unimaginable expanse of a blank page that never ends... that sends the imagination into fanciful curliques. Making you put down things into print so that they have a chance to enrapture someone else's heart. Or maybe it's just the feel of the perfect pen gliding across the page, or even hitching in places giving your script a life of it's own. The beauty of longscript on a sheet of snow white. Or to a lover, on special handmade papers. lightly perfumed and closed with a golden ribbon and a kiss.
There is so much meaning in the written language, that cannot possibly be portrayed in any other way... so much richness and splendor can be expressed... much more easily then trying to capture that moment in a photo or a drawing. Much more personal. For this is your written thought. Stark and real on the page. And words are not so easily misinterpreted as pictures are. They possess others with more manipulation more grace and more control, a web that the writer creates to entrap his audience. Taking them on wild journeys of his mind. And they are his, from the moment they see the first vista presented to them 'til the last curtain call of evening.

The wonderful mystical power of a writer's skill. And to those who are writers, to delve into that well, is to always swim new currents, to explore new expanses. To live someone elses life through your thoughts, and then translate it so others can see the glory of your vision. No writer is ever blind, no matter the condition of their eyes. As long as they let their mind roam along those vast Expanses of Knowledge, and learn the tales of those lives. As long as they can express it in some way to the rest of the world. Then those people see better and truer then anyone else can.
That is the magic of writing.

It really manages to take you on a ride sometimes. But for me it's a fleeting thing. Lost in the hazy mists of fleeting euphoria. And protected by the demon of short attention span. I wish i could more then glimpse it's fabled shores. And tread it's unknown waters. Maybe start something worth living for, something that will let people see through my eyes at unknown skies. To let them fall into a walking dream of my creation. that would be wonderous. That would be worth living for.

Logging Off
~Naiya

There was once a time when innocence had been not knowing that a little boy had different parts then a little girl, and that it was not a good thing for them to go pee in the same place. In this day and age, by the time a child is old enough to realize that, they are also bombarded with rules about bombs guns sex and drugs... Whatever happened to the simple taking candy from a stranger?
Innocence now is a different thing. A sadder thing. Something found more often in the eyes of an adopted child, who through their entire short life have only known hunger and disease and war. Filth everywhere, the type that seeps into your very bones. When they come here... see the supermarkets, the quiet. Their eyes when they realize that they don't have to steal to eat, that there is food everywhere. No-one shooting at you from rooftops. No mortars going off in the distance. Yes innocence is different now.

~Naiya

Epiphanies are strange things. You'll sit there minding your own business, busily worrying away at some small detail when all of a sudden you just sit back. And a look of amazement comes over your face, followed slowly by a smirk that tell you that everything you ever wanted the answer to is just over that horizon.

You close your eyes and savour the moment. A feeling of peace comes over you, every muscle in your body relaxing as you take a deep breath and hold it. Feeling the pressure build up in your chest, you also become aware of every pain in your body. And it is beautiful. For a split second you experience divine agony, as every nerve in your body screams for reprieve.

But don't blink, or you'll miss it.

Afterwards you fade back into what is now a dull euphoria, lesser pleasure in the shadow of what you just experienced. and you exhale.

Then comes the thought, the trigger to this whole experience, in this case... for this example lets use.
"fuck it, why the hell should i give a shit right now"
A daily epiphany for some, for others it only comes once in a lifetime.
And your mind relaxes from it's hyper state, And then slowly almost imperceptibly the Euphoria fades. And with it the divine sensations.

You fall back into the purgatory of your life, back into the shadows. And they are all the darker for that brief beam of sunshine. After a while you adjust, you are never quite the same as before though. Forever changed, you will continue to seek after that feeling. For a brief Glimpse of Paradise, that is true Knowledge. That is The forbidden fruit on the tree of Humanity.

Because your willing to take the next step, you find yourself taking bigger chances. Until you misstep and find yourself, at the ninth gate of hell, Reserved for you kind, those who try to find meaning in the chaotic tapestry that to our eyes is blank. For we are not meant to see the designs in the small view that we have. It would be like looking at the molecular structure of the mona lisa, Looking so closely, you would never notice she was smiling.

Such is the same with the Tapestry, and enlightenment is that small fraction of a moment when we get a peek at the big picture.
The Devil never had to tempt us, God did it himself.
That's if you believe this sort of thing.
But who ever truly listens to the deranged ravings of a lunatic mind neh?

Logging Off
~Naiya