Words are only words.
I'm looking inside myself, trying to find something to dredge up, spit up, eject upon the keyboard in some way of writing down some thing meaningful. I can't find anything I haven't said before and I don't want to repeat myself, but I want to say something meaningful. I want to be able to glance inside and see some writhing beast of an unfortunate emotion, like sadness or depression or despair, so I can write pseudo-intellectual whining and be content. But I'm really not finding anything.
I was thinking of going into a career as a writer or graphic artist. But then I thought about what that would entail. I'd be chained to a deadline, chained to what people wanted from me. My creativity would suffocate in a prison of other people's opinions (not like its not smothering in that prison anyway). Surely, though, doing something I used to love would be better than being isolated in a cubicle farm for the rest of my meaningful life, doomed to die in obscurity and be forgotten by future generations.
It's a funny thing, really. I live in Santa Barbara, a paradise to most people. I mean, you say "Santa Barbara" to just about anybody and they'll have a vague idea where you're talking about. But I can't stand it. I want to get away from here, away from my history and my friends and everything I used to know. Nothing is right anymore, nothing feels like it belongs. Clear blue skies and temperate climes get really really boring after a while, and I've never loved the beach. I want to go somewhere with forests, with mountains, somewhere isolated and beautiful. I want to see trees change color in the fall, I want to see a snowfall, I want to see somewhere besides this damn place.
You know what I think heaven would be? Heaven would be where you could live forever with the one you were always meant to be with, alone, simply being able to love the skies and landscape and your company. You wouldn't need to work, there wouldn't be any due dates, there would be no pain. But I don't think that you'd have everything. Material things, I mean. Because in the end, isn't the whole point of life to find love? And what is love?
I suppose I should stop talking now, this grotesque rambling can end.
I dont like your tragic sighs
as if your god has passed you by
well hey fool that's your deception.
Your angels speak with jilted tongues
the serpent's tale has come undone
you have no strength to squander.
-Sarah McLachlan, "Ice"
I was thinking of going into a career as a writer or graphic artist. But then I thought about what that would entail. I'd be chained to a deadline, chained to what people wanted from me. My creativity would suffocate in a prison of other people's opinions (not like its not smothering in that prison anyway). Surely, though, doing something I used to love would be better than being isolated in a cubicle farm for the rest of my meaningful life, doomed to die in obscurity and be forgotten by future generations.
It's a funny thing, really. I live in Santa Barbara, a paradise to most people. I mean, you say "Santa Barbara" to just about anybody and they'll have a vague idea where you're talking about. But I can't stand it. I want to get away from here, away from my history and my friends and everything I used to know. Nothing is right anymore, nothing feels like it belongs. Clear blue skies and temperate climes get really really boring after a while, and I've never loved the beach. I want to go somewhere with forests, with mountains, somewhere isolated and beautiful. I want to see trees change color in the fall, I want to see a snowfall, I want to see somewhere besides this damn place.
You know what I think heaven would be? Heaven would be where you could live forever with the one you were always meant to be with, alone, simply being able to love the skies and landscape and your company. You wouldn't need to work, there wouldn't be any due dates, there would be no pain. But I don't think that you'd have everything. Material things, I mean. Because in the end, isn't the whole point of life to find love? And what is love?
I suppose I should stop talking now, this grotesque rambling can end.
I dont like your tragic sighs
as if your god has passed you by
well hey fool that's your deception.
Your angels speak with jilted tongues
the serpent's tale has come undone
you have no strength to squander.
-Sarah McLachlan, "Ice"
posted by Aermethys at 9:08 PM
2 Comments:
o.O The way this entry starts is how i was thinking before i read it...if that makes sense. Before I wrote in my own blog, i decided to read some others (mainly yours, because you write on things I can actually understand and apply to my own issues) and what do I read when I get to yours? Writer's block, essentaily. Funny indeed.lol. Yeah, I decided that even though I had nothing to write, I'd write something anyway. Interesting result.
I agree with the career situation. I would love to be a programmer, but I would not want to deal with all the crap people would put me through. THEIR deadlines would rule my life, like their opinions would supress your creation.Programming is awesome! There's something about programming that really makes you feel powerful... or maybe that's just me. I used to know C++ and Objective C, and of course BASIC (bleh). But I've kinda forgotton those and I'm focusing more on HTML and Java, and some Python for my encryption programs. It doesn't help that I use a Mac, so most of the compilers don't work on it. I avoid using my PC as much as possible though- no matter what operating system you prefer, Windows 98 is the bane of any user's existence.You need an escape? Alaska. I have a mountain in my front yard, forest all around me, swamps, lakes, rivers, and there is a forcast of snow tomorrow...tuesday...and probably the rest of this week. I don't know exactly how the weather is in Santa Barbara, nor do I get any kind of picture in my head, but I am familiar to hot sunny weather. Arizona: smog, hot, sunny, rains for maybe two months out of the year, and has this feeling of death. The only life is human, and their scars they've built on this earth. I sympathize with you.
Arizona is what I see Hell looking like. Can't stand the desert. *shudder* But I've always wanted to live in Alaska, or the Yukon. Somewhere where there aren't many people. Alaska sounds beautiful, I'm jealous. And the weather here currently is just cold enough to be annoying but not cold enough to produce any precipitation, like rain. And I don't like any weather besides rain and fog.As for heaven, I agree with you almost completly. I don't have that specail one to spend heaven with...so I see heaven as a place where everyone you have loved exists. Time no longer exists, ofcourse, so even if you die before the people you want to come with have finished living, you wont notice because they're already there waiting for you. That's where I stop thinking about heaven, about the meaning of love, or the existance of time. Thats when things get way out of hand, and I just try and stop.
I haven't met the one I'd like to spend eternity with either... but if I don't meet that person in this life I'm pretty sure I'll finally meet them in Heaven. But none of that matters since I believe in reincarnation.... WHOA! REVELATION! Are you familiar with the Buddhist/Hindu theories about reincarnation? How you're supposed to reach nirvana? What if nirvana is finding that person? Because chances are it would take lifetimes to find somebody that special, that important... I don't know, interesting thought. My apologies, I'm sort of hyper. Far too much sugar.o.O grotesque rambling is contagious...It really is. I've just done it again. *sigh*
lol.
lol of COURSE i have the xcode tools. I have the cd- stole it from my dad. and i'm still proficient at objective c, i'm just not as familiar with the libraries and stuff for C++. Truthfully, I'm still sorta remembering the OS 9 days, when there was nary even a terminal for anything, and programming was a royal pain in the arse. My graphics work gravitates more towards HTML so I'm not really practicing the more application-based languages.
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