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Syndel's Spire
Syndel's Spire

My texts (78)
My series (10)




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00th 0000


Type:Diary entry
Added:September 29th 2007, 15:02:57
Rating:5/5 (Votes: 1)

Diary entry... just some thoughts I felt like organizing.

Is it bad that I can remember a time in which I was completely different in every way and form, immature, easily excitable, ignorant... happy? Is it bad I wish I could be that person again? Rid myself of the world that has wrapped it's claws around me and forced me against my will. Is it strange that I should wish for a world where everything appears new? Somehow exciting?

I exist now in a world where I already feel I have done everything I feel like doing. I have no ambition - no hope for a better world, as both history and people have taught me such hope is for nothing. Depression. Deep, cold... lost to me is the world I once knew, vibrant, alive - replaced by some shiny sheen of advertising and static. Always static.

Can I say that anything I've done has been beneficial? Have I helped those around me? Have I even helped myself? No. I cannot say these things, for such lies would simply corrode me. I merely exist as those around me, prolonging the inevitable and following some half-witted instinct from an ancient race. I wish to make a difference. Is that so much to ask? That in a world of billions I could do something different, something not just for me but for others.

Should I loose my name? Should I treat the world as it has treated me, coldly and with no regard? Is it too much to ask for a meaning to this existence? Rhetorical rhetoric is my cry to the gods, with no answer expected and none given.

So I sit here now, 17 and world weary. I have created, many things. I have explored the world that I wish to explore, the rest just lies a hollow emptiness. I have met more people from outside my country than within it - without ever going abroad, and find the same corruption present everywhere. Survival, money, food, water, reproduction... base needs that fill our world, we have been blessed with a mind that can fool itself into thinking the worst ideas are the best.

Follow my instinct? I honestly don't think it has a map. My instinct tells me to do this, to do that... to fight for this cause, to respect this ideology. This cannot be logical, when all sense tells me that such thoughts only lead to poverty and alienation. Do I want to be different? Yes, I suppose I do... but in what way, and with what repercussions?

I fall, I trip, I bang my head on the cold tarmac. Stunned, I lie fetal on the curb, the fresh paint staining my coat, and something else... blood. This is no fiction, but I get up, I stand dizzy, danger fills my mind. I laugh, I cry, I shout and argue. But this is personal to me. I cope. It was the most exciting thing to happen to me in years, and yet even it was dull and uninteresting - barely worth comment.

Just for once I want to feel that excitement, adrenaline pumping through my veins but also something else... I want that feeling that I'm right. That undeniable knowledge that there can be no doubt in that what I'm doing is proper, in all eyes - both my own and others unknown.

I have no god I can turn to for guidance, all gods forsaken long ago as my desperate child prayers stayed unanswered. I have no person I can turn to, for people are the source of my chaos, they pretend to understand and fake smiles and false promises. I have no friends that could help me, after all, what help could they give?

I never kissed, I never drank, I never smoked, I never lived. Vice with which to distract us, to lead us out of our own minds and to convince us that everything is truly okay. Our bodies lying to us.

I never committed adultery, I never ran someone over while DUI, I never died of lung cancer or poisoned others with my vice, I never died. All my actions dictate I should be healthy, balanced, awake, active and quick but instead I find myself depressed, ill, uncoordinated, lazy and slow. Is this justice? Am I to be singled out for being so different?

Life was simple, exciting and interesting. Now I feel like I'm missing out on it.

October 01st 2007, 19:51:39
Such is the fate of intelligence. The more you are aware of yourself, the more depressed you are because of meaninglessness surrounding everything.

There seems to be no solution to this other than lying to yourself by pretending not to see too far ahead. But that's not the solution. Take notice of the things closest to you, take joy of the little things that everybody else seems to simply overlook. Calm down and simply watch others march stressfully through their everyday lives, lean back and tell yourself that you do in fact have a better life because you realized that what they do isn't worth it. Having a title isn't worth the stress. Stress itself isn't worth anything. In my days of civilian service I learned to appreciate little things such as the ability to move my arms, my hands and fingers, the ability to simply speak and sing and breathe, let alone being able to walk, sit and lie in bed without pain. Even though those are wide-spread gifts, they are in fact gifts. Every minute I hear my heart beating I'm thankful that it actually still does. Life is wonderful, especially if you are aware of yourself, like you just showed. Drinking, smoking, kissing - those aren't things that let you live, those are things that send your body into a different unreal world.

Self-awareness is living. Creating is living. By writing this text alone you are more alive than others who have never written anything longer than three sentences. Don't ever forget about that.

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Total Personal Pages: 220 - Total series: 116 - Total texts: 882
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