“I’m giving you a night call, to tell you how I feel. I want to drive you through the night, down the hills. I want to tell you something you don’t want to hear. I want to show you where it’s dark, but have no fear.”
-Nightcall, Kavinsky & Lovefoxxx

You scrawled the words so gracefully. It was like a child wrote them.

The dialogue was mesmerizing and bright, muzzle flashes of inspiration in a pitch black life. The descriptions ricocheted off of everything they hit, and she should have known then that they wouldn’t stick. The bouncing contradictions illuminated lies and guerrilla tactics on love and living, screaming nothing came easy.

It was electrifying to believe, easy enough to follow. She just had to follow her heart, and forget what her brain might insist. The brain knew too much about logic, and logic would cause you to become saturated, dredged in tripping thoughts. Those written words shouted a clear message, impossible to fake.

She forgot to remember that there was nothing trustworthy put to paper or paint. She forgot to remember that following her heart had gotten it arrested in the past. Children in adult bodies were just that- taller, wrinkly, disillusioned versions of their former, better selves, the selves that were once ripe with curiosity and the belief in everything they couldn’t see. Perhaps those adults simply forgot they were children, wishing on stars that never fell.

She forgot to remember that words mean nothing and provide less, other than a window into worlds that could never, and should never exist. She had already learned, because you had already taught her, that what people did and how people acted were the basis for following your heart. Words fucked people over and provided a false hope. Actions provided a means to a beginning, and sometimes an end.

She began to realize that in more ways than one, you meant nothing. It had become transparent, the way a fog lifts at the 10 o’ clock hour, that you could never support the fraudulent effort put forth in your fingertips. She knew that the only time she wanted your tongue to move was when it was moving her. You had implied some of the ultimate lies in the name of love and life, and there was nothing left to do but set fire to the heart you had left to decay.

She knew that by letting her heart sear and burn and cease to pump, it would leave a cavernous anti-entity. That space would only be filled by someone brave enough to actively repair it. He would care enough to rebuild her soul, and in turn her heart, restoring the balance of fact that before words can be written, before they can be spoken, they must first be enacted.

thedailywhat:

Super Awesome Comic Strip of the Day: The third installment in Caldwell Tanner’s Pop-Culture University series (previously: Cartoon University; Videogame University): “Comic Book University.”

[blogwell.]

(via collegehumor)

I don’t know why it is only in times of great sadness that we become the most introspective. This is the precise reason for this entry, actually. It’s like we only care what is truly going on in our lives when things aren’t going the way we expected them to.

I’ve never understood that.

I know I have sat for hours, days, months - analyzing every aspect of my life - trying to pick out the exact moment when everything went wrong. Well, the exact moment when everything changed, at least. I mean, I like to believe that everything happens for a reason. And then I search and search for that reason, looking for the answer as to why I feel I’m being royally fucked in the ways of the world. It’s like, we take it so personally! But how do we know it has anything immediately to do with us? It could potentially have nothing to do with ourselves, and while it may seem like a monumental setback, it’s nothing compared to how the change may be shaping the lives of someone else, twice, thrice, ten times removed.

It makes me think about how selfish the human race is and how we are a culture of here and now and me and I. We never think something could have absolutely nothing to do with us, individually. The event, or action, is happening to us. How could it not have anything to do with me, or I, or you? But the fact of the matter is, as a human race, we amp everything in our lives up to a level that is completely unmanageable. Emotions are propelled into the ether so far that of course it’s going to be impossible to retrieve them. And that only serves to falsely prove our feelings were true. Questions arise like, why is it taking me so long to get over this? What does this or that or the other thing MEAN? And the thing is, most of the time it means nothing. It means something was just not meant to be. But as a species we are so goddamn philosophical, it’s impossible to imagine that anything could mean NOTHING. We refuse to accept that fact.

I think about my own experiences in this matter, and how I am more apt to cling to friends in times of need or sorrow. Why do we not feel such dependency during our times of happiness? I run to the phone exponentially more when I am feeling deprived, as opposed to when I am content. And although I have been in a position to shout from the rooftops about how completely gratified I was, I didn’t. Simply, it seems that if we were all to speak as freely about being happy as we were about being not, the world would be a better place. These concepts are so blatantly obvious I don’t know how they are not employed more often. Of course, I can and will only place blame on myself as I am guilty of all of these things. I find no place in being able to accuse others.

They say those most introspective personalities are beset by sadness more often. It’s a vicious cycle deployed by the constant moderation of doubt. Those people are more aware of their surroundings, more in touch with their inner spirit, and they hold themselves accountable for their actions. They bear eyes that many have been denied, or at least, that they have refused to acknowledge. As much as it is a burden sometimes, I feel fortunate to have evolved to a level where I can truly see these things. And while I have been afflicted with the woe-is-me syndrome at more times than I care to admit, I can still rely on my ability to look beyond and take in the greater picture.

Nothing is ever as it seems.

Sometimes life doesn’t work out the way you planned. Shit. MOST of the time life doesn’t work out the way you planned. I think it’s safe to say that where I am currently is not even close to where I thought I’d be at this point. I know I’m not the only one. But there comes a time when you realize, when you think, fate and luck - they’ve brought you as far as they can.

And that’s when shit gets scary. That’s when you discover it’s time to fend for yourself, or get eaten by wolves. Live or die. Survival of the fittest. *insert your analogy here*

I’ve lived my whole life with lofty aspirations, ranging from fashion designer to novelist to physicist to film director. Yeah, the physicist one was always a secret. I never talked about that much because I was always preoccupied with making things. I liked art. But I was also very much into science. And if I’m being completely honest, which I guess I am, I liked the idea of being thought of as intelligent. Scientists are smart, right? Artists don’t get that credit very often. Not out loud. We’re emotional, tortured, and introverted. And maybe that’s true a lot of the time (stereotypes exist for a reason) but obviously people have multiple facets to their personalities.

Regardless of that trivialization, the goal I had and continue to have for my life was always to change others’, no matter the vehicle. Make them think just a little bit differently. It was never about the fame or fortune, but merely getting people to listen and see - not just hear and look.

In my short 26.9 years on this earth I have had to come to terms with more tragedies than a person at this age normally will. This is a fact and not some stupid hyperbole. Certain events were brought on by my own naivety, some completely out of my realm of control. Either way, I like to think they have only built my character and provided me with an appreciation of the powers that guide us from day to day. I like to think that. The truth is that sometimes I don’t know what the hell is going on, or what to do with all the lessons I have learned thus far. And that’s hoping I’ve learned something.

This is an incredibly long-winded introduction to something that really isn’t as big of a deal to anyone else as it is to me. The fact of the matter, the short and sweet version, is that I finally accept that fate and luck have lit the path as far as they ever were going to.The free ride has ended. From here on out it’s all on me. Knowing that, and knowing what I want to accomplish in this lifetime, I’m finally throwing caution to the wind.

As of August 3rd I will be embarking on a journey across the country to establish residency in the City of Angels, California. In plainspeak, I’m finally digging in, and moving to Los Angeles. For those that know me this has been the plan for some time, and there are only so many signs a person can receive to know that THIS is the time. I am terrified and excited beyond comprehension, and as well you should be for me.

I am leaving a host of loved ones, comforts, and seasons behind, traded for 24/7 palm trees, silicone, and earthquakes that may very well end me. The familiar batch will continue to hold their place in my heart, never falter, while my mind and body pursue my own version of the American Dream.

Yes, this may seem like a melodramatic way to announce my departure, but really, it’s just for posterity. And it seemed like a better idea than randomly tweeting, “PEACE THE FUCK OUT!” I want to document this feeling, and all the uncertainties that come along with it.

And no, I don’t find it ironic that “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” by Jefferson Starship just came on my iTunes while I was wrapping up this entry. It’s fucking perfect, actually.

Survival of the fittest.