From PostSecret.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
It
Do you feel it? Creeping slowly inside you, howling and screaming and threatening to pull your heart into pieces? Making your skin tingle and your face flush, so that you can barely stand to look yourself in the mirror? Do you feel it?
Do you see it? When you rub your red eyes in sleepiness, trying to make the blurriness go away? How it causes you to look down, and not around, unable to meet other people's eyes? When you close your eyes and turn away, and bury your head in the shoulder of the person next to you, horrified, afraid? Do you see it?
Do you hear it? Closing your ears and screaming, trying to make the whispering voice in your head go away? Drowning yourself in music, trying to lose yourself in someone else's screams and tears? Or in the silence so loud that you hide under your bed? Do you hear it?
Do you smell it? When you choke and cough and sneeze, subsiding into an emotional mess? When you take a deep breath, feeling emotions burn the house down inside you? When you sniff the cool wind, trying to smell that woebegone smell of life? Do you smell it?
Can you taste it? That bitter taste in your mouth when you know he/she doesn't care? Or the sickly sweet taste of knowing that the beautiful past is forever gone? Or the acidic, sour tang of life clobbering you over the head? Can you taste it?
Can you sense it? That foreboding feeling of doom? That ominous thunder in the air? That electrifying sense of terror and awe? That sense of freedom unachievable, when the shackles ring in the darkness? Or feeling hidden eyes watching your every step, trailing you, haunting you, the ghosts of Christmas past? Can you sense it?
Do you feel it? Do you see it? Do you hear it? Do you smell it? Can you taste it? Can you sense it?
It is the most beautiful thing in the world.
Do you see it? When you rub your red eyes in sleepiness, trying to make the blurriness go away? How it causes you to look down, and not around, unable to meet other people's eyes? When you close your eyes and turn away, and bury your head in the shoulder of the person next to you, horrified, afraid? Do you see it?
Do you hear it? Closing your ears and screaming, trying to make the whispering voice in your head go away? Drowning yourself in music, trying to lose yourself in someone else's screams and tears? Or in the silence so loud that you hide under your bed? Do you hear it?
Do you smell it? When you choke and cough and sneeze, subsiding into an emotional mess? When you take a deep breath, feeling emotions burn the house down inside you? When you sniff the cool wind, trying to smell that woebegone smell of life? Do you smell it?
Can you taste it? That bitter taste in your mouth when you know he/she doesn't care? Or the sickly sweet taste of knowing that the beautiful past is forever gone? Or the acidic, sour tang of life clobbering you over the head? Can you taste it?
Can you sense it? That foreboding feeling of doom? That ominous thunder in the air? That electrifying sense of terror and awe? That sense of freedom unachievable, when the shackles ring in the darkness? Or feeling hidden eyes watching your every step, trailing you, haunting you, the ghosts of Christmas past? Can you sense it?
Do you feel it? Do you see it? Do you hear it? Do you smell it? Can you taste it? Can you sense it?
It is the most beautiful thing in the world.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Happyness
I can't seem to define it. Is it a state of mind? Or an emotion? Or the warm fuzzy feeling of being around people you know and like? A state of blissful ignorance? Escapism or a rejection of reality? What is happiness, really?
Are you happy when you're content? Or are you content when you're happy? Is happiness a result of success and achievement? Or by embracing a set of religious ideals, i.e. "divine" joy? Or when love is found and recognized, and drowned by the swirl of passion?
What's so great about happiness anyway? It is inherently a temporal event. Constant happiness requires a constant renewal of reasons to be happy. Otherwise those reasons fade into meaninglessness. Its like a fire, which burns up the fuel that drives it. And all it ultimately does is provide a contrast for when the fire is out and you're miserably shivering in your boots.
At the same time it is more than a fire. Fire can run on the same type of fuel over and over again. Happiness is rather more greedy. Once you give happiness a reason for being, you'll have to give it a better reason the next time. And and even better one the next time over. And in this world, there are only so many reasons you can give. A finite world begets finite happiness.
Fie, Happiness, fie! Go prey upon some other sad soul. Better to be content, says I.
Are you happy when you're content? Or are you content when you're happy? Is happiness a result of success and achievement? Or by embracing a set of religious ideals, i.e. "divine" joy? Or when love is found and recognized, and drowned by the swirl of passion?
What's so great about happiness anyway? It is inherently a temporal event. Constant happiness requires a constant renewal of reasons to be happy. Otherwise those reasons fade into meaninglessness. Its like a fire, which burns up the fuel that drives it. And all it ultimately does is provide a contrast for when the fire is out and you're miserably shivering in your boots.
At the same time it is more than a fire. Fire can run on the same type of fuel over and over again. Happiness is rather more greedy. Once you give happiness a reason for being, you'll have to give it a better reason the next time. And and even better one the next time over. And in this world, there are only so many reasons you can give. A finite world begets finite happiness.
Fie, Happiness, fie! Go prey upon some other sad soul. Better to be content, says I.
"I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you."
I wish.
To change who I used to be
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you."
I wish.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
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