a little spark

So today I failed at maths. Really badly. And it would be all too easy to have a long rant and depress everyone with my thoughts of failure, but that wouldn't be treating this blog with the tenderness it deserves, so let's try and make something out of it. I'm writing an essay on 'A streetcar named desire' in English at the moment, and I must say I'm feeling a little like Blanche, her constant fight between fantasy and reality, the conflict between her high ideals and brutal desire. In a harsh and unforgiving world should we do nothing more than act like animals, or fight against the tide and risk loosing everything we have? I've always liked to think that I was a fighter, but maybe I'm just as close to my instincts as everyone else. I am guilty of all the deadly sins, just like all those I see around me everyday. Is it not enough to want to be better? I need strength right now, but its always so hard to know whether your belief in your self will be enough. It's nights like these that I can never sleep, and I just lay on my bed staring out my window into the night sky. The stars hold such old beauty. Even the lone streetlight barely illuminating the footpath with its incandescent glow gains a kind of garish charm in the dark. There is silence all around save from the occasional dog parking or car driving by. I often wonder how many others are doing the same as me in that moment, and I never feel alone. Countless brothers and sisters, not even aware of each others existence. Then, slowly, a little spark of hope creeps into my veins. It's not much, but its enough. Enough to keep me going for another night. I may be delusional, but who's to say I can't dream? I may never fully master my emotions, but then who does? You always have to try right? That's what I believe anyway. It may seem impossible. The significance of your actions may be so minuscule that you needn't have tried in the first place. But you'll never know until you take the first step. In this dark march towards whatever it is we're approaching.... Don't - Don't hang back with the brutes.

The Symphony of the Rain

Don't you just love those rainy afternoons, where you could just sit for hours watching the rain fall? It's like being on a different planet, totally isolated from all the stresses, evils and horrors of the world. Nothing but you and the rain. It seems like all too often these days we loose ourselves in matters of trivial importance: obsessing over marks, trying to reach peak physical condition, trying to find the perfect partner, and trying to lead the perfect life. But none of it matters really. There are very few things that we really need. I need to eat, drink and sleep. I need to keep warm. I need my friends and family. I need to fly. That's it. I don't need to get 100% on an essay. I don't really need to care what other people think about how I live my life. Why do we sit in distress when we are surrounded by such unparalleled beauty? Art, literature, science. The world sings to me. And I am filled with warmth, and hope. The hope that I will never forget the beauty that surrounds me. She sings to us, and I hear every note. Call me daft. Call me blind to the truth. The only one you are deceiving is yourself. Look down deep inside the very fabric of your being and ask yourself if you are really so sure about things. Really. For the meantime I'll just remain in my bubble, looking out onto the moonscape that surrounds me, listening to the symphony of the rain.

harder better faster stronger

Sometimes everything's just really hard. It's so hard to get that perfect balance going in life. I need to put in some more work into school to be able to get the grades I need, but that means I have to sacrifice a lot of other stuff as well. Next week I have three in class essays, twelve hours of writing. Two weeks after that I have three oral presentations, forty-five to sixty minutes of talking. Then three weeks after that I have three exams. Seems three's my lucky number this term. I'm pretty nervous at the moment, but I usually manage to pull through. I feel bad about all my friends. I never see you guys anymore. Don't ever think that if we don't hang out its because I've forgotten you, or that I hate you, or any of that business. It's just me trying to work things out and get my balance right. It's not like its going to get any better next year either though, which always gets me a little down. But it just makes me value all the time I get with you all the more. There is so much I would never have been able to do without you. Honestly, I need you, and I love you guys, really, I do. Getting fit and keeping fit is a constant challenge. Some nights I feel I just don't have the energy to go the gym for the day or maybe I've just got that much stuff to do I don't really have the time. So much to do and so little time to do it. I do enjoy running in the mornings, though on days like today running in -7 degrees isn't the nicest thing. There are moments where I feel like its all too much. It all builds up, and I feel an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. At those times, I want nothing more than to turn and walk away. Just walk. And walk. And walk. Until my problems are far from sight. Those moments make me question who I am, why I am, and the rights that I believe I possess in this vastly, vastly empty universe of ours. But then I think. I try to remember what I'm doing this for, and it all floods back in. And though it may seem foolish or shallow or impossible to relate to, there is nothing on this world like being up in the air, by myself and free. To literally touch the sky. I feel more at home that in any other place on Earth. And that spark, that eternal flame of hope is what burns on through the darkest and coldest nights. It is what drives me to change that which others have determined impossible of change, to believe in the promise of youth, and it is what helps me in those darkest moments to believe in myself. And every now and then I'm lucky enough to catch but a glimpse of my dreams embodying reality. I'm slowly stripping back my possessions until they all fit in my suitcase. My glorious, glorious suitcase. But thats beside the point. I see images, and read stories every day that bring me to within an inch of loosing my faith. But still it remains, for I could not live without it. Though my faults are many I have been gifted with purpose, and conviction. And that is enough. I just had to get some of that stuff out, it's been brewing around for a while.

Obscenity

I feel like day by day, I'm losing a little part of me. There are so many endeavors I wish to pursue, so many dreams I want to live and fulfill, but in the end how many of them will actually happen? Slowly branches are pruned from my character, and it frightens me. My mother didn't raise me a killer. Is it so hard to chase my dreams whilst simultaneously appreciating art, literature and the simple beauty of our world? Seemingly it is so. I'm not even worthy of the life that I live. I am gifted with everything a boy could need to make a life for himself, but still I sit here in the dark of my room, typing into the deep chasm of the internet as my mind and muscles rot away. I am not nearly as clever as I used to be. I am not nearly as strong as I used to be. I am not nearly as fast as I used to be. I have become a slave to gluttony and sloth, lazing comfortably as ideals blow away on the breeze. What ever happened to the boy who wanted to save people and make the world a better place? People seem to hold the opinion that by disregarding these sentiments I have matured by I fear I have simply become lax in my duties. I'm sick of this repugnant and obscene way of life. There are times I long for a simpler life. To not feel the burden of hope but to simply be happy to settle with a lovely woman and lead an uneventful but happy life. But it will always be there. The voice in my head, knowing that I will have never extended my reach far enough. That I will never have achieved my potential. The voice that knows of the monster within. I am nothing more than deformed and deluded. I have become that which I swore to always fight. My feet are bound with shackles, my hands cuffed before me. I am led slowly, yet surely, to the gallows. I taught the hangman how to tie the noose, he cannot look me in the eye as he puts the coarse rope around my neck. Time slows as I fall through the air, my waisted youth flashing before my eyes. Then, black eternal. I wish for nothing more than answers. Though those I seek I know I shall not find. All I see is how bloated and corrupted I have become. I used to be a boy of many talents. Now I have few. I never did things like the other kids did, and I hate myself for it. Time is marching forever forward, and I grow older day by day. I must find sanctuary from this torment, or surely it will be the end of me.

Step up to the plate

Assessments finished and my mind is clear. Time hit this, and hit it hard. Nothings going to stand in my way. You try to hold me back and I will unleash hell on your candy ass. Let's do it.

:3

I see you walking with a beautiful grace a world conquering smile upon your face. It isn't love, but every time I kind of wish it was.

Captivity

Do you ever feel like you're out of place? Like you should be somewhere far away from all the evil in the world. Do you ever feel like you don't belong among the thieves and liars? That somewhere, there is someone who will understand you, a place to which you truly belong. Or do you think it's just the inability to cope with a harsh reality? Your fragile mind rejecting the fact that for every massacre we hear of, hundreds more go unheard. Sometimes I feel so sad. I want nothing more than to cry and cry, but the tears won't come out. I feel alien and emotionless, looking through the glass into a whole other world. People are crying over the endless the tragedies to the meaningless details, and I simply stand and stare. My hands pressed against the cold glass I long for a connection, to feel what they feel, to bear myself so rawly as they cry to the heavens. But still I am void. Broken and useless, I can do nothing but gaze in and dream of a life I never led. I've tried time and time again to break through the glass, but I am too weak.

I've always been too weak.

Endless messages and sentiments from my childhood pour into my mind. Glorious memories of the past tarnished by time. The innocent belief that one can truly understand another. That people without rule or restraint can still be kind. So on and so forth. A little part of me clings so desperately to these ancient feelings. Like photos faded by time they hold an indescribable power to look deep into your heart. I feel so wrong and backward. Most eighteen year old boys are out drinking, having sex, feeling invincible. I, honestly, do not see the attraction. I enjoy spending time with my friends, and potentially a drink may make things a bit more fun every now and then, but drinking for the sake of drinking is nothing short of a desperate escape. And as for sex, I simply do not see the appeal. Say what you will. I just want a brighter future. Something so that when I look back through time I can smile, and say 'yeah, I was a part of that'. I've tried a few times, but as always, I'm too weak.

I'll always be too weak.

I wish I was ignorant. I wish I could wake up everyday and be satisfied with the mundane. Not have to put on a mask in order to keep people happy. Not have to be aware of how utterly fucked the world is. Not have to feel the constant pressure of expectation. Simply to be satisfied with my potential and make nothing of it. In my dreams I am a super hero. I can make a difference. I can have it all. But of course, it is only a dream. It's no wonder that I'm not your preference. I know the truth. I'm not as stupid as I wish I was. But you know I still need you. Perhaps I was simply made not to feel. Born into captivity.

Maybe one day I'll be stronger.