Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Wednesday, February 1, 2012; Calling Mothra

"Good morning to you!" That is something I'd like to hear directed my way each morning. A sort of human companionship that's stronger than the bond that you have with strangers in the street or with the people in my home for that matter. Someone to care about if whether your dreams were pleasant or not, to hold you if they were filled with demons, gore, hurricanes, or a giant fucking moth picking up your house and dropping it into the Pacific ocean. But where are you my mysterious sincere human? Can the closest living being to me really be my immature blood-hungry kitten? I don't know, we'll just leave it at that. At least I've got a bed to dream my nightmares in.
Today, mostly, was like other days. Always contemplating the reasons to why I'm here, to why I deserve to be here. To thrive on this planet of rubble. Most of the time, it points to the same answer; some clay maker decided to spend eight hours molding my body together. I lack evidence for the latter because I'm only searching one specific side of things. & because I'm not taking advantage of all the information around me, none of my questions are being answered. Without the lack of insight from someone with the same views as me, my questions are slowly being forgotten. My heart is being filled to the brim with wishful thoughts. Oh, how I wish that one were to care about the things I care about! I feel that they may not look into things in fear they could be proven wrong. That's only an assumption though.
There's nothing wrong with the truth, and I wish the people who surround me could realize this.
I think the days are getting longer as my life gets shorter. Conversations with others don't seem to matter as much to me. Most words that escape peoples' mouth are meaningless. Always talking about the people around them or what they had for breakfast, or the fucking weather. I am not an exception to this but I feel as though that time wasted on such things is unneeded. I don't entirely know why I allow myself to associate with such misconceptions.
Do you know what I completely despise? I despise living my life in utter confusion. The truth has always been foggy but I wish that I could at least predict the vague happenings of tomorrow.
Or next week. But moods rule my demeanor. And words captivate my life. The hardships of others plan out my day. I hope this is to change in due time (Sunday) but if it doesn't, then I suppose I'll always be confused and conflicted. I'll always be contemplating redundant ideas because I cannot get a moment of silence to complete a single thought.

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