counting at war (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kerpingtack) wrote2008-04-02 09:29 pm
kerpingtack) wrote2008-04-02 09:29 pm
so when you're happy
These days I've been getting more and more thoughts that come out of nowhere and develop into complex sentence structures on their own. Just now when I was leaving the dining hall and taking a few mints from the bowl: "What is life without cinnamon peppermints? A lot of bushwallah and hogswap, that's all! Bush-wall-ah and hoggggswap!" I am about 10000% sure that those are not real words.
Side note; I like cinnamon when it's in candy and red and congealed and completely artificial. I am much less partial to it when it's brown and a spice and shit. Whatever.
I feel like I have a very tenuous control over my body and like I don't have a connection to it. I think my mind is getting more alien to me too. I think all these things without realizing... I think in complex sentences spontaneously now, without having to build em up. I don't know what I mean by "I" in that sentence btw. Why aren't "I" and "my mind" the same thing? Is "I" my soul? WTF? This is confusing. Okay whatever. I DON'T UNDERSTAND MYSELF.
The last line of that one Dave Eggers short short story has been running through my mind on a loop the past few weeks. I am young enough to do horrible things because I think that there'll be enough time to be a good person later. Except I think I AM just a horrible person, full-stop. I shan't go into big blocks of text but if you know me, you probably already know. Sometimes I really feel bad for anyone who knows me and has to talk to me and just... has to be aware of my general existence. I don't know why I thought high school!me and now!me would be any different. I'm still the same person and I've always been the same person. I keep thinking I'm a better person than I am. I might re-read Catcher tonight and cry a little if Horky is not too omnipresent.
Side note; I like cinnamon when it's in candy and red and congealed and completely artificial. I am much less partial to it when it's brown and a spice and shit. Whatever.
I feel like I have a very tenuous control over my body and like I don't have a connection to it. I think my mind is getting more alien to me too. I think all these things without realizing... I think in complex sentences spontaneously now, without having to build em up. I don't know what I mean by "I" in that sentence btw. Why aren't "I" and "my mind" the same thing? Is "I" my soul? WTF? This is confusing. Okay whatever. I DON'T UNDERSTAND MYSELF.
The last line of that one Dave Eggers short short story has been running through my mind on a loop the past few weeks. I am young enough to do horrible things because I think that there'll be enough time to be a good person later. Except I think I AM just a horrible person, full-stop. I shan't go into big blocks of text but if you know me, you probably already know. Sometimes I really feel bad for anyone who knows me and has to talk to me and just... has to be aware of my general existence. I don't know why I thought high school!me and now!me would be any different. I'm still the same person and I've always been the same person. I keep thinking I'm a better person than I am. I might re-read Catcher tonight and cry a little if Horky is not too omnipresent.