My mind is too fogged to write anything coherent that hasn't already been written, so I am typing up an old journal entry. I don't know why I feel unoriginal when I wrote the damned thing anyway... hmm... anyway... it's an interesting juxtaposition to where I am now, as this was more than a month ago. Themes have carried over, just not individuals:
"This notebook has seemingly been soaked in Nag Champa, the effect of which is to cause my mind to be dragged chaotically through smashed up memories. Mistakes. Love lost. I feel a terrible twisting in my stomach as it knots up with every inward breathe, every renewal of the odor contained in these pages. Knowing I shouldn't love those who have done nothing to earn my love, and everything to lose it. Yet I still care, I still love. I feel like I should avoid him, but am compelled to speak to him. He still feels like home. I can be nothing but myself and remain unjudged. Despite my better efforts I cannot bring myself to hate him. I'm not in love with him, yet I still deeply care for him, and against all better judgement I feel I should talk to him. Everything feels unfinished. My life feels unhinged. I don't feel like I can deeply connect with other people, at least not genuinely, excluding a select few people. I don't know what I want. I feel the insatiable urge to be held. To feel safe. Maybe that is simply because I am in a new environment and a new situation. I am unsure. I feel empty. I feel a constant and seemling insatiable hunger, not for food but for love. To love, to be loved, to give love in any capacity available to me. But I can't. There is a mental block preventing me from genuinely reciprocating the love that is given to me. I try and always end up feeling vulnerable and unstable-- thus I pull back. I recede back into my mind, where I am safe."
For the sake of keeping busy:
"Does it work?! It's a miracle! Woo! My pen miraculously works again. How annoying... maybe it's because I chewed on it. The novel I wrote this morning may have had something to do with its critical condition. We're about to watch Schindler's List now. Time to cry again. How can I not cry? To believe that anything like that could have happened. That human beings are even capable of such atrocities. I mean, how on earth can there be any logical reason for it? Hitler was so full of hate, it was just... fanatical hatred. It was directed, but it was so intense that it was overwhelming. How could he not feel remorse in knowing that he caused so much sorrow, so much pain? I can't even kill a spider without feeling remorse. Maybe I have too much empathy. I just don't know what would give me the right to end even that tiny life. There is so much finality in death. How can human beings kill? Without substantial provocation? How can they just take orders without question? Human life is not expendable. War is an outdated concept. Human beings have other routes to peace. Does wa even bring about peace? Or does war just make us realise how tired are of fighting, and that it would be easier to give in and relent. It seems to me that human beings ought to have evolved beyond war. Our bodies evolve, our languages, our world, our technology. Why can't we evolve beyond war? It seems the natural progression. Why can't we just love, get along, forget differences... forget hate? Recognise our similar humanity. We're all human How can humans be so inhumane? I wonder about the stigmas that society ingrains in us. Sex, nudity. Why? The magnitude of hatred in WWII is astounding. Children.. for fucks sake. Really? How could you kill children without shame or pangs of remorse? Especially if you have children of your own? Everyone deserves hope... what's so wrong about giving people hope? Human beings are so complicated. We should live more like little birds. They have purpose without obligation. They embody simplicity. They aren't weighed down by responsibility or greed or desire or materialism, thus they can fly. People will never be able to fly, we're too weighed down. By shame and want and expectations. But birds can. Their forms are light and agile. They evolved that way because they have no reason to stay landlocked."