i think eating is over emphasized. you don't really need to eat, you just think you do because that's what you've heard and that's what everyone does. why do we fool ourselves into these things? i mean, sure, you start off eating maybe, what, once a week? no big deal, you can quit anytime, it's just a fun thing to do. in fact, it's so fun, you start eating twice a week. still no big deal, it's fun, makes you feel good, you're just enjoying a good thing, right? sure! go for it. in fact, how about you up the ante and start eating three times a week? sounds good, right? it doesn't take very long to eat. you can eat in the car, while walking, you can even almost have a conversaion while eating. sure, three times a week doesn't sound too bad. let's eat! now you're eating every other day. it's a family affair and you're friends even come and see what they might consume. after this, you're starting to eat every day. you just can't get enough food. oh man, you're just eating so much, pretty soon you're eating twice a day. oh? what's that? you heard that eating three times a day is good for you? wow! three times a day, morning, noon, and night, plus snacks to hold you over until the next meal. now, you can't live without food. you've become physically and psychologically addicted to food. your body doesn't work right without it. you get cramps when you don't eat. you get irritable and cranky. you start getting overweight and your health is fading. your doctor wants you to cut back on certain foods. hmmm...eating can be bad for you?? wow...i wonder what else could be bad for you...kinda makes you think...
what is this whole outpouring of emotion? standard procedures are set in soft stone for a reason: those who cannot feel can remain within the bounds of normalcy.not only remain inbounds, but thrive in the center, especially now when social outcasts are those with passion and flare. they refuse to conform to the system of individuality and refuse to care what others may think. freaks. who do they think they are, coming in here and rocking the boat and changing the 72 degree temperature of our environment? don't they know that they're supposed to keep their originality level toned down so that the rest of us will not feel intimidated? those heathens. nobody gave them permission to change the things that society believes. this whole idea of passion and extreme emotion is just a fantasy made up by hollywood, don't they know that? there's no such thing as strong emotion, only gentle and subtle changes that our brains feel and we interpret. we choose the reaction, the reaction doesn't choose us. we're all robots with programmed responses who desire to be more human. the sad thing is, is that humanity is defined by the media and fictional historical accounts. it's sad.
i've lost the music. the music that is never heard but always played. where did it go? what did i do to chase it away? how can i get it back. it's so lonely here without my music. so lonely. a world without the music is a world without hope...am i hopeless? when do i get the music back? will i ever? have i grown up and hardened my heart against the whimsical nature of my childhood? what more intolerable death is there to die, other than that of the death of the inner child? what am i to do? where is the music...why can't i hear the music...why can't i feel it...someone show me the way...anyone?
the whole idea of individuality and originality is ridiculus. what are you, the first person to see the color blue? are you a great artisan? do you have a natural knack for something? it doesn't matter. you're not an individual. the world today is dependant upon history to know which step to take next. we follow patterns and always try to be different. yet they all also want to be part of the norm. why is that? what is that? it's stupid, that's what that is. the norm...please. there are nomore individuals today. whoever you are, whatever you do, however you act, there is someone out there exactly like you. especially those who are part of the pop-culture. those who try to conform to the standards. the ones who follow the trends, the ones who are set in their ways, the one's who are in denial, the ones who embrace it, none of them know what they're doing, nor how insignificant they really are in this sea of faces and mass-produced personalities.
I can feel it, can you? It's right below the surface, itching to be free, dying to get out. Can you feel it? I can. I know the feeling. Something's cooking. Something's boiling and if it doesn't come out, if there's no release, then something's going to give. Something will give. If the outlet is too small, if the restrictions are too great, a way will come and it will take that path of least resistance, whether you want it too or not, and something, or someone, is likely to get hurt in the process. That beast, roaming about underneath your skin, hiding behind the glare in your eays, longing to rise from your throat for the freedom that only you can give. Why stop it? Why cut that line to the inner workings of your soul, heart, mind, and spirit? Why hold it back? stare into that blood red sunrise, take a deep breath of that crisp air and feel the fire within ignite and flare into being. Ride that flame for all it's worth and don't you dare care where it's going, but be happy that it's taking you along for the ride.
Even through death, i travel through this dimension, gently touching down on each of the delicate lily pads that grow on this pond of still water we all call time. Trapped within my own imagination, I speak of horrors I can't imagine and live life one step at a time, trying not to break through the tension that's preventing me from drowning. Desperate to continue this meaningless existence that's something like life. Counting each precious moment and not caring if it slips through my fingers like so may others before it. I struggle through the stagnant water, clinging to is as though I exist because of it, when it was I who created it to begin with. The futile struggle between the creator and the cteated is what makes this path intolerable. I can't help but wonder when the end of this trudge will come. Maybe I'll find a river. A river. Such a refreshing thought. It leads to others. Lakes, oceans, seas. Magnificent mountains are not just beautiful, but chanllenges to rise up and conquer. This pond is dead and decaying. If only I had the courage to move on, away from this death in life, and on to unknown adventures. If only.
Death comes to those who can't wait, while rot eats away at those who wait too long. Too many times, we've lost what we've won, yet rarely do we claim our prize when we lose. We walk around knowing nothing and wanting it all and when we don't get it, we die in our shame and self-pity. We die at work. We die at play. We die at home. We die on vacation. We die with our friends. We die with our family. We die with the ones we love. We die with the ones we hurt. We die alone.