May I Please Have Some More?

There are 365 days in a year…quite a few if you come to think about it, or maybe you think it’s not very much at all. Every year, we all (technically) age. We all probably meet new people. We all learn new things. We all experience new things. Yet I must admit, everyday seems pretty similar to me. A good proportion of things I do everyday are basically the same. I sadly wake up, get out of bed, wash up, eat food, sleep, sit here on this computer, listen to music, watch movies/t.v., and etc. The times are the same, the numbers I mean. The bathroom is the same. The food quite often is the same repeated sequence. My bed is the same. There are plenty of things that are the same. Each day. Year after Year.

There are plenty of things that change though. Habits can surely change. Maybe after a while you’ll go through your day a bit differently than you did before. Usually though, you don’t really notice it. It just kind of happens. Something big can happen to someone’s life. A death, an affair, a loss, any number of things. These things have the power to rattle someone’s life, but, they’ll eventually get used to it. If not, they’ll learn to live with it.

It seems you leave one cycle just to reach another. A cycle of cycle’s. Never ending…
Not to say that is a bad thing. Perhaps some people thoroughly enjoy their cycles, and the subtle changes each one brings. But I’m sure the majority of us people wouldn’t exactly call ourselves content or happy. Some of us are willing to something about it, others, not so much. Eventually though, with whatever we are dealt, we learn to live with it.

(generally at least…or at least I hope so, because then this all would be a big con)

-digitaldelay

A Matter of Life and Death

Life is simple. Life is complicated. Life is long. Life is short. Life doesn’t make sense. Life is all we know. All experiences are personal, and different to each of us. Like fingerprints. Of course there are similar experiences that we all can relate to, but we’ll never know exactly how someone else feels or reacts. We are alone. Yet we are united in that very sense. Aloneness. There are some things we can only do alone. And there are some things we can only do together. Question everything. Then question yourself and why you question everything. Or question nothing. Maybe some things aren’t supposed to be questioned. Maybe some things just are and will always be.

And out of nowhere...

What do you want? You could look at it and say, “A triple fudge sundae would be good right now,” or “To be a genius and make millions of dollars a year!” or “To save the world from (blank)” or think about it and realize you DON’T know what you want actually or maybe all the choices above combined. Besides, weren’t geniuses insane? And didn’t Van Gogh cut off his ear? The whole bit about the artist must suffer/sacrifice for their art is a bit cliché, but true, no? But it doesn’t make sense. Why do we have to suffer to gain something or create something beautiful or do anything that makes us different? The best and worst things in the world don’t make sense. It’s also ironic. Almost like someone is watching the world and getting a kick out of the wacked out things we do with our lives. We’re all in a sitcom and we just don’t know it. And somewhere they are playing a laughter track in tune with our lives.
I just realized that I’m asking you a lot of questions. Answer them. Just say so out loud to nobody in particular. Sometimes, it’s not about someone else hearing you but hearing yourself and listening to what you have to say. You’d be surprised.

A whole lot of contradiction...

Does this article make perfect sense to you yet leaves you in deep confusion? Is it silly yet deep? Good, because that was the whole point or... maybe it wasn’t. I don’t even remember my point. I suppose I have no point and just wrote. If I die the minute after I publish this article, this bunch of gibberish would be the last thing I leave behind. For some reason, that amuses me. Okay, I just read that last part over and it sounds like I said death amuses me. Err...That came out wrong. I meant the part about this article. Okay, this is ending on an awkward note. But you know what? That’s alright. Because... well, I don’t know why exactly, but I have this feeling it is.

You can mean everything to someone and mean nothing at all to someone else.
What a sweet cynical world we have.

Love, peace, afro grease...
mourning.glory