12.24.08

This journal won't last... I've started countless journals and they've all been forgotten and abandoned... That last phrase should've been reversed... "They've all been abandoned and forgotten..." Okay, now I feel better... Damn O.C.D.
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So, to speak the mind... I've turned this personal writing into an unread blog, which will probably be deserted, as well... I know these things are suppose to be purely creative and exhibit contained-brilliance of mind through poetic words and descriptive, expressive art. But, I'm no volcano of thought... As an individual, I typically forget that which I live, and repress what could inspire, I suppose... I've always been told to take all my emotions of pain or happiness I've developed from daily situattions, and transfer them into words to form stories of truth and passion when I write... Though, somewhere in my mind's a wall, more of a baracade, I think, disabling me from that act of transference... The rage, the drive, the hurt, the love, the loss; all strong in my heart, gut, and lungs, but meak when exposed to my tongue or the tips of a pen. Possibly just writer's block, or more proof that I'm not so eloquent... People tend to assume I'm dense, for when I speak the most frequent word to come from my mouth is, "like." Oh, and the cringe-triggering language I speak of a fifty-yearold, male salior doesn't help my case any further... Wiki-pedia gives the definition to my consistant creations of new words.
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Ou, irritating thought! : Why the fuck did Webster decide to put the hairsplitting "word", "ain't", in the dictionary!?!?!?! Like, seriously... What the fuck... We might as well add a new definition in, stating that the word, "mug", is now to be used to state any item of choice. Ex: "Boy, check out that mug, that bitch has got!" Wow, I sure know exactly what that's about... Not! Simply put, just because the majority of society has become illiterate and begins to use such a word so frequently, doesn't mean it's instantly qualified as part of the English language. If it's really so necessary to define these broken terms, then instead of fracturing the book that's meant for proper English, one should create a Slang Dictionary to litter the pages of... Personally, it'd make more sense... Eek, and please don't think I'm being hipocritical! I'm just as bad, but at least I'm trying to improve upon that which I've learned and adapted to. Change takes a great deal of time as history shows... Well, at least when it comes to improvement. When lazy, careless, sloppy, and thoughtless change is enforced, it comes like fire, unfortunately.
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Ugh, I forgot how painful it was to just go about writing for periods of time; most likely why I began a typed journal, from lyrics I'd post on Facebook... I quit the journal part of that, because I became annoied with the scrapbooking part of printing each entry off and organizing all the pages in a book, shortly bound by yarn and paperclips...
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Fuck!!! Alright, I'm very odd when it comes to conversation, okay? I tend to write poeticly when I speak my mind to others through texts, AIM, or e-mails. Unfortunately, I deleted what I was going to record in this entry from a discussion I had earlier with my close friend, Jon. The oddness was not how I write, but how I save any conversations I feel that have effected me, or stated lines of pure, living inspiration. My texted discussion with Jon had a moment where I defined how it is that I fall in love... And, I hadn't ever thought of it till then. I'm in love with a boy named, Cody Christopher Klamp; my one and only true love in 17 years. Cody once said something like:

With there being so many people in this world, I find it doubtful that you could only love just one from billions of others. There has to be more than one person that you are made for...

Truly broke my heart a bit more when he said it, but we were arguing then and about an hour later we were back to our happy, I Love You's, and uncomprehendible deep discussions, we routinely fall prey to. But anyways, what I originally was getting to before my memory ran away with me was, the definition of how I see falling in love is to occur...

Love is only achieved through undying lust. You're in love with their body and face, at first. Then, you fall for the way they speak. Everything from looks, to mind, to their every flaw!

I fell in lust with Cody when I first saw him, February 1st, 2008 at the first Lakeland show I had ever attended. I wanted him so bad, I barely knew what had comeover me. Then, February 18th, 2008... I fell in love with who he was; mind of truth, beauty, and limitless potential, combined with a personality so pleasurable, he was someone impossible to hate... Yet, I swore I would hate him for all that he'd done; but I can't... I love him more... That's the only thing I can hate, myself, for not being able to just turn away. His flaws are gorgeous, although they repulse the average person. Schizophrenia is this twisted sickness he's contorted to, making him crazy-beautiful. Doesn't bathe, a complete slave to any drink or drug, angry and filled with rage, a little boy just wanting to be loved... He'd deny each claim, screaming I don't know him at all and who am I to judge. But, I know this part of him I read too well, despite his attempts to push me away from this core. I know him, I promise, and always will, no matter how far he runs. I think it scares him, but that I don't know... He's more likely annoied... It's sad, as brilliant as he is, there's no way to get him to shine... He knows that in the end we're all forgotten, so why bother making any impression on this time... If only he'd act, you'd see something great; not an accurate comparrison, but he'd be as impressionable as John Lennon, or at least close to that degree. But, he remains still. I find it cowardly, the way he hides and avoids the World's reality, living in his schizo one... But, it's a disease of the mind being controlled by paranoia and imagination, that's only to be treated if the host, in their delusion, can see the advantages in doing so... In Cody's case, I don't see him changing, even though it's all I hope... This disease is what creates either our instability or our fabrication of love... It forever haunts me that I don't know which is true.