Nicole Laura (cryophelia) wrote,
Nicole Laura

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Am i being sarcastic or not or maybe the question is when.*

*Note: This post was actually written before the last one.

Stay in motion. I hate seeing people I used to know. I almost feel a new person, but I know people don’t change. I certainly haven’t changed— no matter how hard I’ve tried. I never could, never can control my desires.

Try harder. There’s nothing more lonely (lonelier) than fighting against your nature. Nothing more futile. But, I can’t accept my faults, and why should I? I don’t expect to change, so how can I expect to stop fighting when that’s almost as much a part of me as the natural instincts inborn into me that I hate so much.

Puncutate. It’s a run-on sentence that will never posses a period, only more commas. But, people love commas. Periods are so final. Exclamation points are best. I mean, commas in life are the equivalent of fading away. Who pays attention after 18 commas; the attention span will not withstand the delays or drawing out of one thought. Periods are much preferable, if one can’t have exclamation points. I think I pretty much have a question mark, and what does that say?

Be heard. Keep moving. Consciousness tells us it’s the right thing to do, and sub consciousness is too subtle, too unassuming for us. For me. How can I pay attention to a whisper, when vibrations from a shout are rumbling in my belly?

Look away. If it’s unpleasant, why pay attention? Unpleasant to whom? Accidents that don’t affect me can’t really matter on the level of my own small interpretation of importance to my own small surroundings of my own small world. So, it can’t be unpleasant, only of interest in the understanding of the unusual, unexpected, or so grotesque or awful to the point of amusement.

Pay attention. Find out which direction your hair is blowing. I am a bit confused. Either I am moving so fast that everything is a blur of beautiful colors. Or, I am standing so still that things are passing me by at such a pace that those the bright fluorescent tones make me want to pass out. It must be important … but only in the sense that it makes me dizzy and confused and the wind is rushing, which could account for the cold chills and artic hands and nose.

Don’t let the little things affect you. Who cares that there is a rose blooming. It’s a mother-bloody-fucking flower. It’s just colors and scents that affect your senses, senses that should just go away.

Recognize your own importance. You are fabulous, fantastic and everything wonderful. If others don’t understand your crucial ness, it is your job to make them realize it. To be effective, you should shout or perform actions metaphorically equivalent to said increase of tone and voice.

Use as many words as possible to make one simple statement. Wait a second: I don’t think that thought was convoluted with an adequate number of clever turns of phrase or additional large and complicated big words. What am I thinking of.

Always use your brain. It’s the only part of your body that really counts.

Mean what you say. Say what you mean. And, always. I mean always direct statements toward others. This can be best accomplished using the word you.

Listen. If someone says you’re crazy, it’s probably true.
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