Breathe.

I wish my breathing wasn't so restricting. I wish I could be somebody else. People are always looking for greener grass on the other side, always looking for something "more."

I remember when I was "happy," when I went out to clubs every other weekend, when I didn't prohibit myself from the excesses of myself. Drunk and "happy." I don't have the strength for that anymore. I don't have strength for anything anymore.

I'm trying to figure out who I am: I don't know anymore. I used to be somebody else.

I used to be a fun loving, free, jolly, and adorable...

Now, I'm a monster: Insecure, irrational, preoccupied with bullshit, judgmental...

I disgust myself. I hate myself. I hate what I've done. I hate what I've been. I hate where I think I'm going. I hate. I hate hate.

Nothing matters. I don't matter. My opinions of myself don't matter. Others' opinions of me don't matter. Life goes on.

The only important question right now is: what do I do about this? How do I go about loving myself again? How do I change?

Well what was different? Why was I happy before? I was carefree, worry free... I was free, in the truest sense. Now, the tides have waned, the tables have turned. What the hell do I do? In the back of my mind the solution is elucidated: change your perspective. Just "think" differently, and it will all be different. I don't know why that doesn't seem to work. I think I'm expecting something else, something like God to come out of his imaginary home in my cerebral cortex and free me. I don't know why, I have this feeling it should be done for me, that I shouldn't have to work for it. Why the hell not?

I think... I've grown too dependent. Instead of thinking and following through with my thoughts or explanations of things, I'm expecting somebody else to free me because I place them higher on the superiority ladder than myself. I've always thought my opinions are stupid, so I go with the flow, I just play along in my stupidity... I say stupid things a lot more often than I used to. In a sense, I've come to expect somebody to correct me, I've convinced myself, "I'm always wrong." Often, I am wrong, however, there's this aura I feel... an insecurity in my self. Why bother making opinions? I could have somebody better tell me what to do.

I'm in love... and it's been knocking me sideways. I've changed, and I don't know why or how -- I just have. It's changed me from a freedom loving and jolly person to one that's possessive and judgmental -- something I'm not accustomed to, but I've been growing into. I've been getting ahead of myself. I've come to believe that I deserve nothing less than the best. I don't deserve shit, however, that attitude, I think, has been integral in that change. That selfishness has been molding my opinions, and shaping my personality for a while now.

I've been so "happy," although I haven't been looking at the "big picture." I've turned mistakes into conflicts. I've blown events out of proportion, all in order to soothe my greedy, selfish, desires. I wanted revenge, I wanted people to feel the "burn." The better part of me, for whatever reason, never stood up to deny these thoughts from being realized, from being acted upon. The better part of me has been in hiding, it's been beaten up and told to sit down. These feelings, they get the best of people... people as seemingly invulnerable as Harvey Dent. Hate and revenge are such natural feelings, they bottle themselves up and poison idle minds... they poison curious, racing, insecure, minds...

What do I do? The best thing to do, I suppose, is to acknowledge the fact that I've been bested, that although I've been so positive for so long, I've fallen. Acknowledgment is the first step, similar to the four steps of mourning. I've fallen. I'm only human. The only option I see now is to pick myself up and change. It's beneficial to change course, to change directions, when you're driving the wrong way. This is where I'm at now. I'm taking a U-turn, and coming back, to follow the right road, the correct path, to go where I want to go. I know where I am, and where I'm going. So, go.

In between.

Love isn't for me, you see. 

The birds, fly free; 

The deer, roam free; 

Human adults, are free; 

But, see, love isn't for me.

Is this because of me? 

What did I do wrong? You never make any sense!

Sometimes "sense" needs to be felt to be understood.

Falsehoods are justified by a self-appointed priesthood.

Alcohol and leather cooperate better than words would. 

My love is reclusive, imprisoned, unfree,

My feelings are pensive, yet spread like the breadth of a tree.

Love isn't for me, don't you see?

One hundred fifty.

My 150th post. yey!

I'll start with love yet again, although the premise of this thought has interesting implications. I've been thinking about the mechanics of relationships and the interesting properties humans seem to attribute with them. This idea that came to me might be able to explain problems associated with relationships however, "self-actualized" people would probably benefit the most from the insights.

"Love" between two people, assuming it's "real" and not developed through any hostile or cruel intentions, is an experience of wondrous proportions. The feeling of highs and lows associated with life are much more sensitive and are sources of great joy or sorrow. What is it about love that may change one's sensitivity to such things? My idea, my answer, is that it might have to do with the connection between two people. It might have an explanation in the idea of possession, to be specific. 

Walking through convenience stores you'll probably come across the gift card section filled with cute looking images, vibrant colors, and witty sayings. "You're mine." is a perfect example, or even the counter, "I'm yours." They express a deep attachment, a mutual understanding; it's as if they're agreeing, "I'm your property and you're mine." Well, what significance does this have? 

Property is an abstract idea. It's the foundation of Western philosophy and law. When applied to love, as it does in life with tangible things, problems arise when "love" isn't mutually agreed upon by all parties including third parties. When "claims of ownership" are challenged conflicts arise. In these cases feelings of sorrow are common, and painful. Who's going to solve the problem? 

In my case my possessiveness kept me from thinking positively. Although I understood there was a mutual agreement, I couldn't accept it out of selfishness. Instead of giving praise I gave mean looks. Back then I felt like it was an insult, a conspiracy or a game, to "mess around with my love." Looking back I see it had nothing to do with me, it was a natural expression of love, and I should have been more understanding. I learned a lot. I had put a value on sex, as some sort of transcendent, holy, thing, as opposed to what it really is. That was my biggest mistake, and I can only blame my virginity and wasted youth on that. 

I don't know how I should value virginity, to some it's a curse and to others it's a blessing. I guess it all comes down to what you believe metaphysically. The way I see the world now, I wish it wasn't so hard. The idea of saving yourself for someone you love is cute, but many people don't care for that. Who's right? I guess they're just preferences. 

Free love is something I've gained a lot of respect for because of that, it only makes sense especially under the anarchic principles I subscribe to. Love is something that should reign as freely and fully as it wants to. After all, there are more than six billion people on earth; the idea of "the one" is silly. If your soulmate happened to live in the most remote part of the planet and you don't find him/her, have you failed as a human being? No. There is no  predetermined "one," there are only people. Some people you may like more than others because of their personality or whatever else. If there's something that might be similar to the "one," that I think is actually better, it would be the person you're most comfortable with.