Some days, more than others, I feel acutely the weight of the tyrranical beauty possessed by women beyond reach.
I was reading Kingdom Come today...again. In case you are unaware, this is a story set in a possible future of the DC universe where the great heroes have all retreated from the world, leaving the new generation of superheroes, hardly worth looking up to, fighting a chaotic, pointless, and endless battle amongst one another. Superman was the first to go because the human race let him down, choosing madness and violence over decency, mercy, and all of the ideals he has fought so long to embody.
Eventually things get so bad and the people get so desperately out of hope. The world seems as if it is coming to an end, and then suddenly Superman returns. And that is as far as I got this time. I just can't handle it.
I cried for a good ten minutes straight. What Superman represents here is not a big strong guy to come and do everything we're too worthless to do on our own, but hope, inspiration, the undying spirit of good will towards your fellow man. He represents something that is very hard to keep sight of today, at least in my world.
There are so many ideals that are dying in our society, ideals that, if undone, will undo the human race as well. Love. Can you believe there are people out there who feel forced to reduce something so basic and necessary as Love down to a mental disorder, a disease, something that is laughable to even think of as existant? They utilize this sick empirical worldview, the delusional illusion that so many people find as their only alternative to believe in these days.
Well I just can't get by in a world without love, without the touch of another human being. This vital need has been crippling my spirit for the better part of a year now. I used to be comforted by the idea that no matter what, the sun will rise on the following day, and that even if it is raining I can still count on it to be there above the clouds. Some days it feels as if that is more burdensome than uplifting. When you live a cold robotic life without passion and ideals and love to guide you, it is just painful to think about how the days are going to keep coming and coming and that you are going to have to wait for the day when you fade out of this life like a mermaid who has become nothing more than so much sea foam.
Who can lead a meaningless life? Who can wake up and face the day when their actions have no significant bearing on the world around them? No one. No one can do this, not for long. It will break a human being to get caught up in this kind of thinking.
So you must see that it is up to each human being to stand up, to carry themselves, and to offer a hand to the downtrodden. If this world has forgotten or convinced itself that there is no beauty, goodness, holiness, and sanctity then you have to show them that this is just not true. If the people around you have forgotten joy, if they have forgotten the undeniable bond humans share in their connected bodies, their needs, the mystical, inexplicable, and miraculous nature of the life on this world that we are apart of, then show them. Be the embodiment, make it live. Each one of us is capable of so much beauty, so much talent, so many incredible things, and we should feel responsible to ourselves and to this world to brighten it with our light.
Eventually things get so bad and the people get so desperately out of hope. The world seems as if it is coming to an end, and then suddenly Superman returns. And that is as far as I got this time. I just can't handle it.
I cried for a good ten minutes straight. What Superman represents here is not a big strong guy to come and do everything we're too worthless to do on our own, but hope, inspiration, the undying spirit of good will towards your fellow man. He represents something that is very hard to keep sight of today, at least in my world.
There are so many ideals that are dying in our society, ideals that, if undone, will undo the human race as well. Love. Can you believe there are people out there who feel forced to reduce something so basic and necessary as Love down to a mental disorder, a disease, something that is laughable to even think of as existant? They utilize this sick empirical worldview, the delusional illusion that so many people find as their only alternative to believe in these days.
Well I just can't get by in a world without love, without the touch of another human being. This vital need has been crippling my spirit for the better part of a year now. I used to be comforted by the idea that no matter what, the sun will rise on the following day, and that even if it is raining I can still count on it to be there above the clouds. Some days it feels as if that is more burdensome than uplifting. When you live a cold robotic life without passion and ideals and love to guide you, it is just painful to think about how the days are going to keep coming and coming and that you are going to have to wait for the day when you fade out of this life like a mermaid who has become nothing more than so much sea foam.
Who can lead a meaningless life? Who can wake up and face the day when their actions have no significant bearing on the world around them? No one. No one can do this, not for long. It will break a human being to get caught up in this kind of thinking.
So you must see that it is up to each human being to stand up, to carry themselves, and to offer a hand to the downtrodden. If this world has forgotten or convinced itself that there is no beauty, goodness, holiness, and sanctity then you have to show them that this is just not true. If the people around you have forgotten joy, if they have forgotten the undeniable bond humans share in their connected bodies, their needs, the mystical, inexplicable, and miraculous nature of the life on this world that we are apart of, then show them. Be the embodiment, make it live. Each one of us is capable of so much beauty, so much talent, so many incredible things, and we should feel responsible to ourselves and to this world to brighten it with our light.
I wonder how they determine how long is long enough in school. For most cases, it seems to be about 3-4 years. Think about it. Elementary school, middle school, high school, college, and grad school all take that amount of time. I wonder if that is how long they figure it takes to become proficient enough to move on, or if it is just the standard amount of time that they can reasonably expect a person to stay in the same place, doing the same thing, with the same people. I'm so fucking sick of having all this school work looming over me.
I'm worried that I've become involuntarily become a monk. I never intended to. I know I don't live in a monastery surrounded by people who dress just like me and have the same haircuts, but I'm having trouble picturing myself in a romantic relationship ever again. It actually sort of hurts me, psycho-somatically, to be around beautiful women. I think this is largely due to some idea that has wormed its way into the core of my being that suggests that they are ever out of my reach. I don't know if I'll ever be able to feel real love that I can give myself over to. It makes me feel sick to think about it. I need to meditate on this.
I'm worried that I've become involuntarily become a monk. I never intended to. I know I don't live in a monastery surrounded by people who dress just like me and have the same haircuts, but I'm having trouble picturing myself in a romantic relationship ever again. It actually sort of hurts me, psycho-somatically, to be around beautiful women. I think this is largely due to some idea that has wormed its way into the core of my being that suggests that they are ever out of my reach. I don't know if I'll ever be able to feel real love that I can give myself over to. It makes me feel sick to think about it. I need to meditate on this.
I was having a bit of a hard time earlier tonight. At first I was worried that I was overcome with aggression, maybe rage, but that was not it. It was more like a simmering bitterness deep within my gut. I felt maliciously and egocentrically bitter about so many things, things like that there are other men on the face of this earth who dare to be better than I am at anything. Then I thought about crushing them all. There was something gratifying about it in a sinister way, but I realized that this was not a healthy or desirable way for me to live. This is not a good way for anyone to think, for it can only breed suffering, within and without.
I stopped to think about the last time I identified with a hero. I've idolized and worshipped several, but I was hard pressed to find any one that I identified with because of similar qualities. I became concerned because it is a villain, more often than not, that I find myself identifying with. The insane, the wicked, the broken and hurtful, the vengeful are all these things that I could see myself as. Anything heroic seemed implausible. Nevermind the fact that I embody virtually none of those villainous characteristics mentioned above. I'm not devilish or malignant. I don't know why I found such ideas so intoxicatingly seductive, why I would entertain such fantasies of power and corruption.
I just get into these modes where I cling so ardently to pain and fear. I don't even realize I'm doing it. I cling to things in the past that I no longer have, and I project unrealistic expectations and fantasies onto other people. It is spiritually crippling. But there is a cure for it. Let go.
Stop carrying it all around, and just let go. Let go of the pain. Let go of the fear. Let go of your ex-girlfriend, and your dreams of what could have been or what might still be. Let go of these delusions of inadequacy that you keep close for no good reason. They just keep you lazy. They just hold you back. They just give you an excuse not to experience the world at its fullest for fear that it might change you or destroy you.
Can rejection from anyone destroy you? Does that make you cease to be who you are?
There is nothing to be afraid of. There is no reason to keep suffering. Let go, and allow everything to unfold, to be the way it was meant to be, to be the way it is.
I stopped to think about the last time I identified with a hero. I've idolized and worshipped several, but I was hard pressed to find any one that I identified with because of similar qualities. I became concerned because it is a villain, more often than not, that I find myself identifying with. The insane, the wicked, the broken and hurtful, the vengeful are all these things that I could see myself as. Anything heroic seemed implausible. Nevermind the fact that I embody virtually none of those villainous characteristics mentioned above. I'm not devilish or malignant. I don't know why I found such ideas so intoxicatingly seductive, why I would entertain such fantasies of power and corruption.
I just get into these modes where I cling so ardently to pain and fear. I don't even realize I'm doing it. I cling to things in the past that I no longer have, and I project unrealistic expectations and fantasies onto other people. It is spiritually crippling. But there is a cure for it. Let go.
Stop carrying it all around, and just let go. Let go of the pain. Let go of the fear. Let go of your ex-girlfriend, and your dreams of what could have been or what might still be. Let go of these delusions of inadequacy that you keep close for no good reason. They just keep you lazy. They just hold you back. They just give you an excuse not to experience the world at its fullest for fear that it might change you or destroy you.
Can rejection from anyone destroy you? Does that make you cease to be who you are?
There is nothing to be afraid of. There is no reason to keep suffering. Let go, and allow everything to unfold, to be the way it was meant to be, to be the way it is.
I have completely given up on Satanism once and for all. For a time I wandered back to it every now and then whenever I wasn't feeling gratified enough by my life, and found a lot of amusement in the more macabre elements found therein, but last night I read something on the subject by a scholar I have a lot of respect for. Jeffrey B. Russell stated something along the lines of saying that Satanism's greatest is evil is that it trivializes evil. It makes light of evil without consideration of people burned by napalm, rape victims, concentration camp survivors, etc. etc. As I read the text I felt a little unnerved by Russell's apparent bias, but I could not deny the reason in his words that resonated within my own breast.
In other news, the storyline for my comic is coming alone nicely. I sat down this morning and worked out the story for the second issue/plotline, involving how two of the main characters start working together. I even dug up an awesome biblical monster, the Behemoth, to use as a villain. All in all, I feel pretty good about where things are going.
In other news, the storyline for my comic is coming alone nicely. I sat down this morning and worked out the story for the second issue/plotline, involving how two of the main characters start working together. I even dug up an awesome biblical monster, the Behemoth, to use as a villain. All in all, I feel pretty good about where things are going.
I have had a recently rekindled interest in the works of H.P. Lovecraft and the mythos he created in his time. This probably has a great deal to do with the incredibly awesome board game I got not too long ago, Arkham Horror, which is based on the Cthulu Mythos. So far I've dug up two annotated collections of stories and an H.P. Lovecraft lexicon (which is a must have for anyone trying to really interpret any of the things going on his weird and often vague prose-poetry) that will be draining all the extra funds I worked for over Easter. Something about working tirelessly through a religious holiday in order to purchase blasphemous tomes of macabre 1930's horror seems really fitting for some reason.
I wonder why the horrific is so fascinating to humanity. All throughout history, the most intriguing stories have involved facing some sort of horrific force, be it goblins or the Wendigo or fairies or demons, etc. etc. etc. Is it our despreation for something, ANYTHING, that can snap us out of the ordinary banality of daily life that we look to things that would stalk us in the night and in our dreams to amuse us? Or is there something more, something deep and particular about the predator and prey relationship that has been woven into our psyches?
It seems that there are no more adventures to be had. There are no more secrets of the dark and terrible ancient world for us to uncover. There are no terrible things for us to fight, no monsters that we can overcome to give our lives meaning. The monsters that are out there are too abstract to placate our needs. We can't kill poverty with a shotgun. We can't stop governmental corruption with spells or elder signs. The monster that has a hold of our generation's lives is nihilism, and from where I am sitting I don't see any way of beating it with the resources we've got. But, foolish idealist that I am, I will keep looking. After all, the middle ages ended in a Renaissance, and maybe such a time will come again.
I wonder why the horrific is so fascinating to humanity. All throughout history, the most intriguing stories have involved facing some sort of horrific force, be it goblins or the Wendigo or fairies or demons, etc. etc. etc. Is it our despreation for something, ANYTHING, that can snap us out of the ordinary banality of daily life that we look to things that would stalk us in the night and in our dreams to amuse us? Or is there something more, something deep and particular about the predator and prey relationship that has been woven into our psyches?
It seems that there are no more adventures to be had. There are no more secrets of the dark and terrible ancient world for us to uncover. There are no terrible things for us to fight, no monsters that we can overcome to give our lives meaning. The monsters that are out there are too abstract to placate our needs. We can't kill poverty with a shotgun. We can't stop governmental corruption with spells or elder signs. The monster that has a hold of our generation's lives is nihilism, and from where I am sitting I don't see any way of beating it with the resources we've got. But, foolish idealist that I am, I will keep looking. After all, the middle ages ended in a Renaissance, and maybe such a time will come again.
I thought working two nine hour days over Easter weekend would suck, but so far it hasn't been that bad. Yesterday while I was at work I read 6 volumes of Hellboy, and two volumes of BPRD. I also read about thirty pages of Jeffrey B. Russell's The History of Witchcraft, which I am forever trying to finish. I played three card games with my Indonesian co-workers and I came up with some more ideas from the comic book that I am working on.
And I ran out of stuff to do before I finished work.
Today, being Easter, is either going to be completely dead, or surprisingly busy. I wish I could say with certainty that it was going to be completely dead, but my mom and I go out to eat on holidays, so maybe a Japanese resteraunt will see some business after all.
And I ran out of stuff to do before I finished work.
Today, being Easter, is either going to be completely dead, or surprisingly busy. I wish I could say with certainty that it was going to be completely dead, but my mom and I go out to eat on holidays, so maybe a Japanese resteraunt will see some business after all.
I am intrigued by how people seem to treasure things the most when they are about to lose them.
I've known this girl for several years now. We've been good friends all the while. It has been a long time since I have felt anything close to romantic attraction for another human being, but now that she is about to graduate I have started to feel this way about her. I still haven't decided whether or not I should say anything, of if I should just let her go without making my feelings known. All things must pass, in time, anyway.
I've known this girl for several years now. We've been good friends all the while. It has been a long time since I have felt anything close to romantic attraction for another human being, but now that she is about to graduate I have started to feel this way about her. I still haven't decided whether or not I should say anything, of if I should just let her go without making my feelings known. All things must pass, in time, anyway.
I decided to write my paper on the various reoccuring nightmares I've had throughout my life. It ended up being a sort of combination of a literary memoir and a cultural critique. I wrote it in such a way that it treated the world of my dreams as just another place that could be visited. It isn't the best thing I've ever written, but I feel okay about it.
