I wrote this last nite at work ... I don't know what it means ... maybe nothing ... but this is what came out ...
This is one of the first times I've gone ahead and put to paper the thoughts floating around in my head. I'm not sure what will fill the rest of this page, only that it will be an improvisation of the thoughts as they come t me. Writing like this allows for a small amount of second-guessing that I don't appreciate. Typing thoughts seems to be a more flowing process, considering that with some skill, ideas are transferred to the words they represent much faster than writing. However, considering the limitations imposed on my by my surroundings, writing appears to be the only medium with which I can begin my experiment. I call this an experiment, not because I am seeking to prove a theory, although in a sense I may be hiding the fact that I am truly seeking to prove a theory, or at least an idea that I have instilled within myself. My goal, not considering my own intentions, is to simply write the flowing ideas of this mental process I have began. My own theory, seperate from this experiment is that Truth can be found by true thought. A deep consideration of the moment and surroundings of oneself, when written, will allow for a more clear discovery of oneself within that moment and surroundings. At this very minute, this second, in this moment, I have to believe I am as far from the truth as possible.
Truth isn't within these sheltered walls of a 24 hour gas station. I imagine truth in the grass and trees, in the sun and shade and hiding deep within a forest. That is where I should be, considering myself within that moement, within those surroundings. The only Truth I finde here is loneliness. A graveyard shift is the epitome of loneliness, thekind of loneliness that is exactly like that of a graveyard. Despite the occasional visit by a member of the "living," the night provides a solitary confinement that makes the world seem not sleeping - but dead. It is as if they are in world entirely seperate from my own. I feel this is a part of my Truth.
I can only reach it alone, the world isn't here to usher me along my way, and guide me to my goal. It is standing in my way. My Truth here, and my Truth deep in the forest, are both filled with loneliness. Such is my path. My thoughts have been disrupted by a member of the living, a "customer." Considering this medium is putting a strain on my hand, I'll cease exploration of myself for this moment, only to wonder when that journey will truly begin.
(I apologize for not re-reading this entry to see if I have made any spelling errors, It's time once again to meet loneliness in my graveyard.)
Current Music: silence
This is one of the first times I've gone ahead and put to paper the thoughts floating around in my head. I'm not sure what will fill the rest of this page, only that it will be an improvisation of the thoughts as they come t me. Writing like this allows for a small amount of second-guessing that I don't appreciate. Typing thoughts seems to be a more flowing process, considering that with some skill, ideas are transferred to the words they represent much faster than writing. However, considering the limitations imposed on my by my surroundings, writing appears to be the only medium with which I can begin my experiment. I call this an experiment, not because I am seeking to prove a theory, although in a sense I may be hiding the fact that I am truly seeking to prove a theory, or at least an idea that I have instilled within myself. My goal, not considering my own intentions, is to simply write the flowing ideas of this mental process I have began. My own theory, seperate from this experiment is that Truth can be found by true thought. A deep consideration of the moment and surroundings of oneself, when written, will allow for a more clear discovery of oneself within that moment and surroundings. At this very minute, this second, in this moment, I have to believe I am as far from the truth as possible.
Truth isn't within these sheltered walls of a 24 hour gas station. I imagine truth in the grass and trees, in the sun and shade and hiding deep within a forest. That is where I should be, considering myself within that moement, within those surroundings. The only Truth I finde here is loneliness. A graveyard shift is the epitome of loneliness, thekind of loneliness that is exactly like that of a graveyard. Despite the occasional visit by a member of the "living," the night provides a solitary confinement that makes the world seem not sleeping - but dead. It is as if they are in world entirely seperate from my own. I feel this is a part of my Truth.
I can only reach it alone, the world isn't here to usher me along my way, and guide me to my goal. It is standing in my way. My Truth here, and my Truth deep in the forest, are both filled with loneliness. Such is my path. My thoughts have been disrupted by a member of the living, a "customer." Considering this medium is putting a strain on my hand, I'll cease exploration of myself for this moment, only to wonder when that journey will truly begin.
(I apologize for not re-reading this entry to see if I have made any spelling errors, It's time once again to meet loneliness in my graveyard.)
Current Music: silence