the story:
i forgot that i had to go put some mo money in the parking thing, but it was 2 am and i was getting up at 9 am and it was raining outside. it was one of those times when you use “fuck” in as many ways as possible under your breath and look like a crazy person riding in your pajama pants and big baggy shirt biking in the rain while everyone else is being normal and throwing up alcohol into shitty streets.
i brought music, and it made me emotional. yessss. but before that.
right as i exit my dorm room. my phone vibrated: message view -> “Do you believe that we got here by chance?”
eventually it prompted this response:
“John Donne himself could not resist the terror of hell so how do you expect my answer to be a constant yes or a constant no? The truth is every argument You’ve ever nodded in agreement with or wagged a finger against has been the mere ejaculation of another person seeking the truth and utterly convinced for some reason other than the fact that it is so plain and as constant as the laws of gravity.”
breakdown/drop:
john donne went from sexy cavalier poet to staunch christian priest. in both sitiatians, he was a studded jenius. moral of the story is that his morals were more like a story, with an exposition, tension, a climax and a falling action. i’d say that falling action was when the amount of action he was getting, was falling. so no more climaxes or friction or even exposition. but not only that, he was scared shitless of death. i think he had constipation issues as well.
so if this man who spout carpe diem via brilliant lyric to many a lady folk and spat at god made a good ol u-turn and started to spout fire in his brimstone sermons spatting all over his congregations, then how can you expect me to be so certain?
i can’t be certain.
your beliefs are not discoveries of truth, they are pieces of the world tied together in a way.
yes, that statement had a major boner kill at the end, because well, it isn’t “in such a way that,” or whatever. it’s just that simple. they tied it together in such a way.
[written on the back of a piece of paper in my car]
“is it any surprise that you feel so overwhelmed?
at 8222: “that’s just the way things are”
[btw the girl that said that, is this girl]
[mmm not a good idea to start of a blog logging thoughts of myself and death with a boner. but oh well, i’ll work with it. by myself. teehee. back to this piece of paper]
it occured to me at once that love could be a great illusion, it gets everything it asks for.
“I love you”
don’t say that much.
Officer, why am i drunk you ask? i swear to god i’m not god, but i’m drunk off of god. b/c i’m in college. that’s why i’m drunk.
duh, we just drink life.
at 1:29 she asked if i think it’s all cuz chance. ohLL, you’re name is a poem and you’re a poem, burning luscious.
and the taxi driver drives taxing in everything he sees, reacting. but we still watch and divine meaning. the morals are hard to find, & occur when in the study muddled muddy, life chirping angrily outside. fuck.”
whuht uh pank. taxi driver, this film is a cornerstone in my mind. lolita too.
expl of plot so you’ll never have to see it:
robert de niro meets this prostitute and protects her (not the only romantic interest)
great scene when she is trying to blow him and he gets pissed off because he’s trying to help her. he is trying to upturn society that he hates. especially after it turned sour with that hot politico lady he met earlier.
so he decides to kill the pimp. he makes this device to slide the gun into his hand easily from his coat. he shoots up some of the people in the pimp house, get shot himself. and the film ends, you’re unsure what’s going on. all you know is that you just saw some fucking ridick shit. martin scorsese shits on your dick and you just take it, because it’s fuckin beautiful.
MORAL AMBIGUITY. get it thru you’re heads, it’s not saying that everything is relative or that everything is here by chance or that there is no god. it is confusion and absurdity.
Lolita was saying the same thing in the end of her film by Kubrick when she said “That’s just the way things are”
the movie seems like it sucks, but you must think hard to understand why it’s amazing.
in that note, i also referenced Copeland’s song “Eat, Sleep, Repeat” off of the album “Eat, Sleep, Repeat”
I’d just like to explain that song as well:
Verse 1: describes how if Love were not a truth, then this world would be terrible. every brilliant man is dumb.
Chorus: of course you feel pain without this love, then he asks, is it worth it? but that part is kinda up for grabs. i can’t really get the chorus.
Verse 2: yet love is this everlasting, real existence that defines human life.
so is life just “eat, sleep, repeat”? or is love real?
i have been writing a lot poetry in spite of myself. and i think the point of it all is, that i do not know what i am going to do with my life. and i have been thinking that i have to do something certain with my life. but i don’t mind serving as an example that this is all a little ridiculous, by being a little ridiculous.
no one ever had an original thought because they were all just trying to think of an original thought for the sake of having a thought other than that other thought. but i can’t help it.
like charlie sheen, but i’ll take his advice and drink chocolate milk.
charlie sheer is a sheen genius. yes that was intentional.
seriously i agree with this photo. he shows you all that you are evil sinners. even though he makes you think you are a good person. his quotes are ridiculous, he’s fucked up.
but you still pay attention to it. you know it’s there. and you have something to say about it. just because the tv, the magazine, said so. just because he’s famous.
that’s why i gotta be famous. to stop all this bullshit. pull a charlie sheen but without all the crack whores.
my asshole hurts from shitting all this writing so outright, out right here, out in the wrong way. it’s not okay when you inspire yourself. but whatever… i just need that dream team of mutherfockers.
this is the future bitch: it’s called content. whoever creates content the best is king. it’s not just marketing, or technique, or originality, or intelligence, or ability, or technology, or connections, or style, or sex.
it’s all of that and more. you can go ahead and settle down, i don’t mind. i’ll probably fail and settle down. but this is war my friends. you know that thing that they call free time? that is an opportunity to be a human being and not be a robot taking a break from routine.
i have no choice, ima have to try and go for it. i have been taking advice from a lot of older people. they are all fed up with their mortgages and big mexican womens (BMW) and their large mexican cleaning ladies.
aren’t you fed up with all this anxiety? don’t you tell that little brat to be grateful for their youth?
lets do it again. and discover life,
with it’s colorful surprises:
3 silly stories up 