This midi... I'm not sure what it's from... Do you know? It's really cool though...



(The above quote is from X (or X/1999 in America))
Hey, I changed the body font so it's bigger and uglier, but I expect it to be easier on the eyes.

This page merely consists of my opinions and ideas at the time of writing. I generally don't plan things before writing here, so it's pretty messy. And I often disagree with myself on things entirely later when I write without thinking. Who cares?


I said I'd never delete/change/mutilate any of this, but I'm going too. So nyaa. Of course this makes my most recent post not much as much sense, since it refers to stuff I've removed.

This page starts at the most recent entry, I'd flip the links around to show that, but I'm too lazy. Oh and,


12/30/99
1/9/00
4/24/00
1/19/01
10/7/01
11/30/01
5/25/03

Hm.. I didn't write anything here in 2002. I guess that makes sense. I was too tired to be bothered. I hate that laziness though, I think far too much, and then when it comes time to actually do something, I can't be bothered since I'm sick of thinking about it.

From reading over some of the old stuff here.. I'm thinking, wow, that sucks. The only thing I find worthy is the most recent.

To add to the one about school... The reason for things like grading according to quantity instead of quality, I would say is all behind control. And the more we control, the more we can't handle it. We're taught from a young age that which entices us to not do much work, which is what causes teachers to be bothered over how much work is done.

We can pretend all we want, and place ourselves where we want to be. But people are trying to hide reality, by changing reality, by altering your inner strength. The first 18 years of one's life where I live is held inside a place that tries to do nothing but make you something, control you, whether you want to be this or not. School isn't about learning. I wish it was, about learning things, and learning about people.

Another place I dislike ...mental institutes. They make me .. insanely sad. I've never been to one. But I know what they are, and aren't.
They aren't about making people feel better, they aren't about helping people, they aren't about people.

They are places that hide people away - that hide their existence - that destroy their hearts, their pride, theirselves. Nobody who works at one really cares about the people there, and if they did, they would try to do something about it. About the fact that, all that is done to patients is make them easier to deal with. And slowly, but surely, devastate their minds even further.

... Enough about that.


I want to know my past self. Sometimes I feel as though the drugs they put me on changed me forever. Granted, my mind changes over time on its own. But in some ways I feel as though I'll never understand or appreciate things the way I used to, and I regret that. It makes me miss me. I like to blame the Paxil, because I'll never forget how dramatically I should have hated it, but couldn't, BECAUSE of it. It isn't understood, by the people who made it or anybody.

Is anything? We label and define things so that we feel better about ourselves & our lives, in control. As long as we can pretend we know what we're talking about, everything is easy and comfortable. But so often is that a lie. People should just face it and accept when we don't know everything about something... and continue learning. But people just give up once they find something suitable. Which is.. dangerous, to say the least.

Depression isn't a disease. It isn't curable or uncurable. It just is. You can fuck someone's mind over with whatever drugs you want which you think will make them falsely happy. But their depression will NEVER truly be gone by such means. We, ourselves, and the people around us, are the ONLY thing which can REALLY make us feel better about anything.


I feel like my heart is trapped in coldness, in nothingless, barred by wretched walls of cement, with little light. I'm there. I'm nowhere. That is my agony, depression. Sticky, stuck, can't be moved easily. But that's where I was driven. It's still me, and it's still okay.

With drugs ...everything is swept away - no, cut away. Crumbled, mashed, distorted blankness.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Even the happiness isn't real. It's... it's not there, even though it's supposed to be. It's ruined. It's ruined. But it doesn't hurt yet, because you don't know HOW to be hurt. It's-all-wrong.

When the drugs went away, they brought psychotic suffering, and then stillness. Reality waited a bit, and then was born again. They were temporary alterations to my brain, to me, to myself. But I don't believe in them, I believe in myself, and that is why I am alive today.

I don't mind the cold darkness, even when it doesn't want to go away no matter what I think or feel. It's just natural. It's just how I feel. But the drugged feeling is something I wish I never experienced, and I refuse to ever experience again. It broke me, it broke my OWN control. It is sadness. Nothing-more.

To faintly connect the beginning & end of this section ...
One's own control is one true thing in this world, no matter how often people try to corrupt it, it is always salvagable if we feel possible.

-5/25/03

Right now, I feel more detached from the world than I ever have before.

I look around to everyone at school, they all talk to eachother, but I don't connect to any of them, they aren't even there, yet they all feel eachother there.

It's like I'm just drifting around this little world, this little world that I'm not attached to. Every bit of imperfection creating a perfect conception. The world is built perfectly, because of every change, because no change can ever be wrong.

I don't like drugs. I hate people who use drugs. I hate their little false euphoria that they boast. I don't want to be a part of it. I can't quite explain why.

I was put on anti-depressants in 10th grade, Trazodone (anti-depressant & sleeping aid) and Paxil (for depression, social anxiety, obsessive compulsiveness...). I took them at first, not because I wanted to be happy or better or what they considered to be healed of my wrongness. I don't know how long I took them for. Was it weeks or months? I don't remember. But I did feel the effects of it. And I realized that I didn't want it. It felt fake. It wasn't me. I was stubborn, and I didn't want to stay the creature they made me feel become. Whatever it was about who I was on those drugs. . ..the way I couldn't cry when I needed to - when I always would have ... when I wouldn't feel enough to write what I already understood; I quit taking them.

I quit taking them and eventually broke it to my mom. I can be an excellent actor if I want to, but I don't think she always thought I was okay. She let me quit taking them and we stopped buying it.

I think it was that which made my decision about any form of drug. Drugs creep into your brain and artificially change things. I don't want that.

My mind is drawn away from the physical relation to real things, despite any bit of observative quality. If I am to go on with this thought, then I contradict much of what I often say and think. I think it's bullshit that my mind is truly drawn away from physical reality. But often when I write, I'm not thinking it all out, I'm only feeling what it will become. ..

The internet is a form of stimulant. It is not a natural stimulant, because it was created like a drug, and it can alter people.

Do you think that what you see and feel online is real? Do you think the web is simply a communication device? But are not your relations with the words on the screen synthetic? Artificially mastered alterations to the mind?

Or is every bit of it just another part of the world and perfectly normal? Is my mind normal, even with the "abnormalty" of the seratonin?

I mostly connect with people I talk to through this medium - my computer. But is what I say reality...? Or is picking it up from my understanding of reading this language, these words ...is it false? Because of how it was created and just where it was interpreted?

Prod deep enough inside yourself to understand exactly what I'm saying and asking. Connect to me...


Surely, if certain experiences can lack and one can still obtain something ... something must be missing ..?

-11/30/01

You know, sometimes I sit there in night school... and I think to myself:

WHY THE HELL AM I HERE!?!?!?

-10/7/01

*cuts a bunch of whiney babble and leaves the ending quotes*

Since I was young, every now and then, I focus on the fact that I am real. That I am really here. And I drill it into myself until I realize it completely. And if the instance pulls through then I get scared. It really frightens me. Not like I didn't think I really was alive, or really here... But because it didn't feel real. And when I come in touch with those instances of reality. ..it just feels really intense. It's like besides those times... it's as though I am always out of it.

I want to draw away from my reality even more, and at the same time I want to strike my life straight up and change everything, help everything. And destroy it.

I want to break apart their picture of the world and our lives, tear it to shreads... and return some fairness to everyone. Because it's our fault in the 1st place, at least our fault that it persists. Nothing matters in the end. In the end we're all the same. So right now, can't we just alter things. . .and make it all right again?

-1/19/01

*cuts more whiney bullshit and leaves the ending*

And now I return to that which always comes back to me when I'm trying to think- Nothing matters.

Strong or weak, it doesn't matter.
...
Ugh. I can't help it. That always hits me when I'm trying to think. That what I'm thinking of doesn't matter.

Kind of like how I'll never think of anything no one has thought of before...

-4/24/00

The end quote for this one was ok too, but it's gone now.

-1/09/00

*My first post was a bunch of psycho babble about belief/life/death/hate*

Maybe I am insane because I believe that death is better than living...

Maybe you are insane because you want to live forever, even though if you die you'd never know it anyways...

Everyone is different. Not everyone can see everything the same way... Or maybe they can, I really don't care right now.
Either way, there is no set right or wrong. You can look at things any way you wish to. Even if you justify the most sickening... It's not necessarily wrong. I can't say it's right either, it's nothing. Everything is nothing...

So I must be very pessimistic, huh?
I don't think so. It's kind of like looking up to death. But if you fear death, I think THAT is pessimistic. Death is something I suppose you can't totally say just "what" it is, since nothing that's died can be alive to tell you what it's like, but I still think your thought simply goes away, so it doesn't matter...
Nothing can go wrong... Because nothing means anything, everything is ok.
And there is nothing to fear.

-12/30/99