^ ^ ^ click that because it is a project i’ve recently started and i want you to anonymously answer as many questions as you so choose to or atleast reblog so anyone else who so desires may also participate in mapping out the many different styles and perspectives people have. whata splendid time! you wanna you wanna you wanna right?
“Although there are many anecdotal stories of breakthroughs resulting from daydreams - Einstein, for instance, was notorious for his wandering mind - daydreaming itself is usually cast in a negative light. Children in school are encouraged to stop daydreaming and “focus,” and wandering minds are often cited as a leading cause of traffic accidents. In a culture obsessed with efficiency, daydreaming is derided as a lazy habit or a lack of discipline, the kind of thinking we rely on when we don’t really want to think. It’s a sign of procrastination, not productivity, something to be put away with your flip-flops and hammock as summer draws to a close.
In recent years, however, scientists have begun to see the act of daydreaming very differently. They’ve demonstrated that daydreaming is a fundamental feature of the human mind - so fundamental, in fact, that it’s often referred to as our “default” mode of thought. Many scientists argue that daydreaming is a crucial tool for creativity, a thought process that allows the brain to make new associations and connections. Instead of focusing on our immediate surroundings - such as the message of a church sermon - the daydreaming mind is free to engage in abstract thought and imaginative ramblings…
“If your mind didn’t wander, then you’d be largely shackled to whatever you are doing right now,” says Jonathan Schooler, a psychologist at the University of California, Santa Barbara. “But instead you can engage in mental time travel and other kinds of simulation. During a daydream, your thoughts are really unbounded.”“
I really love my father and I think he did a great job handling the loss of my mother and raising me, and at this point in my life I have a step-mother I’ve known all my life and who has proven to be a true mother, but in recent years there are times where something would trigger sadness of my moms loss. Two or three years ago i went to my best friends house to hang out and write music. He came over and picked me up and we went back to his house. We walked straight into the kitchen area where he said hi to his mother. He kind of shuffled towards her and grabbed her in a giant embrace and kissed her on the cheek and said, “I luuuvvvvvv uuu mama!” It was pretty freaking cute and was meant to be funny but that was the first time since I cried my seven year old eyes out that I felt a wave of depression. I don’t know how I didn’t break down in tears at that moment but I held my own. That scene revealed to me that I could never have a relationship like that. I can’t have a female figure in my life that will love me unconditionally in that special way only a mother can do, I can’t hug her or tease her or have her yell at me because I don’t do enough things around the house or have her make me lunch or go on “dates” to coffee shops or the movies or talk to her about a crush I have or talk about girlfriends. She’s dead and I have not had a mother figure in my life for the past twelve years.
And I’m not pissed that “she was taken away from me” because getting angry at God or Fate or Cancer or at the people who haven’t created a cure would not solve a damned thing. My hatred would waste so much of my energy and would dwindle my life to nothing more then a selfish child mad at the world. The life she gave me would be in vain.
I also realize that death is natural and is something that will occur to everyone and that a death does not mean an ending. Because she still has an influence on me and she will live through my works, through my father’s work, and through everyone who has had the chance to meet her. She is far from “dead” because her face is reflected in mine, her material body as gone but I do believe in an essence and a spiritual side to humanity. Do deny that would be to deny any human emotion that isn’t tangible, that love doesn’t exist because we can’t ‘see ‘ it, that pain, passion, music, sadness, adoration, happiness are nothing more then words of fiction. These emotions are as much part of us as are our arms, legs, or head. And my mother’s intangible essence lives within me.
I’m not even angry at people who have mothers. There have been very few mothers that I met whom I didn’t like. I have a couple of friend’s moms who I call “mom”, I talk to them and get to know them and they are interested in me. My mother’s death has also made me appreciate life a greater deal; it has given me a view that focuses more on people’s personalities rather then their physical appearance, I understand that each and every person has their own set of struggles that they deal with privately and me adding bullshit to their plate would be fucking bigotry. I’ve realized that other people have my pain or something similar or worse than mine so I am more forgiving of people then I might have been.
Anyway, this past semester I decided that this summer will be the beginnings of my questionings. I want to find out in what ways she has influenced me and to be more open about her loss and how it’s been affecting me. Because it still does. However, I DO NOT let it affect anyone else and I have never put this burden on anyone else’s plate because I have to do this on my own and it isn’t right to get all sore and pissy every time a mother is brought up in topic. It isn’t right to bring others down and make myself feel better for bringing the mood down. I am more stable than that. If that is what you call stable anyway.
-play guitar for an hour a day, everyday. I want to get back into playing on a regular basis
-Atleast one major roadtrip lasting more then a week and a half
-Write shitty prose and poetry in hopes that it won’t be shitty
Stay away from negativity. I have a lot of friends who are getting into the whole “let’s talk shit
about people and bitch about things that aren’t really that bad”
-I need to realize that constantly being out of my house isn’t necessary time well spent. I can get much more done alone than I can among the company of people whose main concern is to enjoy life as little as possible
-go to coffee houses to read, write and ponder
-Reread The Lord of the Rings trilogy. It’s been years since I’ve read it….and I think it is time to revel in its amazingness soon
-Read several books and watch movies I should have seen by now
-Turn into a twenty-year-old guy. Two freaking decades
-Go big or go home.
-Help people in need!! I wanna be a better friend because shitty friends are something that amounts close to nothing. “The only way to make friends is to be a friend.” I also want to branch out and get as many ideas from different people, I want to strike conversations with strangers and see things in new ways
-Become more acquanted with my father. If I was born in the same country and same time period as my dad I really do think that we would be best friends, we’re pretty freaking similar. He was born in Costa Rica 60 years ago, and I was born in the USA 19. We have different primiary languages and our secondary ones are pretty sloppy so its hard to get into a really deep conversation at times but it has happened. I want to do this more often!
-I have been putting this one off for a long time. I think I need to truly dissect my relation and thoughts on my mother. She died when I was seven years old of breast cancer.
What I love about this song are the recordings in it. For this album Pain of Salvation asked their fans to send in audio recordings of them speaking to God. Either, praising him, yelling, talking, and just anything in general. It has a really great effect against the soothing music behind it.
I love everyone. True story! I want everyone and every living thing in this crazy fucked up world of ours to succeed. I want it all to be harmonious and happy; yet, not complacent or boring. I want everyone to have a fair and equal chance at success and at failure.
i saw a family on the train on my way to dinner tonight. The father was clearly the only one in control because not only did the mother smell like she hadn’t showered in a few weeks, she was also completely wasted and trying to drunk dial dudes (i say this because i overlooked her cell phone, she was sitting next to me) from the subway tunnel. There were three children, two boys and a girl, the oldest boy was who intrigued me the most.
i couldn’t help but notice how he interacted with the rest of the family. He sat in an entirely different section of the train than them, didn’t participate in any discussions with them and generally didn’t care to be associated with them. When the time came for them to exit the train he approached them and then started barking orders, which of course went unnoticed by his “subordinates,” much to his changrin.
while he was sitting, before their stop, i couldn’t help but want to hold up some sort of a sign for him. A large neon banner reading “you are not the product of anything but what you want!” but i knew he wouldn’t understand. I so desperately wanted to take this young boy by the hand and tell him all the amazing things he was going to experience in his lifetime, and also try and force the idea into him that he can be, go or see anything he wanted to, no one or thing could possibly stand in his way.
but instead, i sat. Right leg over left with my hands placed on my lap. Watching and wishing that someone had told me everything was possible and that I could do anything and that I didn’t have to follow in anyone’s footsteps; that I could actually take a machete and blaze a trail of my own. Reinvent that goddamn wheel; find a better way!
and then i realized that I did. All my life i’ve had lecture after lecture from people who “gave it all away” or “missed their chance.” i am the living embodiment of so many dreams. How can I possibly be complacent? Complacency should never be in my vocabulary. Why shoudn’t i be the voice that this kid remembers when he’s drunk watching a family? I mean, i’ve been through nearly everything this kid has! I’ve been there, man! I can tell you some stories, you’d better believe it! But i can’t. I don’t know fuck all about this kid. Or his little sister, his little brother. His stressed out dad, his drunk mom and her white tube socks with heels.
i guess what I’m trying to say is, there are so many different people in this world. Why do we waste anytime hating eachother or fighting with eachother? Why is that 13 year old kid with a fucked up family on the G train any different from any other family in america? Who knows? I’m sure I don’t.
“The body is but a vessel for the soul, a puppet which bends to the soul’s tyranny. And lo, the body is not eternal, for it must feed on the flesh of others, lest it return to the dust from whence it came. Therefore must the soul deceive, despise and murder men.”—A.J. Durai
can’t say my beard doesn’t care about me….even saves some lunch for when i’m hungry later.
ps. if i have stuff in my beard, please tell me. thanks world.
Yes. It’s not rude, just smile and point on your face where it is. OR if you’re really daring, or super cute and confident, you can say “Oh, look! There’s a bit of rice in your beard.” And dust it out perfectly and then we can go onto a rooftop and drink 40’s and maybe have a little bit of pot and then maybe go downstairs and put on Nebraska by Bruce Springsteen and turn the lights off and light a goddamn candle or two and then get naked and make babies.
I feel like it’s ingenuine. Shoot, I don’t like me all that much, I’m lazy, stubborn, think I know everything, curse too much, I’m unmotivated as fuck, I’ve never liked regular shit, I hate desk jobs, I hate school, I dead ass didn’t go to class for like the entire year after the first 2 months of 9th grade and when questioned about it my sole reason was “I don’t like it.”, I give up too fast, get pissed too quick, take it out on shit that doesn’t deserve it, I think I’m the most creative motherfucker ever, and then shit on myself when I get writers block, it’s so lame man, I don’t sleep like a regular human, and when I do, it sucks because I don’t want to wake up or wake up at like Buttfuck:Egypt P.M., I argue my ass off, for no reason, I claim to not care when I do, I get fucking tired of people and usually wanna dispose of them after a month or so, and if I don’t cut them off and let them hang around the feeling grows into wanting to see them dropped into the hudson from 500000000 miles in the air, I smoke too much, etc etc, the list goes on, but I digress since this is besides the point, I just got caught up in the list. My point is, if I’m not that fond of myself, and I know me best, and you come after 2 weeks and tell me you love me… I’m not going to take you seriously. Why? Because I have a theory. I have a theory that you don’t see the real side of people until a good amount of time passes by, well, not the real side, but I think the not-so-convenient side. Why? Well because, I feel like when you meet people, they’re out to impress you. I’ve always felt this way, there’s even a saying to back me up “first impressions, are lasting impressions”, no? So that’s exactly what it is, you meet dude/girl, they don’t really show any negative shit, they don’t wanna make it seem like they’re gonna slow you down, you can’t blame them though, that’s just the way society works, and you guys grow on each other a bit, off the positive shit, because anyone can grow off the positive, then the negative starts to surface because people get comfortable, and thus, the boarding of the West Jet Airline plane back from the honeymoon phase ensues. I hate that shit. I’d rather not be told I’m loved at all than be told I’m loved and left for dead a month in, get to know me, learn my fucking flaws up and down before you even drop any L words around me, man, because I feel like not only are you building me up to be too much of a saint, but it’s kind of an insult, because it’s basically like saying “oh I love my first impression of you, but not you per say”. Fin.
People tend to fall in love with the idea of someone rather than the actual person. You meat someone and you catch glimpses of what they might be and you start to branch off from that idea that they temporarily gave and then you become entangled. You get caught up in what they can be to you instead of being geniunly curious and giving them a chance to be themselves around you.
And if another dude/chick says I love you right off the bat there is definitely something wrong, and it usually points to them being insecure and hoping that another person can fix their shit. Love isn’t a cute ideology that involves frolicking in fields of flowers (even though that can be part of it), but an actual expression of your emotions. If you feel the emotion of love for someone and never act upon it then it does no good whatsoever and can actually be really fucking creepy. But by acting out your love, i.e. doing nice shit for him/her, take her out to new places, sacrificing time to spend with the person, making things for him, write a poem/song/story, having conversations that mean something, and to help this other person overcome his/her flaws, than it won’t be so pathetic if its mutual. This is a very shitty list of expressions of love but you get the picture. Love is something that occurs over time through different expression that show, “you’re worth more to me than anything else despite how shitty of a person you are because I appreciate you being you and I appreciate you letting me be me.”