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wolven7So, here i am, at work, again. *cries* Been having dreams, about firming the connections between myself, and the ones i love. It's pretty nice. The two above quotes are from the Single fortune cookie i was brought, earlier, this evening. Thanks Luke. And, still, no one has changed the time on this damned computer. Makes me want to cry. If no one has fixed it, within the next three times i work, then i'm going to crack the system, and fix it myself.
I've also determined that my job sucks the creativity, and ambition out of me. *shudder* There's only two good things about this job, which is one more than it used to have. Now, it's got the benefit of allowing me to go online. After tomorrow, it won't even have that benefit. *Sigh or something* Tier Two of Porch Meetings: If you aren't being Honest enough, then you get hit with the Chair Leg of Truth. For those of you who don't know, Porch Meetings are where i gather a bunch of People (and i mean that in the Derogatory) together, and i make them Talk to each other. Talk Honestly, and Openly. It saddens me beyond all POSSIBLE Measure, that i have to do this. I'm not posting the musing {Correction. 4.58 pm: Meant Music, but i'll let it stand.} i'm listening to, at the moment, because it takes too long and it breaks my concentration... Sad, isn't it? Suffice it to say, i'm listening to my Jack Off Jill CD, and i'm at the beginnning of Strawberry Gashes.
It's wonderful to have my own place, again... It's a beautifully grounding thing. All of my scattered, rabmling, running, angsty, pissed-off-at-not-having-my-own-room-in-which-to-be Shit has dissipated, and all of my action are much more solidly flowing. I'm Happy. Amazing, isn't it? I came to this realisation, yesterday, and it's only become more and more clear. There are peopole all around me, at the moment, and i can't do anything, but understand why they are the ways they are. I wait, watch, wonder, and listen, and people Wonder why i get anrgy with them.
I try to be tolerant, accepting, and whatever the fuck. But when, every time i turn around people are bitching, moaniong, degrading, berating, or whatever the Fuck, with each other, then i have a serious difficulty doing so. So i get angry, and i Know, and realise, again and again, that i was never meant for Zen. It's a little off-putting, that i'm get the most bothered, and care the most, about people Caring what other people do. It's Hypocrissy.... and i Despise hypocrissy....
Here's some poetry:
Wishes
Do we throw our whole selves
into the act of decyphering our wants?
When we lack the modulation
and utter Strength
to do those actions that will get us
the things that we want.
Need.
What is that?
Are your needs really that great
that you must seek the outside
force, simply to attain?
But we're fooling ourselves.
We know that if we were
to strive, the price would be
too High.
Wishes are easy.
You put yourself out there,
and you wait.
Subconscious, perhaps,
a malingering push of the Will,
but are you saved?
Stars, clasps, wells, and clocks
are easy enough.
So is the process
that will save you.
Obsess
"So is the process that will save you."
Refine the ideal, and understand
you wants.
You are given answers, daily,
to your wants and drives.
In writing a line
you remember your dreams,
and, through them,
you remember who you are.
Stop emulating your heroes
and find your own voice.
They want to be like
and you want to, as well,
but there are things you must
purport.
For there is, in you, a will.
"It is through my will, alone,
that I set my mind in motion."
Why must it be directed so,
and how can you allow the
hallucinating, deluded thingsintheway
allow you to focus not?
Perhaps these lines were meant
for someone less preoccupied,
or perhaps it is simply hardest
to express that which weighs heaviest
on the mind.
All poems (c)Damien Williams. All Rights Reserved.
Listening to Sarah Brightman sing "Dust in the Wind."... Almost done with Mona Lisa... Again... I'm really about to simply become a High God of Honesty and Nicotine...
I'm out, like a light-weight, at my birthday party.
I've also determined that my job sucks the creativity, and ambition out of me. *shudder* There's only two good things about this job, which is one more than it used to have. Now, it's got the benefit of allowing me to go online. After tomorrow, it won't even have that benefit. *Sigh or something* Tier Two of Porch Meetings: If you aren't being Honest enough, then you get hit with the Chair Leg of Truth. For those of you who don't know, Porch Meetings are where i gather a bunch of People (and i mean that in the Derogatory) together, and i make them Talk to each other. Talk Honestly, and Openly. It saddens me beyond all POSSIBLE Measure, that i have to do this. I'm not posting the musing {Correction. 4.58 pm: Meant Music, but i'll let it stand.} i'm listening to, at the moment, because it takes too long and it breaks my concentration... Sad, isn't it? Suffice it to say, i'm listening to my Jack Off Jill CD, and i'm at the beginnning of Strawberry Gashes.
It's wonderful to have my own place, again... It's a beautifully grounding thing. All of my scattered, rabmling, running, angsty, pissed-off-at-not-having-my-own-room-in-which-to-be Shit has dissipated, and all of my action are much more solidly flowing. I'm Happy. Amazing, isn't it? I came to this realisation, yesterday, and it's only become more and more clear. There are peopole all around me, at the moment, and i can't do anything, but understand why they are the ways they are. I wait, watch, wonder, and listen, and people Wonder why i get anrgy with them.
I try to be tolerant, accepting, and whatever the fuck. But when, every time i turn around people are bitching, moaniong, degrading, berating, or whatever the Fuck, with each other, then i have a serious difficulty doing so. So i get angry, and i Know, and realise, again and again, that i was never meant for Zen. It's a little off-putting, that i'm get the most bothered, and care the most, about people Caring what other people do. It's Hypocrissy.... and i Despise hypocrissy....
Here's some poetry:
Wishes
Do we throw our whole selves
into the act of decyphering our wants?
When we lack the modulation
and utter Strength
to do those actions that will get us
the things that we want.
Need.
What is that?
Are your needs really that great
that you must seek the outside
force, simply to attain?
But we're fooling ourselves.
We know that if we were
to strive, the price would be
too High.
Wishes are easy.
You put yourself out there,
and you wait.
Subconscious, perhaps,
a malingering push of the Will,
but are you saved?
Stars, clasps, wells, and clocks
are easy enough.
So is the process
that will save you.
Obsess
"So is the process that will save you."
Refine the ideal, and understand
you wants.
You are given answers, daily,
to your wants and drives.
In writing a line
you remember your dreams,
and, through them,
you remember who you are.
Stop emulating your heroes
and find your own voice.
They want to be like
and you want to, as well,
but there are things you must
purport.
For there is, in you, a will.
"It is through my will, alone,
that I set my mind in motion."
Why must it be directed so,
and how can you allow the
hallucinating, deluded thingsintheway
allow you to focus not?
Perhaps these lines were meant
for someone less preoccupied,
or perhaps it is simply hardest
to express that which weighs heaviest
on the mind.
All poems (c)Damien Williams. All Rights Reserved.
Listening to Sarah Brightman sing "Dust in the Wind."... Almost done with Mona Lisa... Again... I'm really about to simply become a High God of Honesty and Nicotine...
I'm out, like a light-weight, at my birthday party.
