2011/10/06 23:21I hate fall. I hate it with all my heart.
sure, the leaves are beautiful, but only for a moment. then, they're all shriveled beneath my feet. the trees are bare, like dying hands clutching feebly at the sky, the one beautiful object left in this world.
but the leaves haven't even changed colors yet this year. I wonder why; they usually do by now.
Day something or other- a song you listen to when you're sad.
I'm not really a big supercell fan... at all... but, for some reason, I've been looping this song lately. That's a pain to do, though, because for some reason the sound file I have is 9 minutes long instead of 4:50ish ._.;
I haven't bothered to look up a translation, so I'm not entirely sure whether it's happy or sad. It seems to me to be bittersweet, though, and I'm reminded of the speed at which cherry blossoms fall while listening to it. This song... it's really good for taking a sad Kitty and making her into... not a happy one, but a serene one. This song, especially at 2 AM, calms my nerves, makes me take a deep breath, and deal with the future. Because, whether or not I lose my hat or my best friend... it's coming. And I have to learn how to deal with that.
I'm starting to believe more and more that my life is filled with metaphors and symbolism. This isn't very healthy, hm ._.
but an eerily accurate piece came to my attention a few weeks ago, and if you don't mind a little vagueness, I'd like to try to explain it, more to preserve it in my memories forever than show it to you.
let's just say, there was a real piece of paper that was ripped off a wall recently, but the tape that held the paper to the wall remained.
more and more, something feels wrong to the wall, and to the tape, and to the viewer, because the tape is still there, but the paper isn't. The viewer wonders why the tape exists, except as to serve as a quiet memorial to the past. True, the tape is still good, and it might be used in the future to help hold up other papers, but it is far more likely that the tape will be torn down in a rage, or ignored for the rest of its life. The viewer fears this wastefulness, but right now, she cannot stand to touch the tape and work with it. All she wants is the original paper to be held up by that tape once again. Or, perhaps, the viewer is the tape, and she feels something missing now, a reason to exist. she can never have that particular piece of paper again, though. It was lost forever.
Letting go of the past... she has far too much trouble with it.
see what I mean? so much from a stupid piece of paper.
but, in my defense, one only gets such a precise and lovely piece of real-life symbolism in their lifetime. symbolism that is not overtly cheesy. symbolism has a thousand possible interpretations, each and every one being uncannily true.
such feelings spurred me to stalk down some of my earlier online friends today.
one messaged me on my past 17th birthday, despite it being over two years since we last talked. I won't lie, I teared up a little and generally felt like a despicable person.
I'm very much wondering who they are and who they expect me to be. I'm such a different person now than I was in 2009, 2007, 2005, whenever. I haven't changed as much as some people do, sure, but nonetheless, different enough to provoke a slight tilt of the head, 'what happened to you?'
and really nothing 'happened' to me except a bout of maturity, or maybe perhaps a bout of a wanton nature, concealed as maturity.
maybe I learned how to deal with myself better, I don't know. I get less shocked nowadays. Things sink in more slowly, and a lot less painfully, but that comes at the cost of feeling like I'm shallow, like it never really 'sunk in' at all. even if it did.
I have so much I want to blog about, but it's really not possible right now or ever to say such things. some things are stupid, and not worth writing about, other things are stupid but will hurt if discovered, and the last few things really are important but aren't mine to tell.
... reading sentences like the above, it's kind of sad to believe that I'm more honest towards my blog than any human being ever.
(er, yes, human beings read my blog, but I write this more for myself, either to help me think through things or to help me archive my thoughts at a certain date.)
Business and distractions are truly wonderful things to a distressed mind, hm? However, I'm neglecting them all right now to be a little selfish and write today.
Am reading Pride and Prejudice for English, by the way. I adore it. If any of you readers adore it as well, please talk to me about it. I'm dying to fangirl over it. .A.;
but, Jane Austen combined with my rather depressed state of mind makes me write extra-poetically. It's really over the top here, hmm? so, sorry. OTL
take care, guys.