I'm trying to make a difference in this world. I'm trying to keep philosophy alive. I'm trying to influence your mind all the while mine is traveling an a billion directions at once.
I believe a little insanity is a good thing.
I'm inspired by life and I'm inspired by brains and nature and love and happiness and obsessiveness and anything else that's in this universe and outside of it. I think too much. I write compulsively. I don't want society to stop reading. I don't want society to stop creating. I want to contribute to this planet's literature that is so often hidden under media, pop culture, and other things that won't really matter in fifty years.
These are my thoughts, and I can't control them. I can't control the words that flow out of my brain and through my body.
This is word vomit. And I'm not cleaning it up.
of you
Realizing at 12:07 A.M. that you’re crying with laughter with your best friend and roommate and it’s officially your birthday is a good feeling. Realizing that you’ve finally reached the 20’s, that you’re out of your teens, that you are officially, absolutely in adulthood is a good feeling. But the feeling of knowing that your youth is officially in the past, that you will never be a teenager again, that you’ve grown up and aged and matured through all those awkward years of your adolescence and this, right here, in this moment, is the result of all that? And everything you loved in those past moments is now either old or gone and what once sparkled with youth and vibrancy is now dampered in its pressure to gain the responsibility and seriousness that is now officially in front of you, too. How is that feeling? Well, it’s 12:23 on that same night and this, right here, in this moment is difficult to comprehend. What I can comprehend though, right here, in this moment are my eyelids crusting with the dried tears of the aching and beautiful laughs of the happiness I shared with someone who is right here, in this moment. And it’s 12:30 A.M. and this, right here, in this moment, is perfect.
