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
Written 25 March 2011
I told myself I would do so much. I told myself I would be responsible and focus on my goals. But there comes a point in your life when you realize you’ve been staring out of the window for a half-hour when you told yourself you would work on these goals. And there comes a point that follows where the pen suddenly attaches itself to the paper and the words that come out aren’t the words of the essay you were supposed to be writing; but rather, words that make you realize that the daydreaming window-gaze really wasn’t such a loss of time after all. When you realize that you’ve got plenty of time in this world to waste a little bit letting your brain wander. Because you realize that all you have right now is this moment and there’s no point in bringing yourself down dwelling on future moments. There comes a point when you realize there are priorities of yours that need to eventually be met. Someday soon. But not now.
And then there comes a point that follows when you realize you feel too happy to care.
