Today is the new Tomorrow

 Currently 9:08am. I find myself again, swayed by the thought of writing. Many days, I cannot even fathom what I would say. Yet at this time I can't help but write about my disparity between my humanity and my ever present disconnect. I have moments of pure comfort with society, laughing at the moments with enjoyment with everyone around me. These moments come and go, but there's always a lingering voice, a shadow, a wound. This small entity, shows it's face with such vigor at times. It's almost too much to bear. This face that is shown can fling and throw every moment and cause absolute chaos. It's hideous demeanor can only be seen briefly though, for too much can cause society to shun it. Too many a time I have shown it to be greeted with disgusted faces, and scoffs of disapproval. To the few that see it though, I hope that it brings comfort, for when it is comforted it flourishes. As of now, I know that these two sides can only exist if they give each other the lime light. I realize now the more I try to fit myself into a box of society, the more I tend to wince my tongue at it's sour taste. There will be a day I hope, when I can finally breathe when I can finally expand my fingers to touch life again. The only hope is that it comes soon, for all I can see is the blinding light of pure joyfulness. 

Another day

 Currently 12:23Am. I find myself in a time where everything I feel is empty. Nothing of value matters, nothing makes sense. Tonight among many nights, I feel like I'm wasting my time. Socialization makes me feel all the more lost. I realize that too much socialization makes me feel like everything moves too fast. As if I'm trying to blend in with the many others obsessed with the comforting feelings of being with each other. I keep trying to deny this thing inside my atoms. It's like I was never meant to be amongst the joyful crowds. At some point, I think, I may just quit. I would quit drowning myself in social comfort. To be true to myself means cutting off the rotting flesh of my limbs. The only purpose of socialization, should be to confidently reaffirm my idea of reality. To balance my ideas with the ideas of the unreal would be to coax mental instability, as such I should try to communicate with the living to a degree in which would be acceptable, even if it may be only but a minute of socializing. At some point, I will leave, I think and my entire online existence will be this blog. Completely personal, and never in dire need for another, I will sit here, in complete isolation. Maybe then it will bring me joy and meaning, or finally goad me into ending my pitiful existence. 

Finding comfort

 It's 12:55am It pains me to say these days hold no value to me. With November came a time to rejoice with family, and loved ones. Along with the stuffing, the turkey, warmth and comfort of living in a home, came the truly intense sadness. For as someone such as I, one cannot be comforted by the presence of family. I have this thing that makes me more than uncomfortable, with family. It's as if being near them I have to plaster this smile and take in part of their merriment. It is simply not in me, I am not of the people made with that intact. Forever I feel distant from my blood, and this is not in part of me disliking my culture, or my skin but another entirely alternative hate for the comfort of others. It's never felt 'correct'. I'm not sure if it's because of my childhood, or something I've developed in the past few years. I know for a fact though, that being near others always puts me in a mood of sadness or incorrect place. Even now, as I make online friendships, and bonds, I'm starting to have that distant echo to cut everything off. Like severing the excess fat from my hips. Snipping away at my skin, and muscle. I think as I grow older I might have a sense that I should appreciate family and friends, while I still can. I already have appreciated everything, I just don't think I could ever be happy around humanity. Society, humanity, they are simply too far from me. Too far to want to love, to far to care about, too far to truly sense them anymore. I don't know, this feeling, it's pervasive, it's enveloping, comfortable. It's completely... well... ME.

Distancing

 Currently 11:50pm. It is another night I find myself in a sea of emotion. Oh how I've missed this. It's enough to make my heart swell, my eyes water, my soul sing. I keep finding myself in this area of life where I am looking through a window at others. The older I grow, the father I stray from humanity. I think at some point, I will be in a place so far that I will no longer look through this window, the glass no longer peaking my curiosity. Is it normal I wonder? Is this a certainty that everyone who ages will come to this same conclusion? At times I wonder if my words and actions hold any meaning. I can gloat, I can praise, I can do many a thing, but it all seems meaningless. In the end, the only reasoning behind these things is the meaning that I choose to give it. I can throw a tantrum, and destroy every relationship I've ever had, throw myself into a river of traffic, and like a glimmer from a shard of glass, my life could extinguish. What does one even need the reasoning behind meaning? I think, it's because of this human need to find reasoning in existence. To have some sort of comfort in a chaotic and uncaring life. I would be lying to say I've never heard the call to the end. Regardless, it is not in my best interest to fling myself into such thoughts, there is still much to do before the end. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but the end will always be there, and to a certain degree I find comfort in it. Comfort in the day that it might finally come, and whisk me away. 

The long drive

 It was a long drive from my cabin to the city. I could feel the wind flowing through my hair, my skin slowly beginning to crawl with bumps along my arms. The whiff of grease and oil caught my nose, within seconds I could imagine the flavors all mixed with sauces in a bun. "Oh how delicious" I thought, how one could possibly make such a delectable treat. My mouth began to water at the thought. The road, winding showed no signs of progression, grassy knolls, upon grassy knolls, dead weeds upon dead weeds. I glanced around my broken metal tank, the bag filled with a meaty treat still called to me. The tank was littered with patches of clothing, some wrinkled bags, and crumbs of a forgotten taste. The putter of the engine drowned out the lingering noise of this taste, alas it reared it's head again, whispering to me, yelling at me to claw until I could no longer refuse! I halted the machine to a stop, the roar no longer whimpering in my ears. As I stretched my arms to this delicious meal, I paused a moment to check my surroundings, be it on Halloween that something would go awry in my journey to the city. Empty, all alone. No one to disturb me. I opened the brown bag to reveal the beauty sloppily sliding off of the well rounded bun. As it touched my lips, my tongue, I could not stop myself from tossing it around, the tender strings of meat tough, but all the more chewy. I slobbered for another bite until the meal was no more. I shivered with intensity, no more was this meaty beauty in this world, I could no longer taste such a marvel! A world without this? Nay! I REFUSE. Aloud I scoffed, and exited my metal home. I ran to the end of this marble made car, my keys in hand, and opened the trunk. Looking back at me, with eyes wider than the sun a young sack of flesh pleading for mercy. I couldn't help but smirk again, to think I would let such precious meat go to waste! She struggled in her bindings, but I knew all too well of how one fleshy meal could escape me. Hidden in a compartment, was my tools, the flawlessly curved blades, hacksaw, and of course ropes. I could not wait any longer, my mouth had begun to miss the taste of heavenly flesh no longer could I wait for another opportunity I would eat it THEN and THERE. So I began to hack, in and out, in and out, oh and her cries wailed into the night! Oh how she cried so! And I too cried aloud so enamored by her bleats of mercy. Oh how delicious. (Hope you had a good Halloween!)

The Allure of Suicide

 It's 8:55pm. There's no doubt in my mind that everyone who has ever breathed a breath of air has considered suicide at some point in their life. I'm sitting here, with nothing but the taste of death on my breath. "Oh how I would love to die in the arms of my lover!" They scream with such vivacity. I have fantasized many times of how I would die, in a sea of blood, the bullets hitting my flesh as bits of my being slowly rip from my bones. Or another time how I would simply swerve a little to the left hitting the oncoming truck with the full force of American made metallic muscle. How the flames of the fire would begin to singe and melt my skin away in a few agonizing minutes. Or even a simpler one, where I could use a shotgun and taste the iron on my lips before my teeth spring onto my brain making their own shotgun shells. No my death is sure to be a gruesome one, I think. Alas, I doubt it, more than likely I slip on a wet surface of my dingy apartment floor and use my brain as a cushion before my brittle bones could break the fall. How pitiful, truly it is to be elderly always watching to not accidently swallow too fast or too slow, to not forget to take a certain pill lest you shit yourself. I wish I had died sooner, I keep thinking. When I was younger I thought I would die by 21 I didn't expect to be alive right now. Now that I am, I don't know why to keep on living. I guess it's to better humanity in some way, but what if we don't have a reason to? There's no reason to trying to better this pounds of flesh that move within the walls of society, in fact there's not a fathomable reason to even be nice, then why try so hard? Maybe we should just leave each other to die. I mean, after all we all gotta die sometime. 

Boredom

 Currently 8:08pm. Tonight I come with tidings of boredom. It seems so prevalent now, I seem to always be in a rut. I can't enjoy things anymore. I think I'm a little messed up, but I don't like to dwell on this. Often times I throw myself into twitch, I feel I get a lot of my social needs from streamers, and streaming alike. It's important to connect, truly for mental stability. The thing is, I don't enjoy it. I throw money at a lot of people because it brings me relief of a sort, like I'm doing something genuinely unselfish, when in reality I get more benefits than anything else. I'm a very selfish person. I've been told multiple times that these relationships on twitch are parasocial, which I find it absolutely true. On the other hand, I don't really mind it, but at the same time the watcher gets satisfaction with the attention the streamer gives them. I think it's a ridiculous substitution for genuine friendships but to people like me, completely inept and uninterested in meaningful relationships, I find it stupidly important to keep my mental stability intact. Someone such as I, who is very selfish can find comfort and ease in dropping a couple subs or donations to for a brief moment have satisfying unselfishness, or a pathetic version of the illusion. At the end of the day, twitch is great in terms of that, but at the same time I feel like part of me is dying, as if I can't genuinely craft myself in my mind. I found myself talking to myself much less than I usually do, which I find concerning. There's always a streamer on the other side just a click away. So why even begin to question myself, when there's someone out there who I can divert my attention to? I miss myself, I think I need to chill out on the social stuff. It doesn't feel right, it never does. I feel like I'm dying. I'm so tired. 

Reviewing Martyrs

 It's 9:48pm, I finished watching Martyrs a few days ago, so I'll try and recall the interesting points and what I really liked etc. In the earlier parts of the movie, you're introduced to two main characters. One that is plagued by an immense amount of trauma, and another who is her supportive friend trying to help her make sense of her situation. It begins with the traumatized individual murdering a family which really makes it out to be a very intense introduction to the movie. I found it very jarring to go from one point to the next, but it works very well. It works so well because it really translates the dramatic shift into real life. One day, you could be the happiest you've ever been, have a nice coffee or enjoying a good book, and then poof you get a call telling you someone you know has died tragically in a motorcycle accident. It's very real, because this family is so normal they have such normal things that happen in a regular every day suburban family. It turns out, that they harbor a dark secret. This family has a basement where they torture young women to elicit a martyr or someone who is tortured so relentlessly until they have a transcendent experience and are able to see into heaven, or hell? I'm not exactly sure. Before that, the traumatized woman who murdered the family, apparently has a demon which is a depiction of trauma, a lingering infection of what was. I think it was really good the way they added that into it, it felt placed correctly because it in fact made sense that someone who's ordeals were so intense they would create a delusion that would in a way remind them of the trauma they went through. It does make sense the woman ends up committing suicide in the movie. The issue I have was in the way they made it to be a little too gruesome as if it was a way to make the viewer feel uneasy or provoke the viewer to a feeling of disgust. In the later parts of the film I kind of got a little confused as to why I should even feel disgusted at what they torture the other supporting character with. It was food and the senseless beatings that confused me. I might've missed the point in whether or not it should've been in the movie at all. Why not torture the woman in an even more cruel way? I couldn't understand it. It felt very forced. Also there was another tortured lady who had no place in being in the movie, because she ends up being killed midway as well, kind of a cheap way of trying to force more gruesome images in the movie. It seemed like a waste of runtime to show someone who didn't want to be helped, and ended up dying senselessly. There were some plot holes as well, why didn't the supporting character just use the vehicle she came in with, to take the woman to the hospital? It made little sense. In all the movie was enjoyable but I can understand very well why some reviewers call it 'Torture porn' at times it feels like it wasn't thought out very well in the plot, some unneeded violence, but some scenes were well made, the makeup artists did a really good job in showing the gruesomeness of the scenes. 

Reviewing Thor: Love and Thunder

 It's currently 9:23pm. It's been a while, I haven't really had much of the 'feeling' of posting anything. It's a bit like saying I don't really have any creativity, so in that way I want to apologize. In Thor: Love and Thunder there are two things you have to take away from it's message, one: Love is painful. The second, that no matter how many things life with throw at you, you can choose to bathe in disappointment, and sadness or choose to live again. Throughout the Thor series of movies, you can't help but feel a bit depressed yourself, at how many trials Thor has to endure in his quest of being an adventurous god. His people, his family, his love, and even his weapons, tend to end in some way. I think this was seen really well in an earlier movie: Avengers Endgame. You could finally see that Thor was in a state of complete defeat. Not only was he in a dark place, but the way he carried himself was in a way that really emphasized his desire to make something 'right'. I think this movie should've delved a little more in the direction of rebuilding himself. Thor wasn't really ready for another defeat. In this movie, I appreciate that he was trying to figure out who he was, but I felt it never really went in when it came to it. He was supposed to be someone who only lives to fight for others, yet it never really felt like it would be the right fit when his fights always end up in a very messy way, for someone who wants to help others out, it feels half assed when he destroys things in the ensuing fights. I really liked Jane Foster's arc in this movie it really felt like she had one direct objective, either live to fight another day, complacent in an important battle, or to die a hero in glory. I really liked how she ended up dying in the arms of another Thor. It felt right that Jane would have to die, even though she could've survived. In the end, Thor ends up with a child who is as if not more powerful than he is. I don't really think that was a very good way to end the movie, I think it should've explored more of his time with an interest of having a child of his own. It's an end all be all band-aid to his even growing traumas. I think the next movie, Thor should die. Unfortunately, his arc seems over, Chris Hemsworth should retire the character, only because of the way they kind of made Thor out in the stories that were made of him. I would like for Thor to continue in a way, maybe if they let him be in Avenger's movies or Guardians movies, but it really seems like he is at the end of his rope. It might be time for him to hand over the mantle of Thor to another, maybe his child at the end of Love and Thunder? In all I think this movie should've been Thor figuring out his place in the world, exploring the depth of his traumas, and exploring more of his interest in having a child, becoming a father. I did enjoy the aspect of Love and Jane's arc. I hope in the future that there's more of him and maybe another movie with a more in-depth perspective of Thor. 

Sorrow

 It's 11:05pm. I'm a little drunk, but at the same time I'm completely conscious. Tonight I greet you with immense sadness, a sadness that pulls at my heartstrings enough to elicit tears. Yet I do not weep. I do not have it in me to cry, to love, to enjoy. It is tonight of all nights that I have this sadness within my hollow body, one that will eventually fade. I do not whimper at it, in fact I embrace this sadness as whole fully as I possibly can, only because I know this will dissipate into ashy dust. Lately, nothing really hurts, nothing really makes me happy, nothing really does anything for me. I go to liquor to try and make me feel something other than this emptiness that vibrates throughout my entire body. I wish I was like others, at times. Oh how I wish I could be like them! Oh how they laugh and feel with such intensity! Oh how they love and hate with such passion! Toss me into the ocean with the corpses of the lost, for who will remember a nobody such as I? Such as one like me, who lives on the fringes of society like a parasite suckling the last drop of blood from an already decaying corpse. Who else but me, that has the gall to pretend to be something special. Feed me to the dogs.

Another nightmare part 2

 It's currently 2:42am. I had another nightmare, this time I dreamt about suicide. I met an old man about the age of 54. He began to regale me with stories of his time living near a frozen lake. This place was a frozen tundra, about a town of 30-50 people. He told me of the common frequency of the suicides that have taken place near his home, in the lake. He told me stories of the elderly that grew tired of living who decided to enter the icy abyss of the lake, they would make a hole, and dive in, never to return. It wasn't until later that he managed to fish some of them out. One elderly man, another younger woman, and someone else who I cannot for the life of me remember. What I do remember, was each of their skin color, pale as milk. Their hands were stiff, and mangled in opposite directions, their eyes were bloodshot, and yet still. I began to imagine myself in their position, I would make a hole, I would take my final breath of air and jump into it. Full body and all, I would feel the cold at first, my muscles stiffening, my lungs begin to give out, filling with cool water, then numbness. A numbness to end the numbness, a final slumber to end all slumbers. My final view would be at the icy blue color of the frozen water above me, a final glimpse into beauty. 

Take

 Currently 10:31pm. I'm sitting here, in another apathetic state. It feels more intense now, these days just blur into the next. I have no feelings sometimes, no amount of human contact will ever relieve me of such intense apathy. It's less of an annoying feeling, more like a constant in my life now. I assume it will become more of a comfortable emotion at some point. I wonder if at some point I will no longer enjoy anything permanently. If one becomes so numb, they no longer feel... are they still human? I don't know if I will succumb to this numbness, in time I will know. For now, I will distance myself from others. I will play with this apathy, maybe I could learn from it. I'm just really tired. I'm so tired. 

Another nightmare

 It's currently 10:16pm. 

It happened again, another nightmare. I tend to never dream, I tend to sleep and wake as any normal person does. Yet lately, I have been dreaming of torturous moments before my utter demise. This one, unlike the others, I found myself boarding a plane. This plane held an assortment of people, some young some old, and myself. All was well until we began to land, everyone was at ease. Even as we landed most of the people there were level headed, "oh yeah he's cutting it close but I'm sure it's fine". It was only when I heard a guttural scream from the end of our plane, then a metal clanking from above. I remember trying to keep myself calm, as people from the end began to get flung out of the end. The fuel of the jet, is at the end, so since I was more up front, I would most likely survive. I even began to believe to see myself in the future, mangled, and scarred but still alive, telling reporters of the story of the crash. It was then, my back and legs began to feel the heat of the flames from behind, and the metal clashing from just behind my seat. I felt blissful as the end neared my pitiful life. I knew it was over, and just then I awoke. I have had many nightmares, of my death. It's too often that I have begun to believe I have some sort of interest in the morbid nature of seeing my own demise. It's interesting too, the dreary feeling of lingering death. Maybe deep down, it is some sort of guilty desire to die. I will continue to divulge these nightmares, as I know they will continue to plague my mind. Until death truly takes me... 

Again

 Currently 3:53AM Tonight I feel incredibly empty. Earlier, I could not fathom any other feelings but complete and utter loneliness. Loneliness, it enveloped my entire being, as such a fire that burns completely a piece of wood. Yet this flame would not singe me with it's burning flame, on the contrary, it's blue hue left me feeling cold and withered. Do you know what it's like to see them, who smile and enjoy the merriment of others, and to feel no sort of feelings whatsoever in the face of that? Who but a beast of the woods would empathize with one so distraught?  It's quite alienating, as so I have said before. Oh but so many a time I would relay this story of courageous gleam! What a disaster to never be like them. I have realized this feeling of loneliness, at some time I would say this feeling would be alien but I have now realized it is more comfortable than many other feelings. It's cold embrace, and how I miss it so! Maybe I should learn to share and dig my nails into it more often, for what of the times I so many I am with others but to never truly enjoy myself. I am not like them, but a beast of the woods. Take me, far away from these mounds of flesh, let me become another beast of the woods, forevermore.