sometimes I see/hear the creative output of people I know and I think “yes, I get that”
but most of the time, when I see/hear the creative output of people I know, my brain screams “FUCK YOU I DON’T BELIEVE YOU” and I have nowhere to express it but here.

 Nobody wants to be accused of trying to be Bukowski. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be accused of trying to be Jean-Michel either, I don’t want to be accused of trying to be anything. I don’t want that because I try to be everything and I don’t want to be reminded that I’m trying. It is hard to stay motivated when your creative idols were tortured. One becomes tortured just thinking about it. It’s hard to stay motivated.

the kinda blues

dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

n. the sad awareness that the unfolding plot of your life feels new and profound but is not unique, just one of a few dozen possible riffs on the same chord progression, while the tunes reverberating from the jukebox in your chest are all covers of old standards from the Great Emotional Songbook, which is 98% identical to that of the chimpanzee.

via dictionaryofobscuresorrows

it’s four days before my 24th birthday and i’ve just come to the realisation that I wasted so much time when I was younger on worrying I wasn’t normal- that it wasn’t normal to feel certain things, that it wasn’t normal to want to make art all the time, that it wasn’t normal to analyze my thoughts and actions, and those of other people. worrying about this shit caused so many problems- I hid my true feelings, I made myself ugly, i gave myself permanent scars, I kept up relationships with people that were harmful to my sense of self and the things I want to achieve in my life.
now i can look at myself, both in the mirror and in my thoughts, and feel pretty fucking good about everything that makes me who I am.
the modern world is a strange place. I read an article tonight that places our civilization in it’s late middle age. technology is crazy, and culture has been repeating itself for 20 years. living in a highly connected, self conscious and self referential age begets all kinds of fucked up-ness in modern youth, and I’ve found the key to surviving the inevitable pangs of crippling existential depression is to view the world with an open mind, and express your feelings honestly. it took a lot of falls, but the level of self worth I have these days is worth all the hard work.
nothing comes easy. going anywhere requires a journey. television and celebrity culture and cars mean absolutely nothing. survival of our ecosystem and the continuing exchange of higher thoughts and ideas between people are what really matter. distractions from the world’s problems will always be there, but avoiding them and actually being present in our time and preparing for our future is the smarter option.
to sum up my pre-birthday musings: fuck normality. just be authentic. it’s what you, and the world, needs.