Picture
What do you want? 
What do I want?
What do we all want?

Yesterday, I met with a person very dear to me. To be even more precise, I met with a man who I really love. Now what puzzles me is, can an 18 year old individual feel so strongly for someone? Let me assure you, this is not one of those LOVES that happened in 15 minutes. The man and I spent two lovely years together and our emotions built up inside of us gradually.

Unfortunately, at the peak of our love, we had to say goodbye to each other. I am not going to explain this. It would take me a 800 page novel to do so. My question is, why did we meet? Why do people constantly go back to something that they are trying to overcome or beat down? For the death of me, I am unable to understand this because I am emotionally poor. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I am unable to feel. I am simply refusing to let my emotions meddle with my decisions. But is that good? And by the way, Virgo is my zodiac sign. Virgos constantly try to be unemotional, almost mechanical. The problem is: in truth, we are actually highly emotional and tend to be very irrational. At least, I'm that kind of a Virgo. I don't know for the rest of you. Apparently, there are different kinds.

Let me set aside the zodiac for a moment. You cannot determine people with it. Things would be a lot easier if this was true, right? Sometimes I wish I could read people's minds and know what is going on instantly. I guess life would be boring for me if I had this ability.

Picture
As I let my feelings burn a hole inside of me this morning, I came to a conclusion that emotions are our biggest problem because they pull us back from our life path more often than we think. That is why we are trying to create all this stuff, this mechanical junk that pollutes our lives and minds. That's the beauty of it: the thing is mechanical, it doesn't feel! Does your flat screen have emotions? No. Does your laptop have emotions? No. I am pretty sure it doesn't, otherwise it would scream of agony every time you log into Facebook or some other dumb social networking website.

 So what's my point? You cannot kill your emotions, or can you? Gobble down a handful of Valium and a bottle of vodka and you won't be able to feel anything. Your body will be so numb and your brain will yell: "the subscriber is not temporarily available!" But I guess poisoning yourself is not the solution. The solution would be to deal with it, to find a road that suits your rational side and your emotional parts. I don't mean: "get married, have a enormous bunch of kids and you've solved all your problems forever" kind of thing. Marriage and birth is also not a solution. It's something that will settle you temporarily. A family pulls an enormous amount of responsibility onto your shoulders. Are you ready to deal with it?

Picture
Now, since I am losing my grip on this post, you are probably asking yourself: "What does this have to do with the title of the post?" Well, I'm getting there. Keep your pants on for a moment. As I was saying, I thought about many things this morning and I decided I would turn myself "off" for a while. What do I mean? I mean that I will try to shut my emotions down, to rest from them because I am sick and tired of feeling a thousand different things every morning when I wake up. I want to focus on my education, my career, my blogs, my writing especially. I haven't written a story in two years, or even more! All I have been writing for the past two years is poetry, in two languages - English, and my native language because I felt kind of bad writing in English, and not writing in Serbian. I'm a traitor of my own culture. I want to focus on my health too. 

Did you ever listen to the song "Gallons of Rubbing Alcohol Flowing Through the Strip" by Nirvana? Well, there were gallons of rubbing alcohol flowing through MY BODY for ages. I am not an alcoholic, mind you. I always drink when I go out and in company. You just have to understand one thing before I continue: I live in a country where it is completely normal to drink like a maniac. Bosnia is similar to Russia when it comes to the matter of alcohol. Anyway, my health is down to 20% and I have no money to go from doctors to other doctors. Apparently, I am in the process of getting an ulcer. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands and I invented a great diet for myself, and also decided to become a vegetarian. 


Then, this morning I realized: I am babbling with myself for 30 minutes already and I smoked 10 cigarettes in this process. I realized that I am emotionally anemic, or better said: I am a fantastic adult when it comes to responsibilities, education, work, chores and the mechanical and unemotional parts of life. But when it comes to emotions, I know how to feel them and how to live through them but I AM UNABLE, for the death of me again, to REALIZE how to live WITH them and work with them in synchronization with my body. 
This is my emotional failure, and I won't deny it. 
I get afraid of myself often. 
What to do?
Keep writing. 

-Piper Blurred

 
Picture
                                          The Void
                                 (We Sucked It All In)


When you walk down the street, do you ever feel like there is something missing around you? As if a piece of life's puzzle got lost underneath some bed, you try to figure out your story and the story of others but you can't put the facts together. 

Does it seem logical to you that we evolved from monkeys? I'm not sure, but I suppose the other monkeys should have shown signs of evolution too. And what about Stonehenge? I seriously doubt that "thing" was used for praying and sacrificing. When you look at the evidence, at that time they didn't even have the correct tools to build such a huge monument. And atop of all, it's still standing while some buildings that we build today, crumble and fall as if they were made out of gingerbread. 

You live your life. I don't care if you choose to live it regularly, or alternatively, as long as you live it and as long as you don't hurt anybody on purpose in this whole "complicated" process of breathing air and shitting used food. But you try to put the pieces together, right? Sometimes you feel like you can't, right? And as you walk on through your daily chores and entertainment, you realize that all the facts are spinning around like crazy. It feels like they want to suck you into a black hole and you have no idea where it will take you because black holes are still a mystery to scientists. 

Or are they?
What are they hiding from us? They're hiding something. But what?
How does that make you feel? I could scream at them for days, I would torture them to tell me. Although, sometimes, I'm not sure I want to know the whole truth. What if it's terrible? What if we are something that we actually are not? There are so many questions floating inside a person's mind, but the answers are lost or unavailable. It's the same thing when you try to call someone, and the network service tells you: "The subscriber is now temporarily unavailable, please call later."

Our governments do the same thing. However, they are not "temporarily" unavailable, but "forever" unavailable. When it's time for the elections, and when we actually and finally choose to vote for somebody else, that "somebody else" sits at the parliament chair and repeats the whole damn thing. And we're back at the start, we do the same things all over again. But even then, our questions remain unanswered. I wish I could read their minds. I wonder what kind of unpleasant things roam inside their neural synapses. They float around like ugly black stains and they poison the air with the shit they say on live TV. But we don't care, because we're not doing anything about it.

Well, that guy that created WikiLeaks, Julian, apparently did something. And he darn well did a great job! He really scared the baby Jesus out of them, because as soon as his Leaks spread across the world, all these politicians started sweating on TV and they started making up excuses that clearly WERE NOT excuses. 

But still, it feels like something is seriously missing. But what?




This is your new blog post. Click here and start typing, or drag in elements from the top bar.
 
Image and video hosting by TinyPic
Summer is gone.
Unfortunately, it left the smells of happiness in the air. I took a whiff today, and I almost passed out. I could not take the sudden flash of memories. They overwhelmed my brain. If I could only feel what I once felt on those blasted afternoons during my vacation. I felt invincible. I felt like I could kill the moon and drag it down to the ground without even blinking. 
These feelings have changed now. I fear that some things will follow me around for the rest of my life. I am drawing circles around my destiny, if God wants to send me a message: he better do it now. He took a few very precious things away from me. He owes me a favor, now. But I guess you cannot talk to God like that. God is invisible.


Winter his here.
It is so cold that I wish I could snatch the sun from the sky and hide in underneath my pullover. I hate snow, it reminds me of emptiness and nothingness. It reminds me of everything that comes between life and death, something stuck in the middle. My conscience is sitting alone, in a room full of madmen, screaming at the top of her lungs. Nobody can hear her. Nobody can hear me. I could try using a microphone but I know it would not help. What's going on? Who pulled the plug in a bathtub full of my emotions?


Spring will come soon.
I am afraid of the oncoming year. For the past two years, a thousand events marked my life deeply. I do not have enough strength or patience to climb through another similar year. This life has too much knowledge and too much ignorance packed together in the same suitcase.
The elevator of my life is going up and down, it's picking up anonymous people and dropping them off at different levels inside my head. I don't want this. I want to run away. I want to get away before THEY get me, before the demons of modernism, capitalism and consumerism finally catch me and stick me into a cage made out of glass. 

I have to forget what I know about fighting. Fighting is not enough. Rebellion is not enough. Forsaking God is not enough. Nothing is enough, and everything is too much. Take me away from the 21st century. This period is not for me. I was supposed to live in the 80s or 70s. This "idiocracy" is not compatible with my mind, with my stubborn rationality.
Sometimes, suicide seems lovely. I would do it, I swear I would do it if I knew my mother would not cry for me. But hell, I would not do it like most people do: alone, in a very pathetic and drunken way. I would do it in public. I would grab a hand grenade, I would march right down to the main government building in my city and I would trigger the thing. Then, while still holding down on the pin, I would waltz right into the room where all the ministers and presidents of presidents gather. I would, then, let go of the pin and scream: "I'm taking you to hell with me! You won't torture the people of this country anymore! I am your worst fears come true!!!" 
Then we would all die, shattered into a thousand pieces, our brains and guts splattered upon the walls.
Hell, it would take an entire cleaning squad to scrape me off those walls. 
But no. Suicide is my last resort. You can call me a terrorist. I suppose most Americans would, after reading what I just wrote about the hand grenade. The problem is that most "Americans" don't get it. This would not be terrorism. This act would be killing the scum who are constantly abusing poor and innocent people. Believe me, nobody would miss them. That's how disgusting they are.

If my mother saw what I just wrote, she would cry. But I know she would secretly be proud of me. Sounds unusual? It is.


My mother is unusual. She is the greatest mother a person could have. If God came down from the sky and told me: "Piper, do you want to change your mother?" I swear I would say: "Never, God. Never in this entire f**king world would I trade my mother for somebody else." That's how great she is.
Enough with this pathetic post. I suppose you are already sick of me. Sometimes I can be so dark. I'm not dark, I'm just too realistic for my age. I wish I was ignorant, and stupid. Then, I would not have to think about this. I would not have such a blog. I would have a blog about Barbie dolls or something of the sort.

I'm putting an end to this right now.



(I apologize if I offended anybody in this text, it was not my intention to do so. I am just expressing my opinion on certain things, and if you do not like it: then do not visit my blog. I am a straightforward person and if you don't like posts like these, I bid you farewell.)

(Any questions, ideas, replies, answers, suggestions you can send to me on: hits.of.sunshine@hotmail.com or leave a comment below. Don't forget to follow me! If you want regular updates, then follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/PiperSaysPunk ///Thank you for reading!)

-Yours,
Piper Blurred