| Diarrhea dialogue... |
[Nov. 4th, 2007|12:48 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  Anguished | ] |
| [ | music |
| | TV On The Radio - Hours | ] |
It seems my mouth is just large enough to fit my foot.
Sometimes I wonder just how much trouble my big mouth will get me in.
-Neimah |
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|
| Fun with words! |
[Oct. 26th, 2007|03:51 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  Regal | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Immolation - Unholy Cult | ] |
Emperor.
Fruit yogurt.
Zombie.
revolving door.
island.
impalement.
incorrect assumption!
competition.
classification.
definitions.
lighter fluid.
pomegranate.
mickey d monopoly.
suffer for glory
sacrifice for gain.
children children children children children.
-Neimah |
|
|
| Where I stand.... |
[Oct. 5th, 2007|03:33 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | depressed | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Meat Puppets - Leaves | ] |
Moments of great life transition always seem to bring out my inner pessimist. In times like these I often find misery to be a pervading glow to my daily activities. Whats more is that I can never seem to pinpoint any specific source of misery. This just adds to my general confusion as I start to misnomer all of my joy with the faults and accusations of inadequacy and doubt. My misery and doubt then is compacted with the general malaise of joblessness and I find my self to be essentially useless. To make matters more fun and interesting, I start to ascribe my disgust and frustration with my inactivity to my perceptions of my company. With these eyes, even the friendliest friends become judges that indignantly glare at you as an inferior.
Like a U-haul caught in north eastern fog, I grope endlessly for a road home. But all the highways intersect without warning, and all the street signs are in a language I don't remember how to read. I can see that I am not the only car stuck in traffic, yet I can't escape somehow feeling like I am the only one thats lost. I'm starting to think that the billboard that promised me a roadside zoo was just a mirage.
-Neimah |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Oct. 5th, 2007|03:28 pm] |
After a many moon hiatus from Livejournal.com I re-sign in to find that somehow my account has miraculously cataloged my un-posted misery. In the interest of completing unfinished tasks here it is posted in its un-edited glory. I find it amusing, I hope you do too.
After years of being show and told that I don't really mean jack shit to anybody I have decided to post a response.
Fuck each and every one of you.
No body cares about me? I'm not important to anybody (least of all my self) then fine you don't mean anything to me either.
Life will go on, and I'll keep pretending Im happy and nobody will care about anybody and this whole fucking selfish world will keep on turning out of spite and malice for human kind.
I want to scream so loud that this whole neighborhood falls apart, but I dont have the energy or the lung capacity.
It shouldnt matter that I mean nothing to other people. I should just matter to myself.
Instead I just feel like a piece of living garbage.
Tai chi could probably help me with this. Ron Navarre where are you now?>
-Neimah |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 27th, 2006|11:10 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Soaked and Angry | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  drunk | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Cryptopsy - In the kingdom where everything dies, the sky... | ] |
I'm trying to change my life.
I quit weed and cigarettes.
I still have many unresolved issues with many people. That's not all my fault.
I get angry when I am drunk.
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE!
Here's to being a "grown up".
Is it right to be mad at your friends for befriending people who are shitty to you?
What the fuck is a friend anyway?
-Neimah |
|
|
| Notice falling as a re-occuring theme... |
[Jul. 13th, 2006|12:21 am] |
I seem to be perpetually surrounded somehow by inoperable electronics. A broken Ipod has a way of putting a damper on my general demeanor. That is pleasingly paired with an endless series of vapid hours spent at my work, and on my couch. Its a winning combination. The real major problem with slowness at work is my propensity to deep, probing, depressing, introspective thought. In an eight hour day I can fully convince myself of .... (lost train of thought).
How fortuitous that Audrey and Victor should leave at the same time. Minimal forays into the land of the social have been launched and met with indeterminate results. Their recent departure has illuminated many of the qualities I share with some species of crustaceans. Somehow with them gone I feel lost, aimless. Without something to hold on to.
And in that last sentence lies the key. Somehow I turn people into my personal security blankets. I get all weird about it too. I get mad that I seem to be the only person that acquires these blankets somehow. And I get mad when my blankets don't seem(key word) to reciprocate my affections and yearnings (psychosis). So then I get mad at myself for being so crazy. There is this constant war of contradictory beliefs and feelings that bombard me on a daily basis. Swells of anger, sadness, guilt, and grief, all inspired by each other. My anger begets my sadness begets my guilt, begets my grief. It feeds itself to the point where it becomes overwhelming. Then I come dump it all here and hope to feel better.
This entry has been all nonsensical rambling.
I thank my 3 readers for their continued patronage.
Why oh why am I so fragile. I just want it to stop. I'm sure its annoying.
Anyone want to do something Thursday night? Call me, I'm looking for activity.
-Neimah |
|
|
| Seems that I have a lot to say today.... |
[Jul. 6th, 2006|06:24 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | bedroom, leather chair | ] |
| [ | mood |
| | relief | ] |
| [ | music |
| | faint sounds of reggae from someones car or apartment | ] |
I'm sick and tired of all this bull shit. I'm so mad at myself for having a livejournal for years. For years I tried to write these sorta cryptic messages that just elude to the things that I am really thinking and feeling. All of this self imposed imprisonment. What has it all accomplished? Perhaps the early stages of me alienating myself from the rest of the world. But then, who could blame me for shutting myself off from the social standard of interaction when I, like most people I assume, have to constantly face unbridled negativity and judgment from all sides? Constantly being surrounded by vultures who prey on my willingness to sacrifice myself to help others, never showing a kind word or act of appreciation. Or better yet, when I am met with more negativity. Like an immaculate slave, flawless in his craft and service, beaten like a dog anyway.
Then my conscious kicks in. Perhaps my perspective is jarred. Perhaps I only see situations and relationships from my perspective (alas, being only human), and if I were to take a look through someone else's eyes, I would see Neimah's actions sub par to all the personal sacrifices I (other person) make for him (neimah). So, I follow this course of thought and convince myself that I really do nothing more for other people than they do for me.
Thus the see-saw of my mental health rocks back and forth. I am victim, I am martyr. I kill myself for all of you every second of the day. I cut my arms and watch my blood flow down my clothing so you can eat your whole foods, so you can tell me to bus your dishes, so you can leave your beer cans all over the fucking living room. And in the end it was all a figment of my own imagination, because I never saw that you were bleeding too.
-Neimah |
|
|
| Time to be honest for a second.... |
[Jul. 6th, 2006|06:02 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | home, desk | ] |
| [ | mood |
| | broken | ] |
| [ | music |
| | sirens, fan | ] |
When I was 12 I tried to kill myself. Numerous times. I was never successful, obviously. I gave up my active pursuit of the afterlife with a new found dedication. No, not to life, but to satisfy my own curiosity. Fascinated with the world and its inevitable course I resigned myself to live only to discover what the future had in store. I am sad to report that ten full years later, the only future I can predict for humanity is one of destruction, destitution, depravity, and death. I have concluded that the state of human affairs is irreparable. The effect of my continuation in human society is negligible in the face of this despair. All I can really do is sit and wait until I am blown up in my home, thrown into some sort of work camp, or am eaten away by the cannibalistic wraiths that I share this planet with. I know almost no beautiful people or acts left in this world. The world I see is full of selfishness, and greed, fueled by our drugs to numb us from our communal pain. We all hurt, we all suffer, but we erroneously believe that our suffering is not only greater than everyone else’s, but that it is also unique. So to seek solace from our anguish we raze the will of the un-jaded youth. We beat them to the submission we call life. The cycle continues, dragging humanity, and earth into the sewers and cesspools of existence, until we self destruct because we have no further down to fall. I am guilty. You are guilty. I'd kill myself now, but who would want to miss the end of the world? I think it'll probably be a hell of a show.
-Neimah |
|
|
| Whats up with that? |
[Jun. 27th, 2006|06:19 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  groggy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Buzzing Fan | ] |
As I browsed the annuls of your cataloged boredom, I couldn't help asking why I wasn't sought for company.
-Neimah |
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