Death

It's 4 am Christmas morning and I find my mind racing. 

My brain has a way of thinking things wether I want it to or not seems not to matter much to it at all. I began by thinking about my lover and how strongly it is I feel for her. Our love is almost impossible to put into words, in fact I almost think it makes the word love seem incredibly dry.

However then my brain started thinking about the future and when one of us passes on, yes my biggest fear. It rips out my very heart to even think about it but I cannot help but indulge and press forward in my thinking. Perhapse I like the punishment but I keep hoping if I think on it enough ill figure out a way for it to be okay. I mean life can't be that horrible in the end can it?

I then started thinking about my death and how I'll two and what the process will be like. I try to wrap my head around it in the simplest way, that I will merely stop existing forever. My stomach quakes and I find myself gripped in a terror and fear that cannot be compared to anything. Here I am on Christmas losing in the bed I slept in when I was a kid staring at the grim reaper.

I tend not to think about what happens after death but now I'm fascinated by it and much more what we even are. Am I simply the product of my brain interacting with the world. But we say "my brain" so it is as if we OWN our brain which applies we are something else entirely. I know I'm thinking along the lines of souls but I'm sorry atheists can YOU accept that you're just going to cease to exist? I cannot fathom or accept it. I know my brain is programmed to survive but why? To reproduce? But why? What for? Is the world truly that cruel or are we just TOO  evolved? 

I look around me and see all these people young to old, some kind, some unkind but all of them so full of LIFE Even the ones that are douchebags. I cant imagine any of them dying in the sense that they no longer are or ever will be again in any way. Also if death is so final then why are we killing EACHOTHER and volunteering for war, why mist there be killing and such defile things. I would think if people appreciated life they wouldn't take it or throw it away without fear.

It makes sense why there are so many religions dealing with the afterlife as it seems impossible to accept ones end. But I really wonder if that's it. Perhapse this is out of fear and desperation but I intend to find out and look into this a bit more.

Sorry for the early morning philosophy but yet again I had to get it down somewhere.

I'll cut it off here as I could go on about this for a long time.

Angst of the White Collar Variety

Work; what is there to say? It's something we have to do if we want to get by and go anywhere. I used to enjoy my job, I thought it was pretty amazing. but the nature of working at a callcenter is starting to become more and more apparent.  I make about 1.05 over minimum wage to hold the position I do and to go handle whatever comes at me every day

Working here is like having an abusive girlfriend or boyfriend. You have to spend the time and convince yourself that they aren't that bad and that you have to stick with the relationship because you will never have anything better again and in my case it's true. Even if I wanted to get a different job I can't. I have to stay "stable" to sponsor the women I love and I need the medical benefits. Yes my job may be an abusive mistress but she gives me what I need financially and in the end we are all sellouts. At least that's what I keep telling myself to make it feel better.

I want to start seriously focusing on writing even though I know it won't lead to salvation I still keep hoping. Right now hope is all I've got, hopes and dreams are what get me through the long hours at this desk getting yelled at by people who have never spoken to me before in their lives. I read blogs written by authors who claim that writing is long, boring, and not very profitable unless you are Stephen King or Sephanie Meyer. but somehow I think it would all be worth it. The time and effort and the struggle all to get published. Then again at this point and time who knows what I want. Right now I just want to go down the street and throw down a few drinks until the world feels fuzzy and sit down at my computer and write something no matter how awful it may be.

Maybe this is a slump, we all have them right? I can just hope this slump is quickly overcome and life can go back to being manageable again. These next two days off will be my recoperation time. Who knows perhaps I'll get something accomplished. That wouldn't be too bad. but for now I'm going to go back to reading instead of writing angsty blog entries like a highschool girl.

Jamming the Pen in my Brain

So I made a blog. I don't really expect anyone to read it, nor do I plan on speaking in depth on my life. I am making this blog to be an abstract presentation of my thoughts as they work in abstract ways I have no way to organize them so my best hope is to throw them into cyberspace and maybe work with them at a later time.


My purpose for doing this is because I want to write as I have wanted to do many other things that I never fallowed up with. My closets are filled with my discarded hopes and dreams as they accumulated in vast ammounts over the course of my 21 years on this planet. I'm lazy, uncommited, unmotivated, and generally very easily distracted. So the least I can do to try and keep this fire alive in me is to write this blog. Put my thoughts on the screen so I can go back to them and maybe practice writing while I am at it.

That's why this blog is called "Pen In Brain" because at times my brain becomes so full of ideas and the need to "express" that I just want to jam a pen in it to release the pressure. This is the safe equivelant to that. So it's up to you if you want to sit here and watch me stick a pen in my brain or if you have better things to do. Really it's fine either way. but I'll be here all the while, Jamming a pen in my brain.