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Melancholic
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The Breeze
   Sat Apr 28, 2012 4:53 pm

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The Breeze

Permanent Linkby Melancholic on Sat Apr 28, 2012 4:53 pm

I adapted this from an entry that I wrote in my journal earlier this evening:

I walked across the road home tonight, treading under the looming moon and the sparsely discernible stars. I listened to music that sighed and wept with the wind. I can no longer tell the cool breeze from my own chills, which present so often to entertain me without my invitation

I won’t look at the trees. There isn’t any more poetry in their branches, their leaves, nor their trunks. I can recall a memory from the backseat of a convertible car, gazing in awe at the arch of gnarled tree branches shading the road and the travelers below… but the scene is so distant now that I can’t reenact the emotion that I must have felt at the time. For every height that I’ve reached, there is an infinite amount of time that I spend falling and quivering while I realize the jagged granite beneath the summit. Every slip of my footing and every second in which my grip loosens, I lose a bit of my mind. I can only speculate as to how much more of my soul must be stripped of all of its significance before I can no longer recognize myself.

I can not feel the breeze anymore and the stillness is haunting. When I hear that flippant cliche which defines a person’s life as a series of ups and downs, I can’t help but to be baffled that there lies an audience who carried it to such an apparent popularity.

Life is a wearisome decent. In this impossibly long life, I am left alone to cling to any company or hope that stands within my sight and when I lose that hold on whatever, whomever, or wherever it was, life becomes a tireless rush. All of my reserves must be spent finding a new ledge to grasp so that I can regain the solace that’s been torn from my veins impermissibly. I am starved, taxed, and restless. There will always be more to come. I will lift and then carry it all, no matter the creaking floorboards beneath my feet. I’ll be selfish and I’ll try to be cruel. I’ll count the distance between my loutish friends and my own thoughts which grow louder with each drag of every passing year. And I will stop caring for the breeze.

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Depression

Permanent Linkby Melancholic on Thu Feb 16, 2012 1:00 pm

I've been lying in my bed for so long that the world outside feels as though it's been swamped with smoke. During my short ventures outdoors, there isn't any recognition. I make no connections. There are no lines drawn to make sense of the scattered dots that crowd my vision.
I rise and I sleep... there isn't any reason or meaning between the actions. Music barely feels real, despite it's importance. The world is flat to me, even though I know that it's round, turning, and filled with colors. My corner of the planet lies still and I'm stuck in it.

If someone out here has some rope to throw, I'd gladly take an end of it.

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Random Hospital Entry

Permanent Linkby Melancholic on Fri Feb 10, 2012 7:43 am

From 12/23/11 while I was partially hospitalized in a mental institution:
There's a therapist here who carries a white, plastic brain with him everywhere he goes. I sneak out into the hallway on our breaks to listen to music and I see him often, walking around with the staff or by himself, always carrying the brain in the same manor that a waiter carries a platter of decadent food. I've recently learned that this brain is a "he" and he has two names. He goes by "either Bobby or Brendan."

...Oh, my God. Brain man has left Bobby Brendan on the chair, alone. We (the few still sitting in the group room) are now conspiring against this brain, plotting where we could hide it. The best idea came from my Bi Polar comrade Marie, who believes that we should place Bobby Brenden on the lap of Carolyn, who is currently sleeping in her chair due to a medicated coma.

Brain man is back now, and the plotting has ceased.

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1 out of 52 out of 53 out of 54 out of 55 out of 5

The Audience

Permanent Linkby Melancholic on Mon Feb 06, 2012 10:42 pm

I'm amazed at the volume of traffic that the majority of personal blogs receive on this forum. When I was writing in my journals I had no idea that they would see the light of day and I certainly wouldn't have guessed that hundreds of people would view them with interest or curiosity.
I've been posting them in intervals because of the bulk, but now I'm waiting breathlessly. I'm astounded. I enjoy recalling the quiet question of whether there is applause or bewilderment from my audience. Have I placed myself behind bars in a zoo or is there a connection here between my words and my reader? I love staring in wonder.

My favorite places have always been spots where I could stare at the sky, avoiding as much light pollution as possible. The night sky still holds mystery to me. Even astronomers are amazed by it's brilliance.

I'll post more entries later, or I may keep this writing in the present. Weighing the pros and cons between past and present feel pithy after launching my first post. Staring at a star is literally viewing the past... still, the stars don't shine any less.
Last edited by Melancholic on Tue Feb 07, 2012 1:28 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Almost an Olive Branch

Permanent Linkby Melancholic on Mon Feb 06, 2012 6:20 pm

Something exceedingly strange happens when two like-minded people make eye contact. Sparks shoot into the air and meet in mid-gaze to form the blazing, shifting sentence,
"I know you."
To most, this information is incomprehensible. The action itself is an undeniable, secret bond and only a few of us are in the club. I assume that it's similar to the endorphins released when two attractive people make eye contact. Sadly, I have no means to test this theory because I've never been physically attracted to anyone. Maybe I look past the base, exterior surface and catch a glance at something within. I've been told that this is insane, but I don't believe it and I never will.


A note: I edit my blogs frequently. I'm a perfectionist. I am not backing down from this call to duty (all hail the overly popular first person shooter [yes, women do work at Gamestop and no, I don't have a gender complex]).
Last edited by Melancholic on Mon Feb 06, 2012 10:48 pm, edited 4 times in total.

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