what drives curiosity? where does it spring from?
sometimes thoughts 18
life is beautiful. no salt, but a shame: beauty of itself is not a character trait. men and women who use their looks as a characteristic trait are flawed. bikini clad narcissistic traveling public figures on instagram, anyone? you're all the same image of one another, and boring anyway. no, i don't want any of your fit tea. take this brutal assertion as an example from reddit (r/roastme).
Your implants and cry for attention on here only highlight what you and everyone else already suspect... you are insecure.
Likely your insecurity stems from always questioning if you really ever earned anything by merit. Most people probably hand you things because they like looking at you. But that's made you vapid, shallow, and unable to perform in any way that adds true value in the world.
Your relationships are superficial. Your romance life always has the shadow of doubt. Does he love you... or how you look? If you were disfigured, would anyone give you a second glance based on personality?
That nagging feeling will keep you looking for validation. It keeps you in the gym. It makes you post photos online looking for praise or positive attention. It keeps you going back for a nip here and tuck there. Before long you'll look like Donatella Versace with the personality of one of her handbags.
You'll shift from being the center of attention to being part of a gaggle of women who make rude comments about younger girls because you feel jealous and rude comments about men who no longer pay attention to you.
You'd be better served working on being a better person than hunting for attention on Reddit, but you'll likely die young and your grave will be about as shallow as your personality.
Well this blew up.
First off, thanks for the gold.
I do want to ask for the folks being vitriolic in the comments, please give this girl a break. She deleted her account. She was probably just marketing herself and didn't know what she was doing. Other posts outside of a roast someone asks to participate in are a violation of the /r/roastme rules and are generally just not cool.
To those who think I went too far, or was mean and out of line with the nature of the sub... sorry. My sense of humor is dry and I enjoy saying unexpected things. That combination came off as more mean spirited than I generally am.
A few of you have been doxxing me or the girl who posted this. That is a clear violation of Reddit's TOS and is creepy and possibly illegal depending on how far you're taking it. Don't harass that girl on other accounts if you find her. Just leave it at what it was, a roast.
sometimes thoughts 14
drunk. seeking affect from arrogance.
hard not to be radicalized given the times with it's fed shit. 13, an irrationally feared #, a construct; shoenberg, hotels, elevators, the devil, 23, what have you - strange creatures we are. for a thought, to blast the ego out of the water: the solar system on a football field scale. at the .7, 2, 3, 4, 6-10, 16, 40, 79 yard lines - inner planets, asteroid belt, outer planets.., dime-sized sun (goal line), inner planets sized single grains of sand, jupiter-sized width of a quarter, of which can contain over 1300 earths, respectively...bear self-importance irrelevant. your blind, failing, rat race money grabbin, arrogant asses. any cosmic solar event wipes human history from the naked eye. i don't care what you think you are, shut the fuck up.
let's arm each other because we shoot each other because it will make us safer. let's pray for each other because it will make us aware because we kill each other.
microscopic grains of sand on a grain of sand. in a solar system.
shut the fuck up. gain some cosmic perspective.
we are here with each other. forever. now. each other.
now is as good a day as ever.
rekindled, fresh from earth.
seeking that fold, goosebumps with flight.
only that inspiration, so delicate - strong.
disparate - reckless energies summoned,
forth through, tumultuous, savage.
none can hinder, light beckoned -
proactive dedication, my resolute song.
sometimes thoughts 11
if love is a losing game,
why a numb void?
my souls cataclysm
has me reaching
for what's not there.
seemingly for now
my emptied juices
fog my brain chemistry
tired, sleepless, frustrated
enough! on gated mind
if original, will out.
take to the oars
and my bubble will burst.
dissatisfaction to my minds
release the gates
i call to you
portent desire ensue!
so many rolling thoughts
to find one day
when 10 years have got
when all could be worse
and i desire mastery
when creative rivers flow
my white room wall
civilian prison and the
rest of the go-getters.
make my illusion, not.
break these crystal walls
earth and water
mysterious gifts to gods.
breathe forth the wind
from my tar smattered lungs.
if i do not kill my
addiction from it; and it's
bittersweet and lonely
for after all loves
portent potion brings
me illusory solitude.
best yet, my taste
bore my circumstance
and grateful patronage.
capturing sonic taste pockets
and earthen vocabulary.
what do i know
of cosmic calendar vocab.
my existence is all, with
and hopeful enigmatic
in my own perception.
sometimes thoughts 8
the modern day device of your bondage in the free world. a world about selective profligation amongst our own species. a world about being forced to work so you can get money in order to live on a planet you didn't ask to be on. a world where water is essential but sold at the store. a world where you don't decide to be sick but can't afford to be treated. a world where in the words of george carlin we want to 'save the fucking planet,' but quite literally can't 'take care of each other.' we are the greatest self-deceivers, reluctant to acknowledge ourselves as a single unit floating around the sun. even a life in prison will get you a free meal the rest of your days. where are our heads at? even the ceo office mimics a cell in design. time spent. our pro-rated, quota making, budget planning, graph projecting, power point species. why must we love money and not time? 1 million seconds is 4 days, 1 billion is 31 years. e modulo vitro. fatal mindset.
sometimes thoughts 5
a quick run through these digital streets,
show the man boy as before me.
no music to show in the mind's sway,
a profound nostalgia as time slips away.
a great friend turned 89 - friend,
what will my thoughts be then?
we keep traversing time. strive.
more long dead than alive.
the shadow thought, worries of caring,
for ailing elders, bearing.
no thought towards legacy, fruition,
just a basic intuition -
but to keep moving ____
this is growing up, continuing, regardless,
as if my thoughts bear this a relevant guess.
day in, day out, giving -
this is living.
we learn 'til we die, no sorrow,
could be tomorrow.
sometimes thoughts 4
musicians, friends - a sounding board if you like:
what in the nature of music, youth/experienced+, describes a continuously particular or primary draw towards it? for some have called it a 'calling', a native language, vocation, joy, hobby, a noble art...enrapturing the mind and senses daily, without fail. while approaching newer attitudes or techniques, it has for me been artists, mentors, peers - eg. to 'play your own time', as i humbly discovered sat night on a segue in a 17 piece - no small mistake, 20~30bpms; and as these experiences unite us, with a rap verse at mach 250+ words/min, afterwards remarked, 'should be called r'usher,' exploiting my own imperfections, much to the vocalists laughter on a standard top 40. point is the mistake exposed humanity/camaraderie, made friends of us, and should constructive dialogue spring among professional faux pas - this question/information/experience/what-have-you among even the most seasoned is unifying. as most are sometimes reluctant to acknowledge our faults or interconnectedness, and had our relatable experience playing together left any sourness, there's no more experience to be taken from, no offense given or taken - i'd play together again, and though i make mistakes, my musicality as such is still above average. i just want to play the music after all.
seeking causal roots. carmen mcrae's anger at the pianist fumbling 3 songs into a set later discovering the new music in the piano bench, once happened to one of the finest pianists i've met.
for example, having met and admiring, imo, one of the remarkable drummers alive - stated each drum stroke are as army reinforcements to a castle, alongwith one of the most graceful drumming voices. for me, ferociously creative talent is most extraordinary, work not for works' sake, a pursued vision; in turn, as a musician, listening/ears are my greatest asset, inspiring visceral musical depth.
any beneficial commentary the public would like to add on a personal nature welcome.
sometimes thoughts 1