Call me Ishmael
female, 22 |
questioning...everything
Hay River / Canada
member since 27.10.2004
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Random Thoughts:
everyone fancies himself a non-conformist, but, since everyone is a non-conformist, the act of non-conformity becomes conformity, therefore the real non-conformists are the conformists.
If a person changes who they are around others to make themselves more likable, will they eventually turn into that person? Are they not, by acting as someone else, transformed into that alternate personality? Or do they remain the person whom they never reveal to anyone?
Have you ever thought about time? about how every second is instantly turned into the past, how everything you say or do, or dont' say or don't do can never be changed or altered in any way? it can be diguised and hidden but it is always there, or it never will be there. when you think about it, its a lot of pressure for just one second.
If life is predestined, nothing we do can be wrong, so why should we try so hard to live "properly" since anything we do we are ment to do anyways?
I know nothing
Things I love:
Coffee
Tea
Reading
Writing increadibly meaningful, pointless things
Rain
The incredible solitude snow inspires
Running, preferibly in the rain
Juice
Philosophy
Physics
Music
Art
Things I strongly dislike:
decaff,diet or sugar-free anything
compliments
Why do people always think my questions are rhetorical?
life is of our own design. if we beileve something is true it is.
The sky in my world is orange.
What is it about today that lends itself so beautifully to life?
Is it the rain, nourishing the thirsy trees, making the world imposibly green and drowning the rest into background grays? Is it the stillness, the distinct abcence of wind, allowing all to simply be, and move without giving in to a stronger force? Is it the movement, the constant flow and sound of the river, the rain, the waves, yet always gently, never forcing on you it's own noise, but always there, if you let yourself listen. Is it the richness of the soil or the purity of the air? Is it the beautiful complexity of the sky, with its intricate combinations of gray?
How is it that the rain which drives us all inside, into cages, is finally allowing me to escape mine? |
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