Time -Pink Floyd

Life biased by the cautious eye of a filmmaker. Not that I am a film maker of course, it’s just that sometimes I see myself as a separate entity, I watch myself, my actions, my thoughts panning out. I can see myself in two dimensions, the me that is living, breathing, existing, and the me I imagine I am, the instinctive me that exists only in a world without self control. Problem is, sometimes I feel like I lose control of that latter dimension and the most banal, primate, base instincts fill my mind, and I can literally feel them corrupting me. In a world without God, I think that I can honestly say that I would be amoral, rebel without a cause. This is really truly difficult for me: this holding on to truth, life, and just goodness. I am so scared. Yet, I know instinctively that I shouldn’t be, because that is being hypocritical of the trust I boast about putting in God. Lord please be patient. I try. The world just seems so lonely sometimes. Like this poem I heard by Shane Koyczan today that talked about how loneliness is a strange thing because we all spend so much time at it, that some of us actually excel in it, but yet that none of us will ever be graceful at it. I think that is so apt but I can’t seem to find the words. If you know them please send me the link. Sorry about this strange depressed rambling entry.

I intended to write this nice long entry about friendships and stuff. Bugger, got very de-railed. Anyway, I was thinking about relationships (the regular platonic kind) and friendships and well, depressingly, how to tell if they are going to end or if they will last (I explained my penchant for the melodramatic right?) and well anyway, I came to this conclusion: people are about simple everyday things. There will always be extraordinary circumstances under which you will feel extreme emotions, but these are rarely representative of the regular. Most times, long standing relationships epitomize “nice” – moderate, not passionate, not intense, but sustainable over long periods of time. But life is made up of several shortcuts right? Several intense clips all jammed together like a badly pasted anthology. That’s where our extremes come from. But they are unsustainable, emotions that rarely crossover from clip to clip. Almost like Tamsin versus those Eustacia-esque moments. To think that Hardy’s pessimistic industrial outlook would still be very relevant to our lives.

Sorry for the randomness. I feel a bit like a bad juke box.