I watched this kid on television his name is Bastian and he appeared on this humorists contest called "Roman Coliseum". He is a disabled boy who was in for a shot. At first and before he even started his routine, I thought that it had been a bad idea to bring someone like him to the show taking into account that he was going to have an unfair disadvantage against other contestants. Nonetheless, the very first lesson I was exposed to, which I had been trying to learn for a while though it flat-out fails to sink in, has to do with never judging a book by its cover. Eventually, he presented his jokes and routine and I told myself words that I can't even put down on paper even when I strive to do so. I'm and was moved to tears by what he did. He is everything that is good with the world nowadays, he is the best that a country like this has got, and he is everything one could possibly want to be. He inspires. He lacks so many things, those that common people have, yet he oozes the one feature that really matter in the end and that's humanity, something lost among common citizens. One of the reasons he inspires so deeply is because one doesn't feel pity for him but blatant and utter admiration on account of the fact that he is really good at what he does. He makes people laugh and he does it wonderfully,a tough challenge even for regular healthy confident people. So on a night like this one and having in mind the fierce rat race we face daily, I must certainly thank this kind kid because he gave me back, at least for a day, something I had deemed lost, something, these days is as unlikely as contacting a beloved relative, to swiftly feel back, and that's my beaten, hidden, longed sensitivity.
I keep saying to myself to write something on my journal entry before posting a write but I carry on neglecting doing so. It's well known that in order to understand someone's writing one has to read about what they are going through.
I know this may be rather contradictory due to what I've recently written and posted yet, and I must repeat my former statement, I am not repulsed by it though I can't stand witnessing overdoing it.
All those people out there advertising their lives minute after minute such as actors, politician, singers, sport personalities and the like. They don't seem to stop writing a public journal of what they do second after second like one would care enough to know ... this shows the biggest fault humanity bears "old plain arrogance" which is the one I despise the most.
I'm cognizant that this might seem as if tainted by jealousy but I only know it isn't. I abhor facebook, even though I have one, and I loathe "twitter"
...Created 2011-07-03 23:46:56
Mood: Guess what!?Yesterday, I was watching a bunch of actresses on the premier of a film I saw recently called Scream 4. And I was discombobulated at the frenzy these people generate. The paparazzi where like animals caged roaring to be fed. They were frantically shouting at these girls to make them change their post or smile differently. This ladies looked like puppets being controlled and their smiles looked as though they had been mechanically rehearsed for the camera....Created 2011-06-20 11:34:16
As I've never been keen on titles never have I felt all too attracted to advertise my sentiments and I've often frown upon those who do it on a daily basis. I reckon all that hinges upon my wanting to keep away from the limelight which at times has only proved to be misinterpreted and chastise by some yet I can gaze at the end of the horizon and no intentions on altering my demeanour can be traced.
As a matter of fact, I've always taken pride on being the way I am. However, it can be deceptively harmful for being sensitive can arouse a smattering of despondency, to boot but I won't delve too far into it.......
Presently, I could remark that I've got to write or else. It seems utterly bewildering to be able to scribble something down since I havenít found enough inspiration to neither jot something down on my diary nor on Elite skills. Many times have I ruminated upon the peril that I happen to be entangled in by my striving for optimism and every so often I've felt daunted on that account. I'm quite cognizant that my lack of intensity or words for that matter, can be accounted for my having swayed from whining and sheer pessimism.
Quite lately, I've felt so vividly compelled to bash some people but I have refrained several times only on the ground of the whole matter being worthless and insignificant. Be all as it may, I must admit, and I do feel rather morose at admitting this, that people have cunningly disappointed me. And I'm not alluding to any tacky love stuff, God forbids! At any rate, I reckon that as I have been picky on that account the most sensible course of action would be to strengthen the filter I've been using more circumspectly than before, which would be downright Olympic not to say colossal.
Mood: ------------------Well everything seems different right now. My perception of reality has been blatantly altered over the last few months. I've unveiled and gobble the sweet pollen of life which has nourished and sweeten my sheer existence. Changes are a threat but I've got tools to fight back. All in all, what Iím essaying to explain, rather inarticulately, is that Iím not the boy I once was. I'm certainly more experienced and I've got more resources than I used to. At least thatís the sentiment I've been trying to forge. I surmise that the idea of not caring will prevail. It's rather an intricate a motto and I have the faintest idea how to portray it myself ... and Iím not too fond of doing it either. There's this issue I'll miss and it's got to do with what a squire on a film brought up rather recently he remarked that all our suffering years are the ones that define us as a person and that when they creep away our lives are rendered meaningless and dull. It sounds more like a paradox rather than an epiphany and it also bears this unduly masochistic quality to it that makes it altogether striking. At any rate, I reckon I'll miss the gut-wrenching feeling that would partly account for some of my inspiration when it came to writing.-
Mood: Too much at once...It's rather strange to get older and to get cognizant of certain facts that had been sparkling in from of me but yet had not been able to peek at them. I surmise that experience or life itself shows them to you when appropriate. I feel so many things right now that is hard to put them all into words. I reckon that's downright overwhelming to see after having been rather blind for almost half of a lifetime. Teenagers........ they've no idea ......I guess that having glimpsed at reality as I did yesterday, which felt quite as an epiphany, should be good enough a motive for aching oneís demise because, to be quite honest, nothing is all itís crapped up to be....Created 2007-10-13 13:34:14
Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3 It means a lot to them, as it does to you.