MY LOVE FEELS ALL WRONG. DIGIPAK (the epic comeback of the century) TW: DEEZ NUTS in yo face

Can't believe the GOAT of Lolicore is a 30-some fat neckbeard. CRAZY if you ask me... Recently I've been reading Murakami and as a result, it is making me more vulgar. The obscene amount of sex in his books is ridiculous. It is hard to believe that a sane man finds it okay to bring up sex in every other chapter. We're just a small blip in the everchanging tides of the current zeitgeist. I miss my blog posts of insanity and pure depravity. In exchange, I was given writing that made me more comfortable in my MIND, BODY, and SOUL!!!! At the price of my mental well-being and physical came an individual who bathed in sloth-like behavior and delved in his own pit of NXT Marlboro butts. Now my voice amounts to nothing, it has disappeared as fast as it came. Seemingly taking inspiration from the stars that burn so brightly but go just as quickly. Though I may ask myself what the fuck am I doing here. In reality, I'm just a placeholder of the soul for this body of mine that deteriorates ever so rapidly. Day by day my soul and voice break down further until I'm left wondering if I will ever reach the insurmountable mountains of those around me and before me.

Though I'm not discouraged, I'm just driven to insanity little by little as I reflect and reflect some more on the life I've chosen to live. Chosen, blessed with, destined to live, no matter how you look at it... our lives were predetermined at our moment of birth and the only thing we can change is the clothes on our backs and the people we fuck xD :3.... :P Harsh realities fuck me in the ass while I indignantly write in my little journal with pretty little cursive letters that exhibit my vile reality. Darker and darker the mind grows as well as the journal that allows little trickles of my brain to take refuge in his pages. Words, music, and media will never do my mind justice because I just allow myself to live in a cave of insecurities. Similar to the cave allegory, the only reality I chose to live in is the one where I'm weak and powerless to those around me. The shadows my subconscious chooses to show me are ones where I can never escape the neverending trek of obstacle after obstacle and human after human, interaction after interaction, fraudulently we all face our own realities to cope with the pain that we will never escape the depths of this pit that we've erected for ourselves to live day in and day out. Faced with money and power now you're faced with the decision to make a disciplined choice that will benefit your mind that has never known the sweet fruits that this life can give. 

Fervently though, I choose to live the life that I desperately hate day in and day out. The only escape is that of a reality I will never live. How cliche... to be living in a prison of your own making. In reality, even my life is not original, it's just a replication of some other poor soul before me who probably took his own life because he never had the luxuries that I indulge in today... day after day. 

Here's a serious question for those who choose to read: How do you allow others to understand the guilt that comes from talking to someone who has done horrible things to others? Let's say he's your father, but he's the only male figure that understands what you go through. Let's not get too personal as this is just a hypothetical... Just a fleeting thought that I allow myself the space to think about daily as I wish to reflect this feeling in my art. Speaking of which I recently delved back into my favorite director of all time Wong Kar Wai. Starting with Chungking Express I was blessed to rewatch this masterpiece and allow the hypnotic use of its cinematography to wash over me. To allow the painful humanity of each character, to wash over me. In each character, you'll note a flaw that is blissfully given to all of those who exist within us. (LOL WHAT KINDA BULLSHIT AM I WRITING) It's a cyclical beauty that all of us endure when we exist in all walks of life. A brutal love story takes hold of your thoughts as you watch without power. The characters are doomed to live the same story no matter what and even though you've never seen the movie... you know how it ends. You'll watch it again and again because the enchantment it exudes, on the first watch, will leave you clinging on like an addict does to his pipe. To its digital grasp, you would do anything to feel its power again and again. This is the true beauty of cinema. How within 90 minutes, your life has gone from "ignorance is bliss" to "painfully aware". Chungking Express is the feeling of exhaling after your journey through life is over. It's a love letter to love but a Valentine's Day card to loneliness. If only you could understand the hold that this movie has had on me ever since I've watched it. I encourage you all to give your eyes a break from the monotony of reel after reel and meme after meme to allow yourself to accept a breath of air that you've never inhaled before. 

Now I come to a close. BYE BYE! I haven't gone back to reread this so I hope its coherent!