Thinking Aloud

What is it about the human psychological chronicle that makes us so attuned to our incessant need to doubt, second guess, and back stab our own notions of reality or for the lack of better words our ideal? Its been bothering me as of late, the very reasons why people change, and I struggle nonetheless with my own demons as to why I, myself am changing. I was content, in my numbingly ambient happiness. So why the fuck couldnt I just continue to placate Fate, God, the Great Spirit, whatever the heck lies beyond that Ultimate Divine, and stay subdued. I was happy wasnt I? Or was I content with being unfulfilled. Id like to believe that I wasnt, and that I was meant to serve for a higher purpose in society other than my automatic consumption of selfish post Neanderthal needs. Dont get me wrong, I refute any and all allegations that I am subjected to religion. I do not mean a higher purpose as in a servant, but in Realitys terms; in our own, psychically tangible universe, I was meant for something more. But, now I find myself floating between that relentless haze of alcohol consumption where I usually end up saying oh fuck, what the hell did I do last night?! and my undisputed controversy between my ethics and indulgences. Could it be that my ethical reasoning is the thing that is ever changing? Maybe its just the fact that I want to know where Im going, see into the future, and know what the fuck am I supposed to do. Cause all I want to do and say to the universe is fuck this shit.

Thinking Aloud

What is it about the human psychological chronicle that makes us so attuned to our incessant need to doubt, second guess, and back stab our own notions of reality or for the lack of better words our ideal? Its been bothering me as of late, the very reasons why people change, and I struggle nonetheless with my own demons as to why I, myself am changing. I was content, in my numbingly ambient happiness. So why the fuck couldnt I just continue to placate Fate, God, the Great Spirit, whatever the heck lies beyond that Ultimate Divine, and stay subdued. I was happy wasnt I? Or was I content with being unfulfilled. Id like to believe that I wasnt, and that I was meant to serve for a higher purpose in society other than my automatic consumption of selfish post Neanderthal needs. Dont get me wrong, I refute any and all allegations that I am subjected to religion. I do not mean a higher purpose as in a servant, but in Realitys terms; in our own, psychically tangible universe, I was meant for something more. But, now I find myself floating between that relentless haze of alcohol consumption where I usually end up saying oh fuck, what the hell did I do last night?! and my undisputed controversy between my ethics and indulgences. Could it be that my ethical reasoning is the thing that is ever changing? Maybe its just the fact that I want to know where Im going, see into the future, and know what the fuck am I supposed to do. Cause all I want to do and say to the universe is fuck this shit.

Vodka

i miss being evil. and being a nasty bitch to complete strangers just because it's tuesday and i don't like their hair. and the best part them never knowing. i miss pretending i'm from the U.K. and saying fuck just for the sake of the english accent. oh i how i miss it. i miss being groped by my quai-lesbian lovers. i miss pigging out on the notorious turtle cookies, who have all crawled their way to my thunder thighs and booty. i miss coding every thing that walks into the usu with two legs and a penis. muhahaha. i'm going to hell. but of course i miss table. i am out of school now and bored. and need table comfort. ok maybe southern comfort will do. be we all know what happens when jenny looses her inhibition...er consciousness...bad things happen. and i end up saying what the fuck did i do last night as i wake up to a passed out shivering black man on my couch, sticky spots of who the hell knows what on random areas of my tile, and a house full of empty bottles of alcohol that i paid for but did not even get to consume. damn. my life could be a parody. or a manual of what not to do when your parents leave and your left with a window to beautiful freedom, where you roll in the feilds of alcohol consumption. i think i should publish my memoirs.find more at my new bloggy