Without a sense of depression, these are harder to write.

Who needs a journal to take your happiness away?

I'm sick again from smoking a hookah. Fucking bronchitis.

AUO

Dx: Anxiety from Unknown Origin

Sx: Irritability, lack of concentration, malaise, depression

Tx: Stop. stop what your doing and stop looking for something to make it go away. I would always feel the anxiety and just look for several other things to do trying to cure it. I realized to cure it, it's all about acceptance. Just stop what your doing. Just stop and absorb it. Just turn off everything your looking at, sit down, and play some relaxing music or just close your eyes and chill out. For those few moments just  -  stop. Realize that you control what goes on in your life.

After treatment, look at what makes you anxious, and see what you can do about it.

Where to begin?

Africa's road to end at a douche-bag's approval. I'm fine with it. My callus can grow deeper. A bullet couldn't penetrate my skin. She whipped out some book by Eckhart Tolle, some fuck who writes to confuse and pose intelligence to the public. His education is near impossible to back track unless i feel like giving a long distance call to the university of london. He graduated from college, but who's to say well, and with what degree? His book is about how to live life, yet he throws in spectacularly specific details of the cold war and history of communism like he was a historian.. I choose to deny all influenced information following that section.

He blatantly speaks outright saying why people love things. It's fucking idiotic and poorly thought out. He states that mankind has a natural love for crystals, gems, and flowers. What the fuck? and he says it's due to something like they're basic nature. (It's been a while since I read it, but I'm probably going back to barnes and noble or the library or something just to get riled up again.) Anyway, some people like crystals and gems because it's rare to see something so well constructed on a molecular level, some like flowers because out of all the plants in the world it's greatly different than others. They smell nice, and show a display of colors. The mind loves variety in a crowd of clones.

Anyway. Africa loves to believe what she wants to and is arrogant enough to fight outright against it. Disappointing to find that out. She mentioned douche-bag on her phone that she was texting, i said oh you guys are together again? and she said yeah, and i asked how it was going, she said great, I said really? she said yeah i found out my problem was i cared to much. so i just stopped caring. so now i don't care when he doesn't call me or text me. I gave a really confused and disapproved look, smiled and said whatever works.

I feel like there isn't one good reason why someone should stop caring about the other unless it really affects their life in a detrimental way. I mean of course i don't know to what extent Africa was harassing douchebag, but from what she told me it takes days for him to respond to her, he promises to speak to her and doesn't, says he'll do things but doesn't. Feels like she's molding herself for his wishes despite her well-being.

90% sure Milk makes me depressed

For the past 2 months or so I've eaten cereal everyday and drank milk at least 1-2 times a day. I couldn't figure out why i felt so much like shit, but it seriously clouded my thinking.

I experimented. 4 days i didn't drink it or touch anything dairy for that matter. I felt like a fucking king. Today I accidentally ate oatmeal that my mom laced with milk. Complete fucking shit day until later in the night. Probably didn't help that i forgot milkshakes have milk in them.

I don't want to give up dairy, but if it must be done it must.

Africa is still a mystery. I've grown strong. I plan on asking her tomorrow if she's still struggling with the same shit. I'll probably open it up with talking about relationships. Then I'll ask her what her situation is.

side notes: she made me brownies this morning, told me to text her, i caught her with her fucking stares yet again.

If all goes well tomorrow, it wont be the last day I'll see her until after spring break. I'll tell her we should do something.

-emotions: I want to give it a swing, but I know what pain that could follow if it doesn't all fall through. I will speak half-willed, but fate knows I want to throw my heart under the guillotine to show her the life that could be. But something new is stopping me from doing so. I think my heart has the ability to hold memory. I want to ask her plainly: So whats your situation? are you still having the same problems with douchebag? hm.

(want to start something?)
If yes, i know i'll speak all the right words.

If no, i'll use her as a friend who gives much needed advice:
how does a relationship even start?
how do you hangout with people?
how do you know when to leave?
how do you know what to do with friends or a girlfriend?
how often should you see each other?
is it weird to see each other everyday?
is it worth hanging out with someone if you don't have any goals or plans?

A well deserved end.

"I FIND PLEASURE IN SENSE. I felt so good on the way home because (i somehow accepted) i made sense of feeling like shit. Because i know show likes me, and she knows i like her and she says it's not enough."
-2 posts ago

it all makes sense somewhere there.
I accept that:
I desperately would say i'm in love with her
I give her my all, and I know my all is deserving for love - she speaks this truth herself.
And if, my all, my worth perfectly equating for an outcome of love is not met, than I will not spend my life awaiting.

I will not sing endlessly to the deaf who hold no worth for my song.

FOCUS

Spit the equations out.
Don't crunch the thing that makes you breathe
Clear the thought
Break no tangent for a path
Let what must be done be done

Feel what is meant to be felt
Take to account all that should
Become familiar with being blind
Knowing the unexpected will be unexpected
Remain unchanged at misdirection and doubt
Embrace that you don't walk to find rest.

Don't question existence,
Let existence exist and that day it may you.

Simplistic

I feel like for the past few weeks or so, I've been trying to figure out why I feel the way I do. It was like the reasons I desperately look for are like the little squares and sparkles on the opposite end in a collideoscope. One way or another I, somehow, completely distort my perception of anything.

It was like everything I was trying to figure out was just. Mush. I couldn't think clearly because I constantly devoted a portion of my brain to create this stupid cognitive collideoscope. I have some moments of clarity but it is rare. I find it showing it's face every other day just to say hello.

I was thinking of a bunch of things to write in my car. They brought me happiness. I'll try back tracking from the hospital.. Let me right my end result before i forget it. "Clarity, no need for rational, no need for logic, no need for an over praised moral statement." "Just raw emotion." "Reminded you of how you used to be." "To be so utterly happy and just spread the joy."

So there I was. Sitting on the tile in our dimly lit corner of the maternity floor. Africa was sitting across from me; I still scrape the bottoms of her feet for attention. It felt like my mind had finally lost it. My heart and mind argued the entire night. My body started show signs that it was fed up. The entire night I felt like it was an incredible effort to put up a smile. I felt like shit, and I didn't want to accept it. She left without looking twice, I looked several. I sat there in the parking lot for a good five minutes. Fully embracing that frown that felt like hooks overpoweringly guided by 3 ton weights. I don't know what I thought. I don't think I did. I just looked into my heart and took all it had to give.

Resolution to Africa
"The whole thing that's so frustrating about it, is knowing that we work. And I know in my heart that we would. We would work like fucking clock work. She loves, I love, we love. I easily make her happy and I know she appreciates it. All I think about every moment we spend with each other is how can I make her laugh next. How can I make her life better. There is no consideration of myself. Only her. But, in such a great distaste, she spites all that we could have. I mistake her disappointment for pain, tenfold, when I walk away from the masterpiece I paint for her daily. She doesn't want anything to do with me but wants me to like her, absurd to say the least. "

I FIND PLEASURE IN SENSE. I felt so good on the way home because (i somehow accepted) i made sense of feeling like shit. Because i know show likes me, and she knows i like her and she says it's not enough.

"Synchronize the heart and mind."

"To act different than mind is a scratch, to act different than heart is fatal."

"Keep balance in action, and think of the actions of attraction and why they fit."
+I grow tired of Africa, she grows interest.


Follow your heart, but you need to realize what the heart and mind do. What they are able to do.

"Don't give love and appreciation unless it is deserved. Don't take the time of day to text Africa and make her happy when all she does is meekly return just a fraction of what is given. Speak and make actions that will surely return a solid happiness or preferred answer."

"Show proper answers to the equation. Show distaste and loss of love. Show her what you feel, show her the outcome of her action. Overcome altering instinct and let your feelings be unguided, unchanged, and pure. Your inhibitions further exacerbate clarity. If she comes to you, she likes you. Tell her, Well if you like me why don't you show it?"

I'm happy because I'm finally reaching neutrality; harmony.

It is because I'm becoming consistently able to recognize that I'm finally coming to the end of her road.