#living

I am not going to be as ignorant as you. I don’t look at my life and say the feelings of my soul are the only feelings of any worth. Each of your souls are worthless and they should just be begging on the side of the curb for somebody to love them. ‘Oh please Sir, love me a little will you, hug me and show me that you care’. That’s you begging for love, ushered away by others walking past who are confused about your feelings.

I’m not confused.

You’ll be confused soon though. As I write this in such a way only the smartest of people and those in the know will be able to unravel it. Or I might write it so it confuses you, but then you can gain your own conclusion of what I’m trying to say. Or I’ll just keep on typing, talking shit, until I get bored.

Who knows a person that only cares about themselves? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? To love ones self so deeply that you would do anything to make your life happy. Are these people aware that they only care about themselves? They wake up in the morning, climb out of their bed, look into the mirror and say ‘Today, I am going to do whatever it takes to make myself happy’. Or do they wake up, randomly exist in life, going about their business, realise that they are happy and say ‘I’m happy, I’m going to carry on doing this because I feel good’. Forgetting of course, how they came to be happy, just knowing they like this predicament.

Can you really be happy, knowing your happiness is making someone else sad? If you say ‘I am happy’. Then I tell you ‘your happiness is making someone else sad’. Are you still happy? If you say ‘I’m sad that this person is sad’. Then you are no longer happy. If you say ‘I am still happy’, that means you feel no sadness, for someone who is sad. What kind of human being does that make you? A happy one I guess. So that’s alright. For you.

Ahh that’s all a confusing riddle of feelings that nobody thinks about. Why should we though? If we are happy, then why should we worry if our happiness is upsetting another person. Why can’t they be happy for us? Selfish.

Should I talk about Facebook & Twitter? Vomit up words onto the computer screen that have been making my belly sick. I should, but I won’t. We know Facebook and Twitter is a murderous tool that has unfortunately gained the power to break hearts and kill dreams. I won’t bore you again with my silly words ruining everyone’s fun. But I did post a question up that got a reply in applause for my thought, but no answer.

How do we feel emotional feelings from the inside? What’s the most painful feeling on earth? I hear, that it’s watching the one you love, loving somebody else. Confused, I’ll give you an example off the top of my head. You could be standing at the bar, in say…Watford. You turn around and the girl or guy you like is playing tonsil tennis with another girl or guy. Pause there. That feeling. ‘Your whistling and she’s kissing him’. What is that? What is that ache from within? Why’s it gone and turned up uninvited, crashing the party and ruining your night.

I’m watching you do it. You the reader. Your face has dropped, your heart has sunk into your belly. You down the shot, but it makes you feel sick. Your on the dance floor, but your not moving, and the awkward fake smile is not at all noticeable. I’m here. I’m thinking about your feelings because I didn’t wake up today and decide I was only going to care about myself. I’ve got your back. Don’t worry, I’m not wondering why you feel like this. I just appreciate that you do.

Advice? Start #living. ‘How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes’- William Shakespeare. **tips hat**. I’m good at giving advice. Yet so so so bad at following my own. I always think I can win. I can do it. I can defy the odds and never walk away. ‘Walk Away James’. That’s the advice I give to myself. ‘Not this time, not now, you don’t even want it’. It’s that itch though that makes me always try one more time just in-case. That should pay off one day.

‘I always pass on good advice. It is the only thing to do with it. It is never of any use to oneself.’ - Oscar Wilde

I can’t mention, living. Without mentioning dying. Who’s afraid of death?
I’m more fearful of not living, then dying. The act of death doesn’t scare me. It’s the non participation of living that annoys me. I get annoyed that I didn’t live before I was born, so the thought of not living after I die frustrates my soul hugely. The invention of heaven plays with my feelings aswell. Surely only created to make us feel better knowing we may see our loved one’s again when we die. We won’t. Love them now.

Or maybe created to keep the peace on earth. Promise the people an eternal life after death, and some how their want for it, allows all common sense to fly out of the window. Too many religions, too many people thinking they’re 100% right. Living a life full of boundaries that need not be there. Not for me.

Why do people kill themselves? To feel so much hurt and sadness inside, that it wipes out the memory of when your spine tingled with happiness. Does anyone ever get in the bath, and when the heat touches you, you feel some kind of perspective on life? A feeling, that there is time to turn it around and achieve and to be happy. Who’s ever done it, and seen no future?

I’m going. I’m still here though, somewhere, around. You have the chance to tell me how you feel. Don’t leave it on a lie. Don’t leave it on nothing. Leave it with some truth that comes out of your stubborn heart. I am not me, as usual. Imagine, loving somebody. Whatever kind of love that is. But not having the opportunity to tell them, because you were frightened. Or the aching want to do something you’ve always wanted to do, but fear holds you back everytime. Is that really living? I think fear of living has held me back too long. You’ll see me again. Maybe not here. But the real me. Sometime. Make sure you have a camera and a smile. x x x