....And What A Splendid Thing This Is

I here by declare this livejournal to be my favorite. I'm glad I finally remembered the password.

How've I been? I've been escaping the dark place I had created and accepting the bittersweet world that we live in. No more of that purity, celibacy stuff I talked of a couple of years ago. Moderation, critical thinking, and necessary bluntness have become virtues. I can't be like God. But I can be like the Earth Mother, creating sunny days and windy storms, attempt to maintain balance despite the schizophrenic society that I live in. We have WASP tradition and pop culture, both of which look terribly unappealing. Then we have the rebels, the ones that critically think and write and would have been burned at the stake or stoned to death hundreds of years ago. Despite negative response of the mainstream, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

And I've actually started reading my textbooks for my classes. Incidentally, I could end this semester with straight A's. Surreality at its best.

My spirituial beliefs are changing again. Quite a few of these beliefs were ones that I had before I took the Western Humanities class, such as the relativitiy of right and wrong. Something that I had always wondered in childhood was, if good needs evil to exist, and vice versa, then what is the point of trying to defeat one or the other? Why this fruitless effort, why the continuation of this vicious cycle? Reading of the Tao, as well as the Something Else (the darkness, the "outer space" that Tao came from), and wu wei (non-action, the avoidance of acting in an unnatural manner) is helping me get a perspective on morality and sin. Not long after my Western Humanities epiphany, being okay with my virginity and lacking any sexual desire for months, turned into resistance of all "impure thoughts". I was beginning to despise human beings, and judging them harshly if dressed in the Mtv fashions of today. I was becoming narrow-minded and uptight, becoming more interested in the rituals of purity as opposed to being it. I was acting unnatural. As of now, I am attempting to reveal my essential nature to myself. The nature of things has always made sense to me, but because I let myself get distracted by peers during middle school and high school, I stopped pursuing my interests.

It's good to be back.

Voluntarily preventing oneself from the participation of planting the human seed of the next generation either proves ignorance, misunderstanding, or indifference for one's own existence.

In other news, I've been moderately content. College concerns are the reason for the adverb. My supervisor also happens to be a twit, but that doesn't bother me as much. He'll have his day.

Learning some more Nick Drake songs. What an odd fellow. A caucasian living in jolly ol' England during the 60s, went to prep school, excelled in sports, studies, and music, had people who adored him and had faith in him, and overdosed on anti-depressant pills when he was 26 because none of his three albums made it to mainstream status. It's a sad story, really, but being of African-American descent and seeing as how many white people today still don't consider me and my family and other black families as being human beings or capable of doing anything great and either ignore us and insult us every chance they get...I've been down, and I've been depressed and paranoid and insignificant and unworthy...but I've still learned how I can be happy. Yes, yes, Mr. Drake was a tortured soul, but for someone who was never told that he wasn't human or alienated because of his ancestry, I've realized that I'm more different from him then I imagined.

Fuck spooning. It's as irrelevant as Eor now, and sometimes things are worth losing, finding, and not having. Ending things in which they began can be a gift in the sense that you have not let yourself down. Nobody has called you names anymore, and the life of a true hermit can began. You may not neccessarily move to a remote island or deep in the forest and live off of the land, but you know now how to seperate yourself from others. You can protect your sacred from the vicious jaws of Greed, Lust, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Pride, and Gluttony. They are the bastard children of Lucifer; they are very attractive, and they will destroy you. Sloth is a bit somber and the most subtle of the bunch...or so he seems.

On another note, Tori Amos appears to share the same religious/spiritual/philosophical beliefs that I've been consciously holding for about 6 months. Very cute.

Your name: Amythyst
Your location: Johnson City, Tennessee
Your age:19
Favorite Deadboy song: The entire If This Is Hell, Then I'm Lucky album. I also like "Fly on the Eye of the Lamb", but I'm not sure if that is Deadboy or Dax solo.
Favorite Dax project: Deadboy and Agents of Oblivion
How did you first hear of Deadboy and the Elephantmen?: A pair of brothers that I went to school with always talked about Dax. He's talent didn't hit me until this year.
Have you ever seen them live?: No. I was invited to go to one in Nashville, but I had a class early the next morning.
Favorite Deadboy lyrics: "I've got this sharp piece of science and I can't see the soft underbelly of the sky above me."

The power of the Elements has been revealed to me in the form of a motion picture. Earth, Fire, Water, Air, they show no mercy, yet they can inspire such beauty from people. If I have the priviledge to look outside another morning, I will never look at it the same way again.

My purity is close to being restored. It's nice to be away from people who have no ambition. I can't do that anymore. I couldn't create and share art while living with two whales who smoke like chimneys and sleep until three in the afternoon. I never want to see my hometown again, although it is inevitable that I will. I can't think clearly around constant company. It's very nerve racking, and distracting, and despicable. Shit is everywhere. Now that I'm somewhere else, I can pursue the art of flamenco without the distraction of sex driven queers.

Burning eyes, smoke of sandalwood
Breath of wine, night of humidity
My beginning is waving to me
The doors are opening, the life is young
And the end is far away

The end of an era has been aroused by the spirits. The spirits say that my home town is far behind me, and the place that I now reside is the best for me. Roan Mtn, as well as Buffalo Mtn, have inspired me to write songs one day. And I am no longer bored. And I think I can find my purity again.

I'm thinking of destroying my Myspace accounts. I feel a deep withdrawal period coming on. I'm tired of checking messages, replying to messages, checking blogs, reading other people's problems, boo fucking hoo. It's time to close up shop and focus on myself again.

On a side note, I dreamt that Madonna was lighting my clove. She had a cowboy hat on and a Western shirt. Nice girl.

The sun is coming out from behind the clouds, I may go for a walk.

After somewhat vigorous study, the conclusion I have come to is this: smoke, no matter the source, is not meant to be inhaled.

I have many days of freedom ahead of me. I look forward to this long summer break that is to ensue.

I'm learning who true friends are. And I think for the first time in my life, I have actually found one.

Soon, I will be living in the house that my father was born in. It will be many miles away from here. No one will know me. I know I'll spend many a day in the mountains surrounding the town. Tennessee, how I love thee.

On a more relevant note, I find marijuana smoking to be quite an uneccessary venture.

It's nice to know that there is at least one person within the small group of people that I know of that has a genuine fondness of my existence. It will be interesting to see how long this will last. From now on, if I ever feel as if I am being tolerated, or if I sense that a person feels obligated to spend time with me, I am out. I shall not make way for bullshit.

Good day.

I want to record shitloads of Dax covers. I wish to sing, to write, to read, to absorb, to love, to have passion. I feel all of these things at once, giving way to a visceral reaction that is both uncomfortable and good. I have this urge to put out a CD with sketchy sound quality and wear a crown on my head. My very being is aching with energy. If I don't do something, I'm gonna explode. I'm gonna call people, make plans for this weekend to record until my throat is raw, my fingers bleed, and my eye muscles hurt from trying to stay open.

Good day.

What I notice the most about Chattanooga is that it has earned the coined term "Scenic City." But this is the South, this is the city of Isolation, with Ignorance as its spawn. If 85% of the people were gone, this place would be a haven. On my various outings to parks (preferably deterred from the paved walking path and into the wooded areas), I often fantasize of raising a family in a cabin in the woods. All of this currency and banks and business jargon gives me a headache. Why do things have to be so difficult? I believe in a simple life and the development of a wise mind. With an open mind remaining, one can learn to decipher the meaning of life, or at least one's own interpretation. How can this be done with all of this distraction?

Also, I'm considering developing my own philosophy with the consideration of creating an organized religion. I still have much to think about. I'll continue to take notes. Good day.

His name is Voldo.

A man of prestige.

A man of justice.

A man of dignity.

Actually, he's just blind, mute, insane, and has a quadruple jointed skeletal structure. But he is one bad ass motherfucker, and my most recent muse on Soul Calibur III. I've taken to him swiftly, and I now find him precious as opposed to disturbing.

After looking at pictures from the 1995 issue of Playgirl, I decided that Pete Steele was such a beautiful specimen that I would check out Type-O Negative's music, to avoid my repressed superficial tendencies. Well, I've downloaded a few songs, and I must say, this stuff is right up my alley. The music sounds like it is kin to HIM's, Tristania's, and Danzig's music. His voice is quite low, and despairingly beautiful. This is goth rock in every since of the word.

This all I really have to say at the moment. I just felt that this new musical find of mine was worth mentioning. "My Girlfriend's Girlfriend", "I Don't Wanna Be Me", and "Love You to Death" are excellent. Good day.

- *Thyst*

I drove home, and for the first time in four years, I passed fields of white. There was a brief period in time in which I despised Winter, and I despised snow. I think these negative thoughts formed as a result of Vanity; being clad in a huge puffy coat wasn't "sexy" enough, I wanted people to look at me and have the impression that I was "with it." What nonsense. Hating the cold, hating Winter because I had my head shoved in orifices that need not be seen from the inside. Tonight, when I saw the snowflakes fall from the sky, and when I stood out in my driveway to look up at the moon while snow clung to the branches, I came to the conclusion that I will never criticize the weather ever again. Mother Nature knows what's best. She is Beauty. I shall cease talking back.

On a slightly different subject, my father and I saw several stars for the first time in several years. We could almost make out the Big Dipper. It seems as if somewhere in the distance, the artificial sky lights dimmed. There may still be hope for humankind yet.

The clouds veiled the sky, the streets below slick with rain. The sun is proclaiming its magnificent existence through the window in which I sit in front of. On this morning, I can feel Hope surge through me again. Some could say that adjectives such as "magnificent" and "beautiful" are subjective ways of describing Nature. Someone could wake up to a bad day and say how despicable the "world" is. But this "world" that the person speaks of, is he referring to the Earth itself, or to the people and situations that he finds here? Looking outside and seeing the life that is here, life could be nothing but beautiful. The creation of life is good, because it continues the cycle needed to survive. Couldn't Life equal Good, and Good equal Beautiful? Or is that just subjective as well? I'll have to think about this.

I feel myself rambling, but the wet concrete is reflecting the light of the sun. I shall go for coffee

In the past couple of weeks, I've become enthralled with the magnificent art that is Bible Black, a series that has been considered to be the greatest hentai in existence.. My interest in hentai in general has grown tremendously. The concept of animated characters being attractive was enough when watching anime, but then add the pornographic element...it's unbelievable.

I used to think it was rather peculiar when my fellow anime freak comrades would say things like, "Oh my God, Sephiroth is so sexy! I'd tap that ass!" I would think to myself, "What the fuck is wrong with these people? They are fucking cartoons! Lines on paper! A figment of the imagination!." But really, couldn't one declare that the generously curvy anime female still contains the essence of a real human woman, therefore her physical attractiveness is justified and incessant drooling by the human witnessing the character can occur with dignity? What are we, but creations made by a Crafty Hand? I was at a friend's house earlier playing Soul Caliber 3, and to my astonishment, she presented the idea that the characters and worlds in the game could be living in their own reality. Just like we live in ours. Just like the supreme beings live in theirs. Of course, you could say this way of thinking was conjured up so we could not feel so silly about drooling over Siegfried, the man with extremely long, wide sword (it's the penis envy talking again). Even so, it is still something to ponder.

Nevertheless, my interest in anime/hentai has yet to prove to be a phase for me. Until that day of reckoning, I'll enjoy every moment that I can get.

Today, I saw the boy that I had been strongly attracted to for the past three years for the first time in three months. My mental state has changed significantly. I thought of him less often. When I saw him today, I saw the embodiment of Sorrow. He wasn't like he used to be. The qualities that I now look for in a male human, he doesn't have them. Long hair isn't enough anymore. Being slender with boyish good looks isn't enough anymore. Let us not forget to mention that probability of him ever liking me in the first place was none and none. The time we did spend together, it was because I asked him incessantly. I've come to the conclusion that he was merely humoring me. I think what I needed was to stop chasing him, because in these past months I've taken up a couple of new interests, and there are new things that I want out of life. He would never fit into that equation. Of course, I say that with the concept that he actually was willing to be a part of it.

I've found a bit a closure by typing this. We had very little in common to begin with. I feel myself coming to grips with reality, and wanting to be with someone who is barely near maturity and has habits that I strongly disapprove of is futile. In essence, this is the final chapter of Chasing Him.