Reading kylebellamy's journal

Nov 08, 2005 14:52 # 40293

kylebellamy *** tells about...

Distressed (a pondering)

There comes a point in your life where you have to ask yourself a very simple question, whose import can affect what you do next. Am I worth anything anymore?

Am I?

And the inevitable conclusion that I have come to is no. I am not worth anything.

Of course that begs the question 'why?' and that should be answered. It's not fair to myself nor to you not to answer it or at least to try to enumerate the things that make me feel so. Evidence must be weighed and testimony must be heard and the verdict must be ratified beyond any shadow of a doubt.

To begin with, we must look at the definition of who I am as seen by the people deemed to be most important in my life. And they are, do not doubt that. I know that this will raise the inevitable response that it is what I mean to myself that is the important thing. My belief in myself, as it were, should be the deciding factor in my conviction as to weather or not I am of worth.

But let us not lie to ourselves in this time of honesty and discovery. Let us not give in to the glossing of the truth with false hope or vain shows of strength. We are defined by those around us and that is the truth. We are seen and we are judged and from that judgment we learn who we are and what we are and it is that feedback which serves to build in us the foundations and trappings of our mental image.

We are, in fact, a product of our environment. Do not misunderstand me though or put words into my argument that I have yet write. We each have within us a template of sorts, defined by our genetics that dictates the formation of habits, both emotional and physical, that will emerge as we develop in our lives and circumstances. This template does affect our development in the form of personality and will show itself early on in our lives. But even the strongest heart can be broken down until it is little more than a shadow of what it could have been. Even the strongest heart can be trained to be a servant of another, strong for their sake like a soldier or a slave.

You cannot tell me that in your days of looking out across the world you have not seen this, this formation of person by the tides and winds of his life. A child stands in his first years of life, pushing boundaries as hard as he can and through careful and deliberate crushing of spirit, he is turned from a creature full of wonder to an automated, programmable man.

Where does this lead? I don't want to sit here and preach to you about the morals of society or the modern training of our children. But what is it in us that can cause in some the need to destroy those around us and in others the need to bow down and accept it? Are so close in mentality to those herd animals that we raise and feed upon that we are drawn inevitably towards our fate, following the wafting hindquarters of those in front, never questioning the path, never realizing that there is a better view?

I know that I can find my own path. I know that I can feed my own dreams and make the sprout like weeds across the landscape. I know that I am the architect of my future. I know that I am the architect of my failure. The knowing does nothing to neither stop my plodding pace nor change my direction. The knowing only shames me, never motivates.

So I breath deeper the stench of the crowded path, trying to pretend that my little space in it is not so vile, not so filled with the vapors of defeat and irony. Pretend that the crushed wildflowers underfoot are still giving off a touch of their fragrances through the mud and the waste left behind. Pretend that the sun above my head is not scorching the last of my hope out like blisters popping in my soul.

This then is the first point of my argument against myself: I KNOW I am the reason I am nothing and yet I still do nothing to change it. Do not fool yourself into thinking that there is no choice, in saying that you "cannot" choose the better path. To say you cannot is to imply that there is some outside force that is directly hindering your doing it. You may choose not to do something to better yourself, choose not to save money for retirement, choose not to say something nice to the person you meet at the bus stop. But do not lie and say you cannot. You make the choice not to quit smoking. I choose to bury my head in the sand and deny my choices.

That is one of the most compelling points to be made in this dissertation of dismal writing. I can choose otherwise and I do not. Let us not belabor the point but instead move on to the next.

When you or I decide to remain on the path in the midst of social conformity, we are not the equal of all those around us. Just because the path contains us all does not mean that the one lumbering next to you is there for the same reasons that you are. They are not. In fact, the distinct possibility exists that you have positioned yourself next to that person so as to reinforce the very things you choose in your life.

What are you afraid of? What makes your soul feel that sinking, spiny crawl towards the space behind your breastbone? Is it loneliness? Being by yourself and having to face your nature? Is it a need to be controlled, abused like a parent may have done to you as a child? What drives the wheels of your subconscious, what ugly engine keeps you going in the morning? Do you have a lover whose words caress you like the dulled blades of a shaving razor, peeling away tiny layer after tiny layer, not enough to kill but enough to deaden the fire in your heart?

You choose those around you because they build the illusions you have and give you the where with all to believe, save for those darkest hours where you fight to suppress the knowledge that you are the engine of your destruction, that the path you are bleeding on is the one you must travel. They act as they must to build their own fantastic fantasies, using you as you they, so that like a tape worm in the belly of a dog, you choke of each other with bloated death and fall beneath the feet of those behind you.

So where does that leave us, faithful you and I? I suppose it comes back to choices but this takes it one step further. Point two of the case then is: Not only do I choose to fail but I actively set up my circumstance to make it happen. Perhaps it is subconsciously but it is still premeditated. This takes my standing even lower on the scale of unusable humanity, dipping towards the single digits of the meter.

But is that enough to damn me to the outcast I see myself as? Being the waste of energy and space existing in a half life of self fulfilling prophecy? No, it is not enough for I still have a few ticks on the marker left that could give some the hope of my redemption, that slimmest ray of light in a vast dark cavern that I might find my way back into the fields of golden light and streams of refreshing water.

No I must finish my case in the grandest of Hollywood style, the tense moments as the prosecutor stands poised like a jungle cat, claws dug in earth, prepared to deliver the killing blow that will spring closed the jaws of justice. See how the sparkles of dust in the sunlight streaming through the windows slow and slow further until all motion seems to take a thousand years to advance and then the verdict is served.

I want to be deceived. I want to be destroyed. I want to go down in flames like a lumbering 747 with a bomb in its cargo hold. I want to flayed and bitten and trampled to dust. I want that brief instant of pain so bright that it blinds the mind and then with final, crushing force, feel the steering wheel slam the life out of me.

And then it will be darkness. Then it will be peace. Then the violence and the hurt and the tears and the words and the dreams and the hours and the minutes and the seconds of each night and the calls and the bills and the traffic and the queues and the people and the televisions and the loneliness and the emails and the games and the fucking stupid lovers and the rain and the streets and the garbage and the cell phones and the artistic masterpieces and the dog shit and the cat vomit and the grass and the flowers and the sky and the moon and the tequila and the piercing and the vegetables and the cities and the mountains and the every expanding empty fucking universe will stop.


But I'm just another stupid sheep. I know my place. I know my purpose. I am nothing and nobody so fuck off.

I know I'm dead on the surface But I'm screaming underneath

Nov 09, 2005 13:29 # 40314

harold_maude *** replies...

So well spoken

I feel the same way about myself most of the time. Only most of the time I just keep feeling it and just end up not saying it.
I admire your honesty. And willingness to just put it out there.

Nov 09, 2005 14:00 # 40316

kylebellamy *** replies...

Re: So well spoken

Thanks. It is hard to admit your own failings and even harder to admit they are your own fault. But in the end, there is no growth without truly understanding yourself and not only admitting it to yourself, but to everyone else.

I am constantly disgusted by people around me who offer platitudes of hope, comfort and examples of how they have a solution if I would just look at their lives and follow suit.

Anyway, I appreciate the vote of solidarity. And after all that writing, I actually like myself a little better. *smiles*

I know I'm dead on the surface But I'm screaming underneath

Nov 09, 2005 14:11 # 40318

harold_maude *** replies...

Re: So well spoken

That's a good thing. Being honest to yourself about yourself is hard.

I'm wishing with all I know about myself, that the art I love would just become this human, and take me and crush me like so much dust.
And then reasemble me so that I wouldn't be so much like I am.
I'm wrapped in the throws of depression again this morning.
And it sucks to be tangled up like so much seaweed in a boat motor.

I'm an eccletic eccentric artist. And we are prone to deep dark endless moments and hours of facing ourselves in a rather smoke stained dirty mirror in the middle of the night....

I would like to be a cookie just for once and see the world from a plate of chocolate covered ants wondering who the hell tuned out the lights.

Nov 09, 2005 14:29 # 40319

kylebellamy *** replies...

Re: So well spoken

I'd like to be a cookie too. But I want to be eaten so I can see the world like a Discovery Channel show about the digestive system. Granted, swimming in acid would not be fun but seeing as I am a cookie, I don't have any nervous system so it wouldn't be so bad.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, as we near the end of the esophagus you will begin to see signs of acid-reflux damage which can be common in over-stressed artist types but is really a condition that can show up in even the very relaxed of individuals.

Ready to enter that amazing cavity that dominates most humans lives {aside with a wiggling of eyebrows} except for the penis which dominates a full half of the species! lol{/aside}? Welcome to the stomach!

Look there to the left! This is a rare site indeed! That waterfall, folks, is actually an acid pump that generates the fluid we are now sailing on..."

I know I'm dead on the surface But I'm screaming underneath

Nov 09, 2005 14:39 # 40320

harold_maude *** replies...

Re: So well spoken

Now there is an interesting way to view the world of a cookie.
I like it.

Being consumed. I could live with that.

But I'm not sure that comming out after all that would be so ok.
All changed and really weird...I'm already strange enough.

But I love the idea of going through the digestive system.
I wonder what other stuff you would run into and if it would be as insane as I would be by that make that completely over the edge filled with resoulte madness.

Madness is better than insanity. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.
I'm an expert on that.
Not that I ment to be. I ment to do something differnt, honest I did, but I keep ending up getting drawn to that same thing over and over and it's beginning to make me wonder how deep the adiction to it goes.

But if you must lock me up for my addiction with all these disginigrating other cookies can I please have a towel at least so I can see what's comming up next?

Nov 10, 2005 13:49 # 40331

kylebellamy *** replies...

Re: So well spoken

?% | 1

As one well versed in things (and certain bits of literature), I can assure you that a towel is definately the thing to have wherever you may go. Granted, taking it with through the bowels of a person can be rather difficult as it does take up space.

What got my brain going last night was a report I heard on public radio that said that tress and all of their beautiful colors are really something much more that we think of them as.

Fall is, in fact, a massive battle fought to secure rights in the future of the coming spring. Each tree loads up it's dying leaves with poisons and chemicals that are designed to destroy the neighboring species and thus gain more sunshine and nutrients.

It is a strange thing to think of when looking at a hillside covered in th ebriliant reds and yellows that are so pleasing to the eye.

It also begs the thinker to consider that even on such a passive and non-intellectual level, the base of nature is to destroy by any means so that you might gain.

I know I'm dead on the surface But I'm screaming underneath

This post was edited by kylebellamy on Nov 10, 2005.

Nov 10, 2005 14:21 # 40334

harold_maude *** replies...

Re: So well spoken

Yes. It does make one ponder.
Nature has a distructive push about it.
But so does any creative force.

It's violent and beautiful all at the same time. Even when it's hard to see that beauty.
It's unstoppable. And I like that.
It reminds me that man is a creature that loves to control things.
Control is an illusion. We arn't in control, we are only caretakers of this planet.

It makes me wonder, what you said about the trees loading their leaves up with chemicals and poisons if that's why they smell so good.
The fragrance of fallen leaves is quite potent. And I like that too.
In fact, fall is my absoult favorite season.
It's delicious and fleeting.
It leaves you wanting more. But you only get so much.

It drives the want deeper. At least in this one wandering sojourner.

The chemistry part is amazing. To think that all that is going on while we get to watch.
Kind of like being in a huge ancient labratory, with all thoes strange bottles and flasks sitting on stone shelves just waiting to be pulled and mixed and then...
and then...the most amazing things happen.

It takes me where it will. It does things to me that I love.
I would love to see the geometry of leaves under a very powerful microscope and just hang out and wait for what ever it was going to unfold.
Questions, and thoughts, and most of all more dreams.

Yes, for all my diving deep into so many places, I am a dreamer, as well as an artist.
I love how fall reminds me of the possiblities of so many things.
And how for a few weeks I can't escape it.
It's like a touch that goes way deep inside you and holds you, and takes your breath away.
And when it's gone, the last traces of it swept away by winter, it makes me sad.
I have to wait a whole year before I get to go there again.

On some wayside path I found myself
and found the company of silence
to be quite welcome.
I lingered through the day
thinking many things
and the memory of a kiss
got caught in my hair
as the wind smiled upon my wanderings.
The sun slipped through half naked trees
and touched my face gentle
in the chilled air.
Leaves, like ghost laughter
closed round my feet,
and as my hands got lost
wandering around inside that place
of golds and reds and browns
home to my soul
the song came drifting up
through all that color....

I am a strange sort of wander I think. But then most of us who get lost in the throws of artistic delerium that is delicious and intoxicating are.

Nov 10, 2005 14:39 # 40335

kylebellamy *** replies...


Yet when I look beyond the trappings of this little speck of dust we live on, gazing out into the reaches of the solar system and beyond, I find it hard to believe that we are caretakers of anything but rather little organic bits of a system confined to a fragile cage that is our freedom to become and our prison at the same time.

In all the whirling and exploding and drifting that is the universe around us, we have found no evidence that we are not a fluke, a bubble in a cold and dead sea. But that must also be our mandate.

If we are alone, unique to even this portion of that which is know, then it is all the more important to fight and scratch and claw like beasts to ensure our survival. It is the ultimate call to war, the trupeting of the war cry to tear down those who would threaten the balance of what is in this little cage.

They who would rape the last untouched places, who would turn a blind eye towards the poisoning of their own people. Like the tree in autumn, they kill those around them that would take their space, their money.

Or are they justified in their actions? The do mirror all of nature, red in tooth and claw.

It is a fractal example,
up close and from afar.
The leaves destroying the competition
as the businessmen destroy the trees.
So what is the final result?
Like an overpopulation of deer, starving themselves,
we are beginning to see the effects of our greed.
Oil and money. Starvation. Widening divide of economy.
The day is coming.

I know I'm dead on the surface But I'm screaming underneath

Nov 10, 2005 23:56 # 40352

harold_maude *** replies...

Re: Autumn

I agree with what you said.

But I also believe we are caretakers. And this is why. We live on this planet. And the fact that we do live here, means we should care about it, and tred lightly as much as possible.
I know that's not what we've done as a species.
But just because we haven't doesn't mean we shouldn't or arn't responsible for what we've done.
It's kind of like having a child. As parents we are caretakers of that child.
Yes I know there is so much more, but the idea of being a caretaker carries with it responsiblity.
Not that anyone in the corporate world gives much of a shit about responsiblity.
But that doesn't mean it isn't still there.

I know that the need and drive to survive is part of who we are, but I also believe we are capable of so much more.
It doesn't mean that we even come close to living up to that, but I think it means something and matters if we try.

Kind of like the butterfly effect. It touches something somewhere.
And even making a small difference is better than making no difference at all.

I do believe we arn't alone.
There are too many definitions of what life is to limit it to just homosapians, and other beasts that have 4 base pairs to their existance.

In my research into sacred geometry I'm finding the question of what is life, and how do you define life becomming more and more interesting.

I've started wandering around a bit into quantum physics. I suspect that it will be like my approach to everything else, from the back door instead of the way it's normally taught.
Being an aritst it makes more sense to me to approach things from a visual road rather than alot of techinal terms that don't mean anything to me until I've bashed about in it and the questions that mean something to my understanding of it show up.

So far the idea of chaos, I think that's how it's spelled, is intriging to me.

I'm also interested in the idea of choice and decision, in relation to all of this.

Say your walking down a road and come to a fork, which do you choose?
How do you choose?
And if you get part way down the road and decide to turn back what does that mean?

Then on another day your going down the same road, and decide to go into the woods rather than take either of the forks presented what will that end up being?

I liked the poem by the way, it's got a wonderful cynical edge to it.
And I do agree with you that things are comming.
Just don't know when.

I know that even if the whole population of the earth stop doing distructive things right now that it wouldn't change what is comming.

Looking up at the stars at night, this is what I find myself wondering about them, are they aware that we are both made of the same stuff?
If we are both made of the same stuff could that mean that stars have intellegance?
Just in a different way than we know and reconize intelligence?

What is intellegence after all, but a certian type of perception that exists.
but that's only my thought on it.

This post was edited by harold_maude on Nov 11, 2005.

Nov 11, 2005 13:56 # 40371

kylebellamy *** replies...

Re: Autumn

On reading your latest post, I reminded of a Calvin and Hobbs cartoon in which they were standing around a cut down tree stump and Calvin remarks to Hobbs "The surest sign of intellegent life elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us." How true.

I too am a fan of quantum physics from the back door perspective. It is most possibly the only thing that can tie together all of this maddness into something coherent enough to be understood.

I remember reading a couple of books by Douglas Adams about a character called Dirk Gently who was a holistic detective and the stories were riddled with quantum ideas. One of my favorite was that Dirk would pick a car at random to follow when he needed to get somewhere. He would rarely get to where he wanted to go but alwasy would end up right where he needed to be.

Given that there are an infinite number of possibilities of other choices that you make and understanding the possibility of these possibilities, they then become real and form an infinite number of universes that are slight variations of each other. As such, I believe it is only a matter of time before I figure out how this works and then I can pop into different one as I choose, preferably where I have a ton of money, am married to Milla Jovovich and am perfectly content. OR that I am a very powerful Jedi. With a lightsaber. Yeah, That would be cool.

The question that most people can't stand to contemplate when it comes to the quantum theory of the multiverse is this: Are we the originating universe, with all our choices spawning all the others, or are we just a branch off the main one?

Are we the dreamer or the dream?

I know I'm dead on the surface But I'm screaming underneath

Nov 11, 2005 22:22 # 40379

harold_maude *** replies...

The perfect place

Oh to be in the perfect place, universe. Deep sigh...that would be nice.
But then there is that one moment that comes along and your somewhere else all the sudden.

I love the idea of mulitdimensional universes. It's like watching a spinning tethradehron.
Or maybe two or three, or more.
Have you ever stood between two mirrors the same size and just looked into either one?

That's what I love about the idea. The possiblity that all the possiblities are endless.

It's a delicious way to get lost in thought.
So many choices, and each choice has an infinte number of outcomes.
It does make me wonder if I could see all the end results of all thoes choices all at once, in one place and be able to comprehend what they all were, would I choose a perfect world, or one where I feel as much and as intensely as I do right here right now?

I have to take into consideration what I want and don't want.
How well I know myself, and what is really deep down inside me before I could even come close to making any kind of choice at all as to the world I would choose.

I know several guys who would like Milla as their wife.
I'll have to add your name to that growing list.
She has incredible eyes.
Something akin to ice that's on fire.

Being an artist I have this thing about the eyes. Either male or female, it doesn't matter which.
I saw this guy once with the most incredible blue green eyes.
I asked if he was wearing contacts and he said no.
They reminded me of the pictures of the water around an island.
I could have spent days just staring at his eyes.
But being that I'm sure that would have sounded completely insane, I didn't ask.

One of my sisters has gold eyes. Seriously. Her eyes are a shade of brown that I've only seen in her.
Wish she were more like her eyes, more of a beautiful person inside instead of being like a bull in a china cabinet.

Mine are the color of pine trees. Yes that color of green.
Very strange, that they arn't the normal color of green that most people have, who have green eyes.

I know one person who has eyes the color of grey steel. When he gets pissed they turn deep grey, almost cold.
Like if he could shoot lasers from his eyes they would cut a person in half.

The person who's eyes I would love to see up close and personal are Liz Taylors eyes. Violet eyes. Now that's something amazing.

Now in thinking about quantum theory and the idea of alternate universes, and realities, what color would her eyes be if the genes that determine eye color had in a single moment shifted just to the left or right, or what color would they be if there was less of one part.

Maybe in some other reality she has brown eyes.
The possiblity that is that really takes you sidewasy is this one: Maybe right now in another paralle universe you are married to Milla and you have a house full of kids and your like willie wonka most days.

Now there's an interesting picture.

Small text Large text

Netalive Amp (Skin for Winamp)