I don’t always like talking about how I feel, if I talk about my feelings it tends to be to certain people (they know who they are, and I am awfully thankful for them – I wouldn’t listen to me, if I were you!). In conversations when someone asks, I am very good at deflecting the question, “how are you?”, or distracting from it. I’ll simply change the subject to something else, and it seems this works. People tend to only ask things like that out of courtesy anyway, I guess very few people care how you actually are – it’s just common etiquette. Or, I simply just answer with a white lie, because it’s easier into delving into your feelings sometimes. I feel violated sometimes when I tell people how I am feeling. I keep my cards close to my chest, and I am very good at covering things up. I have decided to break down some of my walls, and let you into my head. If you wish to read on, read on by all means, but I don’t think it does anything for me personally, and no, it won’t improve your opinions of me… au contraire, quite the opposite, it will probably just make me sound like an ungrateful moaning teenager (which I guess, I am).
Consequence, and consequences are funny things. Every act, moment, movement has a direct consequence, and also an in direct consequence. Some consequences go by un noticed, and do little to change to our world – other consequences can turn our world’s upside down, just in the blink of an eye our lives can be ravaged into a shadow of their former selves. Whether the consequences are good, bad, or simply indifferent, what bothers me most, is the full on lack of regard for consequences. As a society, we’re all guilty of it, including myself (especially myself), for simply not caring. I feel like kicking myself sometimes, because I really cannot bring myself to feel anything, or even care. I know that I should care for the consequences, but I just simply don’t. This inability to feel, what I know I should feel, makes me feel so empty. It is almost like a surreal state, it hits you, and makes you realise how you are nothing, and how you mean nothing. Every human life is insignificant, the human race is insignificant, after finding these obvious revelations disturbing, I sought comfort in them; comfort in the nothing ness of it all. Nothing matters anymore. No one feels any shame either, although as darling friend did point out to me shame is a human social construct…
Many nights (and mornings) of late, I find myself lounging in my bed staring aimlessly at the blank ceiling admiring every dent, and minute cracking of the eggshell white paint, the dulcet sounds of the Q.V.C. shopping infomercials blast in the background. Nothing like the ultimate garden secateurs, at a SPECIAL low price to put you in a good mood right? They even come with a spare blade, and some bogus guarantee. No? Yeah, I thought so. If it’s not some stupid infomercial, it’s some DVD menu playing some god damn awful music again, and again, and again until you find yourself breathing in time to all manner of instruments, noises, and voices. I find myself unable to get up, and change it despite the fact it’s almost physically painful to bear, the same notes, or voices, over, and over again as the hours pass. For the record, the only thing I can listen to again, and again is Canon in D – there is something about that song which makes it an exception to every rule. I feel paralysed in this quasi mental comatose state, my BlackBerry vibrates sporadically, and annoys the hell out of me. It’s next to me, but I cannot even bring myself to turn it off. It just lays on the pillow next to me, staring at me, watching me crystallised in a state of neither awake, or sleep. Truth be told using a disgustingly cliché phrase; I am stuck in a rut, I’m not entirely quite sure how I ended up here. I can only guess that it is just a combination of a multiplitude of factors. Each factor alone is insignificant, and meaningless, but together it just hits me, and I find myself wasting away.
”For the rational, psychologically healthy man,
the desire for pleasure is the desire to celebrate his control over reality.
For the neurotic, the desire for pleasure is the desire to escape from reality.”
Summer started with it’s usual bang, so I find myself wondering why am I so, well, dissatisfied? I feel selfish for feeling how I do, I should be happy, grateful, thankful, and all that, but instead I just feel empty. I try, and take pleasures from the little things in life, and do everything in moderation (although deep down I still believe there’s no such thing as too much of a good thing). An acquaintance a couple of months ago once joked it is as if I am trying to relive the novella Less Than Zero, sadly, I see more similarities than I would like to – it is not a comparison I am fond of.
Despite this I am not going to just sulk in a corner, I am going to set out to change my mood. I am not sure how I can alter it, but I am going to work at it. Loriens don’t go down without a fight, and good thing I am one hell of a feisty person. Quoting someone sort of dear to me;
“Never give up on yourself, never lose who you are,
fight fire with fire and make the most of every day like it’s the last.”
I went for a walk in my garden the other day, despite living in the countryside, I cannot say I particularly spend much time outside. I adore the countryside, but I do really take it for granted. In keep with trying to take pleasures from little things, I’d like to share some photographs I took whilst walking around.
Now to distract myself from life, and myself (well no, everything here is about me, that’s a bit of a fail…), I am going to share with you three of my favourite staple accessories. I am aware that non of my choices are innovative, or ground breaking in terms of unique ness, but they’re not supposed to be, they are all classic pieces. It bothers me people think less of an item because it is renowned, it does not make it any less of a great item – in my opinion anyway.
I actually cannot wait till it’s colder, and I can start to wear scarves again. I love my classic Paul Smith scarf, there is something about the bright colours, and classic iconic design that just make me smile. …and when it’s really cold I have the matching hat too!
I fell in love with this scarf when I first saw it. Alexander McQueen skull print scarves, have become a bit common place, but that’s because they just work. They’re incredibly fierce, and stylish. I am tempted to get another one I saw, I am trying to refrain (but you know how weak my will is when it comes to new purchases…).
I often feel I am too young for Louis Vuitton monogram, as much as I love it. Despite this I love my Louis Vuitton wallet, there is something about the incredible quality, and LV motifs that just does it for me, and shopping at Louis Vuitton is always an exciting shopping experience. Yes, it is a lot of money for just a wallet, but I see a Louis Vuitton piece as an investment, and I simply love my wallet.
I have the inside heat stamped with my initials, because I can …and because it’s all part of the LV shopping experience.
This blog wasn’t too cryptic, so I leave you with a few cryptic lines as I wouldn’t want to disappoint you (you know who you are, and if you don’t see this, then oh well I guess…);
1. I’d quite like to pull designer scarf fluff off of your face again
2. PT misses you, and knows it isn’t easy
3. Dear Abercrombie boy, I thought you were above all that?
4. The Atheist as always you are incredibly amazing
5. I want to sit listening to dubstep wrapped in duvets geeking with you again
6. This blog isn’t about you, nor was the other one – leave me alone please
p.s. I’m still a freak, but I wouldn’t have it any other way
Oh, and if anyone wants to fill any gaping voids in my life, you’re quite welcome to.