xVeritas_Lux_Mea
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Name: xVeritas_Lux_Mea
Location: Poughkeepsie, New York, United States
Gender: Female


Interests: the human mind // dreams // books // piano // guitar // psychology // philosophy // sociology // poetry // languages // various cultures and traditions // foreign proverbs // Latin phrases // cryptograms // solitude // Palahniuk // E.A. Poe // Steven King // things with multiple meanings // Existentialism // Art // John W. Waterhouse // Surrealism // Mark Ryden // Salvador Dali // horror films // alternative views // absurdity // suicide // epidemics // many many things with the ending --ism... various beliefs
Occupation: Student


Message: message me
AIM: QuothTheRavyns


Member Since: 4/14/2005

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Tuesday, June 07, 2005

I have this awesome idea for a story line. I think when I have a little more time (summer) I'll get around to actually writing it.

*****

Anyway, there's this boy who is obsessed with this other guy. and I mean it, he's extremely obsessed. In fact, that's probably an understatement in itself. He obviously idolizes this other guy and is convinced that he'd do practically anything for him. He is insecure and apprehensive, never daring to cross the line to make his "god" upset... and all the while determined to do anything and everything in his power to get the guy to accept him. For as long as he has known this other guy, he has tried to become just like him. He looks up to him. He feels if he can relate, he can be loved. There are so many unoriginal thoughts that boil within his fake plastic mind, yet he does not possess the mental capacity to realize such things. He is a disgrace to his idol and a pitiful embarrassment to his intelligence. Constantly over exaggerating what are such simple and meek thoughts. He is happy when his beloved is happy, and he, whether consciously or subconsciously, undoubtedly has brought about a deep [and often unnecessary] depression in order to relate. When his icon writes, he must write. What he reads, he must read.

The boy has extremely low self-esteem and does not know his place in society. He thinks he has escaped the ignorance (or at least pieces of ignorance) that dwell in his society. Yet he does not realize how stupid he seems when he projects his ideas. He does fails to comprehend that many others realize such things and have accepted them, as they should be accepted. With exaggeration, he makes a fool of himself, yet it does not matter so long as his superstar is still slightly in his grasp.

He has a mental condition and he does [surprisingly] realize that something is simply... different about him. Yet somehow, he lacks the common sense to do anything about it, and in doing so, brings countless more days of grief to his infatuation. He believes he possesses a feeling, an emotion, for this being... a feeling that cannot even be described as love. For he is confused as to whether or not it is actually love, or perhaps something greater. Because of this, one of his greatest fears is losing the one he submits to time after time. He is weak, and does not care if he shows it. Nor does he care if his precious is made uncomfortable when placed so high above him. No, he does not realize, or rather care, much at all.

He is selfish and knows that he is selfish. In no way does he have any respect for the wishes and views of his fetish. He will continue to need. He must know everything, all for his own pleasure and satisfaction. A hypocrite by nature, and a deficiency by default. He dare not stray from the ground, made golden upon the footsteps of a true hero. His hero may stumble, fall, and break... changing himself into something completely new. With new realizations. Altered and abandoned beliefs. Yet, as these realizations occur, as these beliefs are altered and abandoned, he will embrace whatever may surface. He is obligated to. For he is too dependant to live within his own meager and bland life.

He has spoiled himself, and he has ruined his life. Never will he do what he wants to do... it will always be for someone else. It needs to be. He needs it to be.

He cannot see a day in which he knows the face of his cherished will never be seen again. He will always refuse, doing whatever it takes to prevent such a thought.

Never can he be without a GOD. His existence rests upon a sole being, who is the only one who has ever [and ever will] understand him... or so he has convinced himself.

He is a well-rounded disappointment.

*****

I'm too tired to write up the other character profiles today. Maybe I'll get around to it tomorrow. I'm thinking, for the conclusion, about having the "idol" or "god" kill himself because he can't take the pressure anymore. As in, the idea of going another year, or even semester, seeing this "shadow" in his life... is enough to drive him to the point of pure insanity and irrationality.

Ooo, or then maybe... all of this can come about when he figures out [with the help of his therapist] that his "stalker" has been a major cause for all of his emotional distress. That he has spent multiple sessions passionately expressing the situation, along with his emotions. I think both him and his therapist will end up agreeing that any further contact will undeniably prevent further progress. Maybe he'll even have a meeting with his therapist and parents on the issue, in order to figure out what can be done.

I guess in other words, the protagonist (the "god") has been emotionally tattered inside and will continue to be until the only available solution is to destroy whatever is left untattered. His thoughts are invisible to everyone else, including his disciple... but perhaps with the exception of his therapist. It'll be interesting to see if I decide to make the guy kill himself or I decide that his stalker will perish from his life with a genuine act of respect and dignity. What do you think?

Any suggestion for a title is always welcome!! Pretty interesting, eh?


Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Something very interesting happened to me today. I decided to stay after school with Lana and help her with her art project, but ended up doing math and chemistry instead. However, when Lana went out of the room to make a phone call, Ms.Palmer came over and started showing me techniques that would make her painting look better. The brush as it glided along that canvas was so mesmerizing. I don't know what was wrong with me... but I had a very strong desire to do something artistic.

She eventually paused and handed the brush over to me, saying "here." And so I took it, like any other person would, and I began to paint in those swift and light motions. For some reason, my hand began to shake and I became really nervous and tense... it was ridiculous.

...It's plagued me in nearly everything I've ever done, whether it be school or hobbies... writing or art... I can't help but think that the finished product of whatever it is I'm doing is not going to be good enough. What the hell is "good enough"? Is it the pressure that my parents put on me? Or my peers? Maybe it was caused at a young age by those types of influences... maybe. I don't understand why I place so much pressure on myself. I just want to be content with myself. With who I am. With my accomplishments.

She's never happy, is she? Nothing's ever good enough, is it?

There are some people out there who can relate to what I say. Yes, a fear of failure does exist, and it is damaging.

It controls my success... and it controls my LIFE. How many things have I avoided in the past just because I was terrified of it not meeting my own expectations?? Is this perfectionism that seems to have made it's mark upon me? I'm not sure what to call it... but whatever it is, I need to get rid of it. I need to realize that thoughts of the end result should NEVER affect the original "spark."

I just need to find my courage again.


Saturday, May 28, 2005

Maybe I'm just too fucked up.

Oh well...

That's life.

It seems like nowadays I just can't get things right. My piano playing is suffereing along with my guitar... my modivation must have given up on me... things are just turning into a mess... yet again. Surprise... what's new. Never can I be stable... never can I stay positive. I guess it's just not possible.

What's the point of private entries when others cannot share in my pathetic rambling...

Monday, May 23, 2005

What's there to say? I don't exactly know how to feel anymore, as all my thoughts are confusing me too much. I know it's impossible for me to escape this... I know that I'm just slipping back. I do the same exact thing every time. Atleast I can say that's it's been this long. What? Two months maybe? Honesty, I have no idea... but it's been a while... definitely the longest it's ever been in years.

I cannot block these feelings anymore. I can only look inside of myself and see what I've been trying to bury over again and again... only to have it resurface again and again. Am I more comfortable in this state of depression? With all of these regrets? and all of this dullness? It all seems so irrational, yet what am I to do but blame myself for this mess inside my head.

One day she is fine... she feels beautiful and confident. She feels accomplished and pensive. Energetic and content.

The next... she is realizing that she is balancing delicately on the border between "happiness" and depression.

Every time that I write or speak that word, depression, I can't help but wonder if "depression" is what I am actually feeling. I try to tell myself over and over again that what I've gone through in the past is only typical behavior... something that nearly everyone goes through. Yet there's something in me that refuses to believe that. It hurts me to think that these feelings are "normal" and "natural." Are they? When I say that I have no desire to live... do I really mean it? Everything is just becoming so overwhelming. My expressions and my moods change all too frequently... I have no idea which side of myself to believe anymore.

I'm not even sure if I want help... or if I've ever wanted help.

This depression... it's back yet again.


Monday, May 23, 2005

magicmushrooms

You are Magic Mushrooms!

You don't mind taking a little mind trip - even if it leaves you with a ripped up stomach.
You're keen on sitting back and checking out the visuals. Or talking with your cat.
And you're up for the orgasmic powers of shrooms, as soon as your lover stops looking like an alien.

What Drug Are You?
 
 
Ahh, yes... one of these days... it's just something that I'm going to do "just to see what it's like." Fucking curiosity...


Sunday, May 22, 2005

I'm back from a great vacation.

And that's all there is to say about that.

I have a lot to say about a lot of different things, but I guess I'll just leave it for other days...

I hope everyone is well



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