Identity

Metamorphism (July 17, 2012)

I am constant change

in a world so plain

and beyond my reach

I can teach the

Mystery of

My mind.

My thoughts are long

My head is strong

My lips can move

If I choose

My eyes are big

And the graves I dig

Are growing in size.

I bury the old

Discover the new

Carry my pride

And with worries, few

Look to the sky

And wonder why

It feels so good

To be alive.

-x-

Everyone travels down their own path, which connects to one road, which leads to one destination.

All is mind & the universe is mental

It is possible to know something and not understand it, but to understand something that you do not know is impossible. This is basic logic that often seems to be forgotten. We are only wise when we accept our ignorance.

Hi, I’m Kim.

19. Student. Creative Writer.

Straight. Sorry ladies.

I like cannabis, nighttime, the sky&beyond, creepy shit, 90s cartoons, coffee, dreaming, philosophy, literature, long walks, thunderstorms, the woods, peepers, impulsed behavior, collecting, making music, sharks, people watching, creating, destroying, bloggin, mind games, puns, and cats

I like to talk, but I save my voice for the ones who know how to get me to speak. The ones who might understand me.

-x-

4/21/13

Sometimes I didn’t feel like a girl. Most of the time I didn’t feel human. Maybe I only came in contact with the worst examples of the female race, obscuring my idea of what it means to be a woman. But most of them see the same. For me, it wasn’t about what I could get, it was about creating what I wanted. I liked thinking and creating, exploration and destruction. I thrived off of chaos; mayhem excited me to the core. I was a creator of horror because fear fascinated me. I saw things and people for whom and how they were and most of the time it steered me away from socialization. Some would call it shyness; some would deem it as a fear to connect. Both are invalid assumptions. I was an introvert. I connected with few, but that brought me satisfaction. I felt it was more satisfying to spend my time alone than with people who I didn’t enjoy. Friendship didn’t come with a number; I didn’t seek it by the mass. I had a few, true connections and those bonds brought me great contentment.

-x-

I’m a person predominantly concerned with my own thoughts and feelings rather than with external things. Certainly my thoughts and feelings are a top priority and receive a lot of attention. I am what I am because of my thoughts. What I imagine is real and defines my very existence. My mind creates my reality. My feelings create bonds with those I care for. It is only completely sensible and necessary to concern myself with my thoughts and feelings. External goods are responsible for distracting most humans from what is important. Consumption is the only drive for survival, it seems. The sacred television advertises new and improved products for the religious watchers to crave. The magazine readers are fed instructions to perfecting their appearance and appeal (filling the mold of a plastic clone). The shallow-thinking humans, or surface dwellers, strive to fit into the regulations of the social norm simply because they distract themselves from their own (hidden) abilities. They subconsciously believe they cannot think for themselves and therefore look to another power for guidance and ideas. They satisfy their hunger by shopping for the newest trend of clothing, the best line of skin care, the (arguably) highest quality of food, the fanciest resorts, the impressive vehicle, the desirable residence, and so on and so forth. These humans live to consume. They work hard to make money to spend on external goods. To them, this is satisfaction. The theory of graspingness controls these individuals like an inner demon. They feel good by consuming, and therefore want more. The more they consume, the better they will feel. The more they have, the better they must be. They link over-consumption with superiority. More is better. More is good. They seem to forget that feeding a stuffed cow will only make it sick.

But there are external goods that I crave: weed, coffee, cats, film, candles, antique bullshit etc. etc.

We all consume. Just not all of us stuff our faces with junk.

I lock myself away to hide from the surface dwellers. It’s a defense mechanism used to humor myself into thinking they have disappeared. I don’t always need to hide behind a closed door to hide. I walk the streets of my campus with my head aimed towards the sky. I sense the vibes of my peers. I know who is worth examining and who is worth ignoring. I have no ill feelings for these people, no hatred. If anything, it’s pity, but even that might be too much. Frankly, they don’t concern me. They may exist in my world, but they don’t exist on my plain. They might see my vessel, but they don’t see me. I am far away.

I dedicate my time to myself and my friends and the little family I have left. The time I have free of responsibilities is used to enhance my perspective on life and evolving myself. It’s used for wondering, wandering, imagining, dreaming, creating, and destroying.

As it should be.

I wonder how many people actually follow me.

And I’m not referring to tumblr.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the content on my page unless stated otherwise.

^I own dis