Tuesday, July 20, 2010

LIGHT. REFLECTIONS. DARKNESS.

Does it not baffle you that everything we see is light? THESE LETTERS ARE NOT BLACK, THEY ARE THE ABSENSE OF LIGHT. (After I posted this I realized they appear white in the blog, not black) Or that red is not red. It's simply light reflecting off a surface. So what does everything look like, when you take away the light? When you take away the sensors in our retina, or pupils, or the combined that register the presence of this light. When you take away the light, everything becomes BLACK. So with that being said, are the objects around us black? Simply reftecting light when it is present? What does everything around us truly look like? Or do they look like anything at all? Just shapes, of nothing but compact matter. WHAT THE FUCK AM I TALKING ABOUT.

Abstract.

My head is a whirlwind right now. Blurs of blue and grey. My mind is bruised from constantly imprinting it with text, stuffing it with knowledge until it expands and there is pressure on my skull from this ever expanding brain of mine, spattering question marks across the wall. I just want to be primitive for a few days. I want to lay in the sun, stare at clouds, huck myself off cement blocks, drink a slurpee. Scratch that, fill an inflatable pool with slurpee and swim in it. My thoughts regarding emotions are locked in a safe, inhibiting themselves. Just stay happy. Be open minded. Am I concentrating on keeping a happy outlook? Or am I just simply numbing myself? Nobody likes a glum critic. But where do these oppressed thoughts and feelings go? Do they dissolve? Do I burn them with happy ones? Do I paint a smile across my face, and constantly retouch it? Or will the acrylic crack one day, and reveal a frown. Why can't the human mind accept that there is such thing as happiness. I am happy. Why do I constantly worry and expect that it will change. Because what goes up, must come down? Fuck you gravity. You are a monster. I am now the gravitational pull, and you can fall towards me. I will stand on your chest triumphantly, hands on my hips like Jack after the giant pummeled from the bean stalk. The atmosphere isn't the end of space, time and existence. I have all the space in the universe to grow.