NEW DOCUMENTARY ON A POLISH MEGALOMANIAC ARTIST WITH THE TALENTS TO BACK THE BOASTING UP
(Random bursts of thoughts)
For the past few years, my life has been on hold. From ages 18-25 I was on the run from every struggle life had put me through up till then.
Life is weird, man.
I know what it's like to want to die. i know fear. it used to be my only friend. my subconscious has always been overactive. my dreams haunt me. even in my dreams she leaves me. whoever "she" may be.
my first vivid panic attack, i was 14 or 15. i was all alone in a bedroom. i became overwhelmed by the feeling that something was deeply wrong and something was coming for me. it was my own mind. a sick head knocked around by soulless creatures for too long. a tortured soul. a lost child. god dammit i was so fucking alone. i cried in the corner squeezing my knees tightly until i fell asleep. my monsters live inside me.
i'm finally over you. oh my god, it feels so good. i was sick on you for almost a fucking decade. you destroyed me, so i could rebuild myself. you taught me how to love even the cruelest individuals.
i will no longer self destruct.
i don't give a fuck. i'm gonna live life the way i want to.
i promise i'll love you. is that enough?
i'm really fucking cool if you get to know me. the challenge is getting to know me. i don't share my thoughts with everyone. don't let this blog post trick you. there are lifetimes to this soul. i've got experiences for centuries.
I intend on posting more here. In a year, this website will look completely different. If not, make sure you call me out on it.
I ventured out into this wilderness with Brian today. We attempted to get some shots.
I'm editing and listening to Atmosphere.
Here are the results:
i wrote you a letter.
i know you'll never write me back.
i don't know how to make the first move anymore.
i used to be such a sweet talker.
i broke down like an old pick up truck in the middle of the desert:
overwhelmed, steaming, & screaming for help.
i want my life to be different.
will you be a part of it?
i'm not a part of some broken hearts club. i'm not some emo kid.
i'm depressed. i'm fucking sad. sometimes i feel empty. and for so long i hated myself for it. sick with the inability to be happy. symptoms: fixation on self-deprecation; acts of self-mutilation; isolation. now, i accept it. it's the only way to actually keep on living. to resist is to continue suffering in denial.
acceptance is purpose.
i have more confidence now. you can't break me anymore. you never could.
if you fuck it up,
that's your fault.
i'm a realist with a utopian dream.
i'll never give up on love.
i've wandered from place to place trying to find myself by kissing a pretty face. the funny thing is, i've never felt better in the middle of the woods all alone. i'll show you what life looks like through my isolated eyes. i communicate better with paper and pen and light captured in a picture.
bare with me, i'm rusty. i lost myself for a while. i'm back now, though, and i have a story to tell.