it's a little hard to type out anything with any substance while i read Dostoevsky. i keep having waves of depression that wash over my body. It's not all consuming, as would appear usual causality to anyone who reads this on a regular basis or has the distinct pleasure to know me personally. It's a mere wave, gently brushes off my skin, leaves me with a small shudder and passes with unknown laughter. For a few seconds, if that, my whole mind and soul feel connected to an unwavering truth of humiliation. it's akimbo to when you believe in something very deeply, only to have that belief so obviously proven wrong, you don't feel truly awful. You all at once feel relief but melancholy, wishing it could be but happy that you finally know the truth, even if it leaves you in a more negative world.
Perhaps i've come to grips with the lack luster degree of humanity. I'm not a liberal, or atleast wouldn't consider myself one, but plainly we live in a world of grave injustices. Men who continually succeed regardless of character and responsibility, merely good publicists and what most would refer to as luck. But it is not luck! it is our own doing that such people come to power and do the horrible things they do after the realization that they shall not be hung for them sets in. The most troublesome of this thought, is that perhaps under the same circumstances i would (And in the realm of my world where i have limitless power in certain scenarios, have) do(ne) the same.
anyway, i digress. It's odd because i feel so much more, not just now but in general. i can completely see how something is affecting me, how my mood changes or what is going on, as one might with the physical. Pardon my lack of better words, i can only come up with a rough analogy: its like when you stub your toe, you can feel the pain, but you can also sense it, as if you were someone else viewing your body as a whole. That's how i've begun to feel with all things emotional. I feel like i'm watching myself react to something, but at the same time can control the reactions in spite of, or perhaps because of this. This has lead to a clearly more capable and less out-of-control mikey. watch tomorrow i'll snap and kill. i have no choice but to believe this is from my fleeting attempts at meditation, like some madman who believes that the garlic in his lunch cured his unwavering hiccups. Excuse my crude manner, it's how the waves pass so quickly.