Is it human nature to be this tragic? I suppose the literary condition is to be a recluse that is too expressive, too tragic, and much too passionate for their own good.
Unfortunately, all of these spoken qualities, I possess way too greatly.
It's difficult to elaborate, but I live life too passionately- yes, even on a day to day basis, and even when I am at a tragically depressed 8-8.5. This passion attributes to my personality coming on too strongly. Which I really hate at times. I suppose it's one of my major flaws- though I have too many.
I try- all of the time, to find the perfect words to try and explain this feeling, but I can't. I can hardly explain it, everything is more of a magnetic surge of an intense and rushed feeling of momentum that is utterly trapped in my body which only just continuously bounces around from place to place in confined capacity.
You know, (pay attention, this part is important)
the whole wanting to know so much more that is out there; the hidden arcanum of life and our realm. Indulgent philosophy- finding your own philosophy and reason for living. Finding a personal existential transcendence, being moved by it, applying it, and then seeing life so much more differently than everyone else because indeed within that moment, you have already changed. Knowing that if you expressed and revealed what your soul thrived on to most people, that they wouldn't be capable of even wanting to understanding this too in depth magnitude, which the like of you could only go on forever discussing because you know they would just freak out and panic; henceforth assuming you to be one of those outcasts people refrain from socializing with. But to us kindred souls (you either know you are one or not), the outcast label is a given.
Still too difficult to explain, but thus I tried.
Hmm, something to think about yes?
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