123 lines
6.2 KiB
Plaintext
123 lines
6.2 KiB
Plaintext
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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can it feel this wrong?
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-----------------------
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there are some fundamental problems with me, and i am fully aware
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of that as fact. if anyone is qualified to say that about another person,
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self is always it. is my new obsession part of that problem? i'd love
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to know. as i reconsider my intro, i think i am just different. that
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we all find beauty in different places, and that i am just looking
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in a new place.
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recently i have found myself liking a new kind of art. well, to qualify
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i guess i should say that it is likely only i consider it art.
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the turning point that made me realize this came the other day while
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out of town. i sat there looking at someone enthralled by the anguish
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on her face. it made me think back to the CD cover for _Heavenly Voices_
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i recently purchased. the cover is adorned with a woman's face in
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what appears to be guilt ridden pain.
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shortly after seeing her face i realized that the expression she had
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was cause of my joy. all this time, i had taken pleasure in other's pain,
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or more directly, the reflection they had taken of their own pain.
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even more specifically, a beautiful female face wearing the look of
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guilt or sorrow.
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here is an excerpt from a sort of journal i keep, detailing my thoughts
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immediately after the encounter:
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"drizzling rain, steady bumps. one nice thing to an otherwise
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depressing day. Atlanta transit the one hour stage for today.
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Returning to the airport she sat across from me. Friendly smile
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before reading to pass the time. Exchanged time of day for
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brief eye contact.
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i sat there contemplating my day occasionally glancing over. her
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face etched out emotional yin yang and drew me in. corners of her
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mouth turned up, as if she was truly happy. eyes and brow a
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contradiction to that happiness. the anguish etched in her face
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had sat with her for a long time. it was as if i could feel her
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pain and suddenly understand the hurt. one second and all i could
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read was guilt on her brow. what had she done that weighed so
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heavily?
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the buzzer sounded and the train stopped. the doors parted as she
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stood up. with a gentle smile she bid me good day. her happy
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facade had returned and she left me there to ponder her guilt
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for her."
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I think back to her sitting there, staring down at the floor thinking
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about whatever consumed her. I wanted to go over and just touch her
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face. To feel the pain etched in it. Run my finger along the contours
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of her face.
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The thought of guilt, sin, confession, attrition, and other raw emotions
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fascinates me. I find parts of them beautiful to say the least. It is
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difficult for me to describe the relationship between the pain and the
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inherent beauty I see in it.
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discussion on said topic the other day lead to an interesting comment
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by a new friend. she said "pain is one of the most base emotions..
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and a certain naivete is put forth by a genuine display of pain."
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it didn't hit me until over a week later that what she said is dead on.
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think about it. society says not to show pain or any emotion at all.
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showing something so 'bad' and 'primitive' is a sign of weakness.
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to actually show emotion brands you with the label of 'pansy' or
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some other inadequate insult. to show such emotion is more often than
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not done under the guise of art, or by young people. young people
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who are naive about what light they will be held in after doing
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so.
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as well know, what society deems acceptable is hardly an appropriate
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guideline these days. with such a minority leading the way assigning
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values to social and philosophical elements, its easy to get tied
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up in what they decree. what better way to shirk free thought and
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give up control or say in your life. but we have gone down this rant
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before, and the issue at hand is so much more elegant. the face of
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pain...
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as i sit here reviewing what i wrote, i can't help but to think
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how poor a job i have done in describing what i originally set out
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to. how do you adequately describe something you find so beautiful?
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give them something as an example? will that one example really make
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them understand how it affects you? of course not. perhaps telling
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them what extreme you would go through to convey the point? why bother.
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all i know is that i sit here at night sometimes, staring at the faces
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of women in pain. when i do, things seem so clear and calm.
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i look back to my trip to atlanta, and i can picture her face perfectly.
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no details of her, the train, or my feelings are lost and i have this
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feeling they will stay with me. we all feel pain at times. unfortunately,
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we have been told that pain is unconditionally bad, when more often
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than you might expect, it is good. if nothing else, it certainly allows
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us to enjoy pleasure all the more.
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mea culpa
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= Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions =
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= Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) =
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= issues, send a list of any missing issues and they will be mailed. =
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