on the balcony, a giant tree
lie on it, looking up
reading
wind blows, hurried
underwater
sea of green
cool and safe

I know what I'm looking for.

I don't know what I'm looking for.

I wish I wasn't a night owl.

Half the fun in life is never knowing if what you're doing is really the right thing for you. This is our generation in a nutshell. We all deliberate. We have all the education and yet know nothing. We are so concerned about our futures and at the same time all we really want to do is live in the present. If something is good for you, and you know it is good, does that mean it is the right thing? Of course it fucking doesn't. We want the best thing. We want what is best for ourselves but at the same time not knowing whether it actually is what is best for us. What we want, we want without knowing it. Everyone, no matter whether they're better at maths or English (or are just plain fucking stupid) is inquisitive or curious about something. If you were to define the human race in one sentence, it's probably by the endless quests we give ourselves and never want to complete. The reason behind this is simple, and I'm sure you all know it. If everything was defined and resolute… if computers, for instance, could analyse what are our individual problems or questions, and print out the answers on some 'to do' list, what would be left? Nothing would be left, you would become a computer. You would know everything and everything would be rounded and truthful. Truthful and dull. The only thing that would then make your life interesting, if you adhered to this 'to do' list, would be other people. People hate problems but at the same time we love them. Problems are what make people's lives interesting. Problems are what dominate every single movie and television show. We are transfixed by this sea of problems that has become so second nature that they no longer dominate our consciousness. All we know is that we are drawn to them. We have to see how people deal with them. How Scott is dealing with the demise of his two-year relationship with Sarah, as they 'want different things.' They don't want different things. They want the same fucking thing, but just want it at different times, and ultimately, all they really want is a problem to make their life more interesting. Jane, a friend of Scott's, finds this highly interesting. Jane feels sympathy for Scott, as he's a 'nice guy,' but not the kind of sympathy that would cause Jane to lose sleep at night. Sarah is going to do what she needs to do, then realise she wanted what Scott  wanted back then, and then proceed to be all fucked up and depressive and probably, secretly, love it. In the back of our minds, all we're really thinking of is what is going to happen. How will Scott deal with this or Sarah overcome this? What will we learn from it? It's so easy to be detached from everything and simply watch it happen, completely unemotionally. This isn't fucked up either. It's human nature.

everybody is green these days. one of my best friends is an extremely dedicated environmentalist. the type that collects excess
water from his showers in a bucket, and then uses
that water for the garden plants.

i'm currently in melbourne as i write this, after
an 8 hour long unleaded trip with four adults in
a cramped car. we're staying in some fucking pseudo-hippy house. home to a family of four (a husband and a wife, and two sons). they're green. the love the environment. baking soda sits atop the toilet in the hope of being sprinkled upon unknowing fesces.. if that is indeed what it is used for.

my point is is that everything in the house is
slightly fucked; the fabrics of their coats have
intermittent stains, their towels smell like off
milk, all of the furniture has scratches and marks, or stickers and dust. the curtains are snapped off at the ends, and the shower curtain has 5 different types of moulds, and the 500 or so different books that sit atop their bookshelves are scuffed in their own little individually significantly fucked up way.

they like this life. you can tell. you can tell by
the way it is so openly displayed. they don't give
a shit who sees these inner-workings of their house as i write about it now. it doesn't matter. even as i look about their kids room now their is a frame that sits literally at a 45 degree angle. perhaps hippies should use circular frames?

so.. the environment. they don't wash their clothes as often because it uses water. they buy secondhand furniture because they don't want to take from the earth. they collect mould on their shower curtain because it adds to the diversity of life's organisms. fuck i hate cliches. i really want to say:
"at what point do you step back"
or "at what point do you say 'enough is enough'"
but i can't. i hate that shit. they don't do it
so why the fuck should i. but do they ever crave
something new? something fresh? something unscarred? sometimes i think you just want something new so that when it does eventually gain its scar you knew how it happened. there is a story behind it. if you receive something with a scar of its own you wonder how it got it, who made it, why. that scar is completely out of your control. it is there and done. but new devices - they're like a bubble wrap with no pops. you want to make the pops yourself. while you know you don't want to scratch it, it is almost nice to have a scratch or two on it, to show that it is yours, to make it unique.

i guess i just project what i want to their stage in life when what i want will inevitably change by that stage, and priorities will differ.

the reason why i haven't written as many journals lately is because i always used to question things, and felt as though i had to express that to a wider audience. since then i've just come to accept things rather than question them. this is not to say i don't question things, but rather i let people do the things they want and don't feel the need to question it. most people are obvious. once you come to learn the patterns that people fall into, the life of others becomes less interesting. most people just fall into a pattern. and a pattern is just part of the wider fabric. the fabric that makes up life and the world and the things seen. fabric is ultimately a logical thing, it is woven, it is strung tight.
yet people themselves are hardly ever logical. ants are born communists and environmentalists don't make their own scars.

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