Stop living your life in this soulless way, painstakingly manufacturing circumstances so you have some grand story to tell... The fucking stories write themselves.

It's not a small world at all.
It's a huge world.

...We're just all, in a very real sense, family.

I'm offended that most people don't live by "Everything in Moderation", and even more offended by those who do, but forget about the first word in the phrase:  "Everything in Moderation."

Life isn't about fulfilling every whim and desire.
It's about fulfilling the ones you want to fulfill most.


Relativism isn't philosophy, it's the only sociological understanding of cultures, groups, and individual feelings that coincides with evolutionary theory.


There are very few absolutes in the world.

Don't you get it?

Your tastes, preferences... the things you inherently like, the things you don't...
These are all genetic.  You don't have a choice.  It is the very foundation on which we interact with each other, and all we are are victims of circumstance.

Society is an accident.
Free will is an illusion.
Fate exists as our natural boundaries.

Bliss through ignorance doesn't suit you.  ...or maybe it does.

Maybe our psyche are really that fragile.  Perhaps some more fragile than others.

..."Curiosity" is not a feeling on its own, "curiosity" is a feeling derived from other feelings that you can't quite place.  The things you do "out of curiosity" are the things you do to decide something...  To make up your mind on how you feel or how you plan to react in a certain, given situation.  "Curiosity"... is a state of wanting to find more information to get the upper-hand, whether over someone else, life in general, or even oneself.

A gentle, sad smile and a sorry, sideways glance is my reaction to the growing numbers from specific locations.

I'm wrong a lot, but it always humors me when I'm right.

your security is a blanket that smothers your flames.

...hope it's worth it.

... I wonder if life would be any different if I had chosen the scared puppy instead of the overly friendly puppy when my mother and I, six years old, answered an ad for free puppies.

It's becoming difficult to make these memories, even if it comes so naturally, because looking back can bring such large amounts of nostalgia and sadness that it's gone.

Sometimes, due to the nature of discourse, I don't always say what I mean.
But, always, I mean what I say.

Driving down these roads, especially in the dark, is like traveling through time.

Every shadow holds a story, and with that story comes a feeling.

Considering these roads, the feelings felt... the problems, the triumphs of their time...

The innocence of this place was all a facade.