Journal created:
on 12 September 2002 (#702568)
Updated:
on 12 July 2006
Name:
Somnium Necrosis
Insight. I am a dreamer, a realist, and a cynic. What does that equate? Hell if I know. Perhaps a very confused philosopher. I exist within myself, within silence, within the surreal. My idols are dead, my friends imaginary, and I find nothing more enjoyable than losing myself in music, movies, and books. I die each night and recreate myself by morning light. Romantic. Terribly romantic.
What you should expect to find within my journal. Rants, befuddled rambling, and poetic drivel. Pictures of people who grace my life. Pictures of myself. Pictures of things which have no name. Hypocrisy. Proverbial blood letting. Liberation. A quiet voice calling out to no one.
It all boils down to the synopsis of a page I once tore free from magazine bind. Faded blue, a box sketched at midpoint. Bold, white italics proclaiming: All mistakes are forgiven in here. I had hung it over my bed. I would stare at it for long duration. It was both my relief and my envy. This is my box. My drama. My icarian crutch. I'm here to impress no one.
What you should expect to find within my journal. Rants, befuddled rambling, and poetic drivel. Pictures of people who grace my life. Pictures of myself. Pictures of things which have no name. Hypocrisy. Proverbial blood letting. Liberation. A quiet voice calling out to no one.
It all boils down to the synopsis of a page I once tore free from magazine bind. Faded blue, a box sketched at midpoint. Bold, white italics proclaiming: All mistakes are forgiven in here. I had hung it over my bed. I would stare at it for long duration. It was both my relief and my envy. This is my box. My drama. My icarian crutch. I'm here to impress no one.
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