Thinking and Writing

My first time writing, or trying :P its pretty random but its directly from the head

 

So, it turns out that we, as in confused creatures with no answers, always live for the thrill of it. I can't say why, but that's just how it is. I personally think its fun as f**k, but maybe irresponsible? But do we need responsibilities to begin with? Does that help us keep some sort of made up or invisible balance in our life, which then again could be non-sense? I don't know which direction I am heading in, I guess I am just writing for the thrill of it. I guess I just have some s**t to spit out and a computer seems like a logical enough place to put it. I have been thinking of a lot of s**t lately, it sometimes almost drives me nuts. Like all of these thoughts keep creeping into my head, like the fact that I'm actually writing all this down in my computer is a perfect example of one of these reoccurring abstract ideas. I mean, I have always wanted to write something that would seem at least worthwhile, but how could I do that, I'm just some 19yrs old that happens to be studying philosophy, one of the most confusing yet weirdly soothing things that I have ever done. I have been going to French school my whole life, but I've never taken an interest in philosophy, even after that Sophie's world book that I barely read. I guess its just my deep unknown passion for law and to once, maybe, evolve into some successful lawyer that makes a lot of money. That's probably so much harder then I expect it to be, but I some how keep denying it. Oh well. And writing? Where did that weird idea come from? Maybe from that CaliforniaCation show that I like, where the main guy Hank bones the finest ladies that men could lay there eyes on. I mean it is based on a true story, but has been fiddled with, fiddled in a way where it produces a some what false image of what reality (if there is a reality) really is. I mean if that f*****g show is dead on with our reality (?) then wow! I truly, to the deepest point of my heart, envy Hank Moody. As a kid, or I guess I should say young boy, because I clearly still feel like a kid, I would have never seen myself sitting on this desk with a cup of green tea, writing this s**t down, or typing it for that matter. I don't think I would call this my journal or diary, or what ever the hell people like calling it, its more like my time to let all of this s**t out of my head that I have been wondering about all day, or my whole life (at least the most recent part of it). This writing thing feels pretty releasing, its almost similar to that soothing feeling that I get from philosophy, but a little different, different in a way that I cant fully explain, at least for right now, but maybe one of these days to come, or years, or never. But, who the f**k cares! I guess I will just write! I might not even write after this, because I could get bored of it or just forget about it and direct myself to something else that will end up having the same results as this writing thing. This is why I say f**k it! I can only do what I can.

Author's Note

I hope its not to random, I do spill out a bunch of random thoughts so i know it is, but I hope you find it interesting haha...there is a first for everything!