*✩⁺˚(₀◕‿◕₀)づ*✩⁺˚

I wish, just for once, that I could hoist myself into the water: chained to an immovable weight, and simply being dragged into the nothingness of the deep. I wish I could see the light vanish from my sight as the cold gripping hands of the ocean depths pulled me deeper still. I wish I could feel the weight of the world continue to crush my lungs; my last breath of survival dissipating away as the bubbles float away to the surface. I wish I could experience the feeling of lifelessness, that indispensable emotion of non-life. Something that could never truly happen in my life-time, but something that has only tempted my palate for so many years of existence. And in that moment of motionless being, as the very fate of my life was to disappear forever into the past, someone saves me. Someone from the great above comes to relinquish me of my duties, to save me of my obligations. I wish that someone would sacrifice all they had to show me that there was always more than just living for yourself... 

And yet maybe the answer to my salvation has been staring me in the face for as long as I could possible imagine. Maybe the saviors have always been right where I needed them; I just never had the mind-sight to notice they were always around just in case things went wrong. Even though I know my mind can tend to be, at some points in time, unreasonable; I should always remind myself that the ideas that float around my mind are not the truths of the world nor do they have to become the words of my mouth of the actions of my fist. 

Come on Florence & The Machine; strike some genuine inspiration so I can be off with this irresistible urge of writers angst. I was just thinking about how much I don't really like to talk to other people about just completely random shit; and how in effect I just end up talking to myself about it. In all honestly, I've probably spoken to myself about as much or even more than I have to other human beings. Shamelessly I can say, I can live with those facts. Majority of people do very little for me to begin with, let alone should I try to invest myself in producing any sort of meaningful conversations in which I would receive knowledge/insight/wisdom greater that what I would contribute. Because for the most part, an outcome such as that is indefinitely rare or just infinitely impossible. Do I think I'm weird for talking to myself? I don't know, do you think it's weird that you'll never meet me in real but you're learning more about me than most of the people I see on a daily basis?

But there was definitely some friction that ignited sparks when I went out to go see this movie. And it wasn't even the movie itself in most cases. Granted, it was a beautifully directed film, certainly top-class acting and the like, but I couldn't help but feel that there was a much greater substance that was pulling me through the film... Perhaps it's almost as if this film was the first time I ever made the real-life connection between film-making and reality. Because of the nature of the film, coupled with the past events that have recently taken place, there's a large grey area now present in the dimension of fact and fiction, of dreams and reality. It's become an almost real-life situation. And in most all cases, I don't even know if I find it scary to be honest, I somewhat find it invigorating.

I've felt that for so long my life has just been this completely artificial existence. It's almost as if everything that I've ever experienced in my life has just been so distant and so disconnected from all the other parts in the series. I'm not really sure what I'm even asking for, but I guess I just wish that for once in my life I had something that felt real.

The thing about anything else in life, essentially anything you try to achieve; is a goal. Everything is first an idea, then placed into execution, then with proper planning and determination, it finally becomes a completed goal. I just feel like for the longest time all of these goals in my life have been all for nothing. And all the goals that I will continue to do in life will remain seemingly pointless without any true subsistence or meaning. It's not that I feel depressed or hopeless... I just feel like how much longer will I have to go through with the kind of life that I'm living until I finally reach a point where everything finally comes to life before my eyes? It's been such a "lifeless" existence at some points, and it's become harder and harder to understand the reason of pushing on when there will never be a worth while goal for me in the end.

Whenever people ask me about my tattoo, it’s always so hard to describe it in just a few words, or even a few sentences. There’s so much hidden meaning and emotion behind what each part of the tattoo means to me alone; and then even more meaning when they are together as one.

But I figure since I’ve never really divulged into the meaning of my tattoo in-depth, what better time for that than right now?

So true, I may have decided to get both the arrow and double infinity at the same time, but each of them have individual meaning when they're not thought of as together.

The reason as to why I got this tattoo was about a year ago; during that time I was struggling with some major depression in my life and generally all around me (I’m still struggling now, but my tattoo is a constant reminder to keep going). So I needed something in my life that would act as a sign, something that would help/guide me to get out of whatever deep rut of depression I was going through at the time.

And when I stumbled across the tattoo design one day, I made an immediate connection; I knew for sure that was what I wanted my sign to be. It spoke to me on such an intangible level of communication that there was no way I could reply without doing what I did next, getting it as a tattoo. Everyone in life is going through some sort of struggle; they're always searching for some fundamental meaning in life that will keep them going till they can't go anymore, and I think in some aspects that's what tattoos mean to people, just like my tattoo means to me. It's a mark, it's a scar, it's a reminder. It's a monument of life that reminds me what I've been through, and what I'm capable of accomplishing from here on out.