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kevinobrien's Journal

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Kevin OBrien
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This Is Not An Exit. 2006


In the amount of time it takes for pen to reach paper. An array of thoughts, processes, chemical changes, words, images, sensations, and emotions race through the road maps of the mind. The epicenter of which it all derived could only be influenced on an outside entity. Occasionally weather and light can make ones eyes venture further to reach great heights set forth by expectations. A bump or a nudge possibly a slight breeze will break the path one has chosen.

Focused. Thousands of unseen advantages move at great speeds that reflections may not have caught. Blink, You may have missed it. An eye beneath an eye; let the mind think deeper for a change. Altitude soars, but the bodies still on the ground. Time will tell what the soul entails, Bodies to frail to hoard such wealth of knowing. To young for experiences, which accompany the knowledge, attained.

In this day of age, it is rather unfortunate to be young with such a state of mind. Hard to get by in school with a head full of thoughts; racing, pounding at lightning speeds without pause to let one catch their breathe. Pens and pencils aren’t able to keep up with the pace of things he is trying to mirror onto paper what his mind has been telling him. Once on paper it is garbled and rearranged, out of order. The mind, which purposely repeats things to get it right the second time. Insight is what others want; however the hand moves to slow to tell the stories of the mind verbatim. Though it does the best it can.

The start of future works lay unfinished within notebooks piled into rooms, messenger bags, and under car seats. Scattered ideas found on napkins or torn papers could not wait to make its way onto an anchored piece of paper. They come at a variety of times whether it is on an airplane, train, car, or in other countries. They never seem to cease. Objects passing by will surely spark a thought and immediately be written so it can be remembered. Not to be forgotten and replaced by a new thought, though thoughts flow at any given moment. Occasionally thoughts will be lost in the interstate highways of the brain, to return on a later date. Viewed as fresh, but in other words or a different side of ones opinion.

Future references thought out in advance for later situations or scenarios. A developed theory of mind, Eyes accurate at reading hidden gestures. Seeing what is coming allows relaxation to occur where most would be vulnerable. Aware of the surroundings, Open to change and others feelings, being able to translate mass emotions into words singling out the few or connecting the opposite of individuals. An uncommon trait, Tuned to earths benevolence to control your own malevolence. Down to earth, true. Nature is appreciated, but only to make sense of human emotions.

If one will listen, words will come like oncoming traffic at rush hour. If too much information is retained and no paper relief is found. One will get quite talkative and being silenced is painful yet inevitable. Leaving one alone with mind and conscience without a notebook is punishment enough. If one does not feel that a significant amount of work was not produced, sleep loss will follow.

Beliefs are common, but beliefs are meant to be personal. When you start organizing into a religion or sects. It tends to start looking like a cult, unless you’re part of one. Part of what you say? Yeah you said it! You must have some backbone to your rational thinking though, even if most of it is common sense. You shouldn’t have to be told. Just don’t allow yourself to be caught up in things is all. Ignorance will follow if you follow a set path. Ignorance isn’t good, science could probably prove it. It’s proved everything else. That’s if you believe in that sort of thing.

It’s funny to believe, to be able to at least. Many things separate men from animals at least we like to think that. Even though at times I feel like a god damn animal. Kept in a fence, scolded at till I learn new tricks, then presented a treat. Things laid out in front of us for enjoyment, But daydreaming and staring is frowned upon. Freedom is a lie. An ill conceived thought to hide unreachable heights (unless you’re at the top) due to worldly limitations. Separate but equal although we have all been in a race to prove who’s better. We’re all livestock and flocks herded into spacious skies, fruited plains, purple mountains, and sea to shining sea. Sound Familiar hope so you know the rules, the songs, the pastimes of a corrupted nation.


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