Indulging in the Dramatic and The Potential of Jesus Being a Nutcase (lol, sorry, I just had to)

It smells like Swedish pea soup in my house. I love that smell. I love that soup, and I can't wait until dinner.

"My Immortal" by Evanescence
"Solitude" by Evanescence
"Give Unto Me" by Evanescence
"Field of Innocence" by Evanescence
"Hello by Evanescence" by Evanescence

I am listening to an assortment of Evanescence songs and allowing myself to become properly melancholy. Evanescence is good for that. It's more depressed than angry, at least those that I'm listening. I haven't done this in a long time. It feels good, really, allowing one's self to be depressed and just get it out, though I really have no personal reason. It's just for the feeling, I get. I need to make myself angsty and unhappy, for emotional spectrum, at times. It's like feeding my dramatic soul. It's so poetic of me, lol . . .

I read an article in the newspaper today that says that people who keep journals are more likely to succomb to mental illness. They mentioned Sylvia Plath and Leo Tolstoy.

Then it was like, "But Jesus didn't keep a journal because He never wrote anything down, so He's sane!" and went on to say how we should share our depressions with Him. So I kind of doubt the credibility of the medical aspect of this newspaper article. After all, it was in the religion section. However, then I felt kind of awkward because I said that Jesus could have very well have been perceived to have been insane, because people nowadays who go off and say they're the Son of God get committed-- but Ryan got that Crusader-esque religious voice that you can't contradict (the one that makes me feel awkward when I try arguing rationally about religion), telling me that everyone knew Jesus wasn't just a psycho bum with a mental issue because of the Holy Spirit. That shady Holy Spirit. I mean, I'm all for "feeling" things that aren't rational, but I think the real power in Jesus was his goodness and belief in God. Then again, I have my doubts about his divinity, so that sums it all about up right there, lol.

I don't know how I feel about it, the Trinity, the whole Trinity. Of course, religiously, it doesn't matter what I think about it if it's what is, but considering that it was arbitrary decided to be "what is" at a council 1000 years after Jesus lived, I'm skeptical. That's me, the Agnostic Scholastic. Anyway . . .

For the first time in a very long time, I actually have some idea of what's going on with Alice and Joey-- though I never know the whole thing.

All I think I really can say is I feel bad for the two of them.

Feel bad. That's so pathetic. All I have is my compassion, and you can't even see that. I don't actually do anything, which is damn shitty, or at least feels that way. I don't even SAY anything . . . Monday I sat across from Joey when he was crying and felt awkward and tried looking sympathetic, but what else do you DO? I don't know enough to know anything useful to say. Then Alice looked miserable today in 3rd hour and I knew why for once but instead of dancing around with a penguin hat or shoving chocolate at her and commanding her Lupin-style to eat I just . . . sat.

Did I write it? I don't know. Mika. Who knew? I had it all backwards.

By the way, I wrote a sonnet about you, Nichole.

Indulging in the Dramatic and The Potential of Jesus Being a Nutcase (lol, sorry, I just had to)

It smells like Swedish pea soup in my house. I love that smell. I love that soup, and I can't wait until dinner.

"My Immortal" by Evanescence
"Solitude" by Evanescence
"Give Unto Me" by Evanescence
"Field of Innocence" by Evanescence
"Hello by Evanescence" by Evanescence

I am listening to an assortment of Evanescence songs and allowing myself to become properly melancholy. Evanescence is good for that. It's more depressed than angry, at least those that I'm listening. I haven't done this in a long time. It feels good, really, allowing one's self to be depressed and just get it out, though I really have no personal reason. It's just for the feeling, I get. I need to make myself angsty and unhappy, for emotional spectrum, at times. It's like feeding my dramatic soul. It's so poetic of me, lol . . .

I read an article in the newspaper today that says that people who keep journals are more likely to succomb to mental illness. They mentioned Sylvia Plath and Leo Tolstoy.

Then it was like, "But Jesus didn't keep a journal because He never wrote anything down, so He's sane!" and went on to say how we should share our depressions with Him. So I kind of doubt the credibility of the medical aspect of this newspaper article. After all, it was in the religion section. However, then I felt kind of awkward because I said that Jesus could have very well have been perceived to have been insane, because people nowadays who go off and say they're the Son of God get committed-- but Ryan got that Crusader-esque religious voice that you can't contradict (the one that makes me feel awkward when I try arguing rationally about religion), telling me that everyone knew Jesus wasn't just a psycho bum with a mental issue because of the Holy Spirit. That shady Holy Spirit. I mean, I'm all for "feeling" things that aren't rational, but I think the real power in Jesus was his goodness and belief in God. Then again, I have my doubts about his divinity, so that sums it all about up right there, lol.

I don't know how I feel about it, the Trinity, the whole Trinity. Of course, religiously, it doesn't matter what I think about it if it's what is, but considering that it was arbitrary decided to be "what is" at a council 1000 years after Jesus lived, I'm skeptical. That's me, the Agnostic Scholastic. Anyway . . .

For the first time in a very long time, I actually have some idea of what's going on with Alice and Joey-- though I never know the whole thing.

All I think I really can say is I feel bad for the two of them.

Feel bad. That's so pathetic. All I have is my compassion, and you can't even see that. I don't actually do anything, which is damn shitty, or at least feels that way. I don't even SAY anything . . . Monday I sat across from Joey when he was crying and felt awkward and tried looking sympathetic, but what else do you DO? I don't know enough to know anything useful to say. Then Alice looked miserable today in 3rd hour and I knew why for once but instead of dancing around with a penguin hat or shoving chocolate at her and commanding her Lupin-style to eat I just . . . sat.

Did I write it? I don't know. Mika. Who knew? I had it all backwards.

By the way, I wrote a sonnet about you, Nichole.