I'm feeling apathetic, lazy, and genuinely disinterested.
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:32pm
Thread Topic: I'm feeling apathetic, lazy, and genuinely disinterested.
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*Write
Not right. -
I really do not feel that children themselves have changed any more than a more ready supply of information would change them. So in other words, given situations that require preconceived notions, our generation have not changed substantially from any generation in the past few hundred years.
Where the difference arises is in the diversity of upbringings, and the methods by which a child is taught. I feel that while Technology is a beautiful tool for raising children and for educating them, that it should not take away from the parents actually raising their children. We are a society built on fear of our own children. Parents who do nothing wrong, live in a society that silently judges them and waits for them to screw up. At least on the father's perspective. As for the children themselves, I feel that upbringing is a key role in understanding them before we judge them. A child is only as well or as poor as the parents that raised them. -
I absolutely agree.You have quite a way with words.I'd probably say the same thing,just in a less intellectual way.
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As for the rain, the rain seems to drone on like a constant hum in the back of my numbing brain. The only thing that keeps me awake right now is the water on my face. It's warm but cools in the breeze, leaving a silent ache through my bones.
I check the clock. 1:14 AM.
1 am is for the poets who can't sleep because their minds are alive with words for someone who's not there.
For the alcoholics drinking themselves into amnesia to forget someone who left.
1 AM is not for the lovers asleep in each other's arms.
It is for the lonely, the ones who are in love with the loved but are not loved in return.Inspiring words. I wish I'd wrote them.
But none the less, that's why I'm drinking. Bitter, burning fire that stings as it settles into the knots in my stomach. Probably contributing to the numbness that's slowly taking over my brain. I keep telling myself that alcohol is a poison and asking why I keep drinking. Then the little voice of reason reminds me that there are things in me that I need to kill.
I know the easy way to do that. The easy way would be to swallow a handful of pills, finish this bottle and go to sleep. But dying requires motivation. That's the sad parody that has claimed my life. I'm not motivated for anything anymore. Not life, and not death. Only to sit here and watch the rain fall, and fill another glass of my poison. It's warm but cools in the breeze, leaving a silent ache through my bones. f--- it. -
That was beautiful. Thank you.
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No problem.
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Well I guess I'm done here...
Goodnight.
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