I'm confused, but then that's nothing new. I suppose I'm just letting this confusion, my own ignorance, and several other things get to me that I always push away. I have a question to pose to anyone who comes across this journal that gives half a damn: why do you make art? Why does anyone draw, paint, write, sing, act, etc.? Why do we all feel the need to pour our souls, our intangible, unfathomable selves into a physical medium? Some men might think they have the answer to that question, at least on a personal level. I once did; shit, I've had several different answers to that at many times throughout my short, yet eternal personal history. I'm lost now, and could honestly use some guidance, or a hand to pull me along, or even some acknowledgment that someone else has been here before. I know it's stupid to go ahead and put all this online, where I hardly know anyone, and it may seem like a cry for attention. But it's theraputic for me; I guess it might be the knowledge that someone else may stumble upon it, unlike an actual journal. I'm just struggling now, apparently; but then again, what 18-year-old isn't in some way? I hardly ever cry, and I know it's unhealthy, but I'm crying more often now. I hate it. I need it. But I hate it. And I just don't know anymore, as if I ever did. I feel tired, but I don't know what of. I could use something, but I don't know what. I don't fucking know.

Rules of tag-

- Post these rules.

- Each tagged person must post 8 things about themselves on their journal.

- At the end you have to choose 8 people to tag, and post their icons on the same journal.

- Go to their page and send a message saying you tagged them.

- No tag-backs.

Shit about me:
1. I am only 17.

2. I wish I had my long-and by long, I mean half way down my back-hair back.

3. I like to act, but I don't think I'm any good and have only been a part of a handful of my school's shows.

4. I cannot understand or comprehend Japanese culture or that nation's mentality.

5. I bought my first real comic book at the age of 15.

6. I am ecclectic in my religious beliefs and hate the label of 'neo-pagan'.

7. I broke someone's arm in a moshpit at Earthday Birthday 14

8. I tend to ask a lot of pointless questions; i.e., "Who do you think would win in a fight...?"

Tagging:
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Alright, first of all I need to clarify that I am a Green Bay Packers fan first and foremost. But I like the Steelers, they're like my second team. I was pissed when Arizona beat the Eagles, because I've honestly been wanting to see Pennsylvania in the Super Bowl-one of the holidays I hold sacred each year. But damn, I have to say I it is awesome that Pittsburg won! Their sixth, by the way-RECORD!!! The game was fun to watch, phenomenal, and very odd and suspensful with all the close calls and penalties. I am relieved and exstatic that the Steelers won, and now, for the first time in five days I will be getting some sleep.

Well, Merry Samhain to all-and a happy Halloween to some. It's my favorite holiday of the year, for now it is the new year! It's a wonderful thing indeed! I will submit a poem on either this day, or the wiccan year as a whole, but it will have to wait until tomorrow. Blessing be to all out there in the DA community!

Today a lover of my good friend perished. It is through all my experiences-internal and external-since I'd found out that this epiphany, as it were, was born. I use the term epiphany lightly, considering I've always known. I discovered that notions such as empathy, nobility, morality, and love are nothing more than shallow concepts existing in a superficial realm along with the idea of perfection. Also, there is no light at the end of our tunnel, only more tunnel. We tread through shit with no hopes of or ability to leaving it all behind. We trudge through the shit, only to grow weary, fall, and let said shit overcome us. That being said: a man begins foolish, helpless, weak, and feable of both mind and body; and in the end he winds up just as foolish, helpless, weak, and feable as in the beginning. Thus, only the beginning and the end are of any "value" in this existance and all of the middle, all the action, inaction, speech, thought, life, and existance in between is worthless. You can neither help nor hinder your fate, nor the fate of this world. Note now that I do not even so much as attempt to stand above this world and judge it, but rather sit in the filth among my fellow desperate and dying sinners and damn us all to what we all know we deserve. That makes me just as much a hypocrite as anyone. For this world is one that nutures hypocrisy and loathing, and two-facedness. To the world your hopes, fears, desires, faith, beliefs, all that you love mean nothing; all with piss on what you've got and then will smack it all out of your hands. Then what do we do? We turn right around and continue the chain, destroying someone else. I also learned that honesty is guilt; only if, however, he who hears the honesty has a "heart". What now? How now? Why now? Why ever? It's these questions I pose to all of existance, questions posed by countless before me. Down in my subconscience I know, as did all those who asked, that I will never recieve a response.