Why I Hate when people criticize “The Media”

It’s so easy to criticize the media, Hollywood, movies, the theatre. We love to judge the things others do. It’s so easy to look over there, and tell them how wrong they are. Funny how we don’t realize the media is just an imitation of us.

Punch Bowl

I remember the first time I got punched in the face as a kid. I definitely deserved it.

Inspiration is a Fickle Lover

I leave a lot of these posts prescheduled.

There are days when I’m just inspired as fuck (truly this is the only way to describe it). Where my fingers won’t calm on the keyboard. then there are days where I stare at the screen for 30 minutes in frustration and despair.

So I use my fully fueled days wisely. I scatter my posts throughout the months, space them out to make you think I am constantly visited by inspiration, when in fact she only decides to drop by on few occasions. At least when she does, she comes with an appetite. I just do my best to have all the tools handy to be able to feed her, and yet still have sustenance for when she is gone.

I also wonder what would happen if I died. These posts might continue for a short while. I could talk to you from beyond the grave in a sense. I wonder who would see that as comforting and who would see that as tragic. I’d like to think most would see the latter, but who’s to say?

Be Prepared

It’s always at night, isn’t it? When shame graces you with its weight in bricks. When all of the moments that made you sweat or cringe, all of the things you left undone, decide to visit you just before you doze off into slumber.

It’s always at your weakest that you’re forced to fight your demons.

I suppose that’s all I have to say about that.

Hunger

Constant unforgiving hunger.  Incessant even when I’m full. So long as there is food around I can’t ignore it. I either think about eating it or the fact that I shouldn’t.

I’ve always been like this, for as long as I can remember. Never satisfied. Always looking for more.

It comes out worst when I drink. It won’t stop. There’s no more room, but there’s all this food left, and if it’s not eaten it will spoil.

While others starve and you can do nothing, and so you eat their portion to avoid the waste.

Maybe the answer is to reverse it. Starve yourself. Dive into their world, taking only your fair share, less even of you can. I guess I hsould be grateful I can choose between the two.

There are moments of clarity. Small brief moments of satiation. Neither deprived nor overflowing where the thoughts can wander away from the greed and obsession. Away from the crucial yet base instinct of survival. Away from the primitive grunts that populate the mind.

And just like that I realize I haven’t been hungry for a while. The balance reaches its peak. And once again I go, down into the pit of hunger.

How fortunate I am, that I can choose my moments and types of hunger.