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This diary entry is written by ‹Johnny Segment›. ( View all entries )
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what is this omgCategory: (general)
Sunday, 12 September 2010
04:19:00 PM (GMT)
I cannot quell this excitement. It's becoming ridiculous, to play the same songs again and again and to still smile involuntarily at the opening bars; to feel the urge to jump and shout when it swells inside me and I can do nothing to stop it. I can't contain this, it's filling me up again and again and again, an exhaustive amount of thrills. I have never been this happy. I've never been so happy that I can't even try to disguise it, I'm smiling like a creeper when I'm walking down the street and I'm trying so hard not to start dancing when 'Nowhere Fast' comes on my ipod. I fucking hate dancing and I just want to dance dance dance. This is surreal. It's not dissimilar to those wonderful dreams that are so real that when I wake up I am filled with disgust that my mind could create something so incredible only to take it away again. But I'm not dreaming and I'm so fucking happy, I can't believe it. I've been trying to think of a good analogy for this but I have been unsucessful so I'll use a phrase I just texted to India.
I want to be an explosion
India and I, we're going to be a fucking explosion, I tell you. We're going to explode. We shall be dangerously happy and we shall be ever more blind and oblivious. And Joe, I'm so fucking happy for Joe and his infatuation. Joe will be an explosion also, we shall all explode and it'll be too fast and we shan't be able to contain it and it could be awful but it will be fantastic. You don't have to be underwater, only the onions do.
Last edited: 12 September 2010

likeaskeletonkey says:   12 September 2010   656701  
This is like the ninth. What you are feeling at the moment, this is
like my ninth. I could barely sit still, I have to pivot and frolic
and sigh and grin and if necessary squeal of joy. I am unaware of
every single source to this bliss, but I know a few, and seeing how
happy you are leaves me so joyous as well. It feels like I could be an
intermittent star, but then it grows into a wide beam of bright,
bright, bright light that spans for all eternity. God fucking Christ,
focus on pursuing this. Pursue this. This. What even, this bombshell
of excitement. And it might be rushing all too much, but why should
you control something so lovely? For once, you feel at complete ease
with that giddiness, that happiness. Explode. Explode and just you
wait until I explode a few constellations away from you, and India,
and Joe. You just wait.

The end killed me, omg, stop.
likeaskeletonkey says:   12 September 2010   481495  
*I can barely.
‹Johnny Segment› says:   12 September 2010   301831  
That is it exactly, the frolicking and sighng and grinning and
squealing. Frolicking, oh lord, it has so much relevance to
everything. I adore that word, it's so good at describing the way I
feel. I shall focus on this, I can't help but. It's fucking consuming
me and it's wonderful. It's far too fast and it's the best thing ever,
I've never moved this fast. Yes, we'll all explode. You and I and
India and Joe, we'll all explode into fabulous nebulae and make a path
for stars in our wake.
Space analogies are always good.

No, I will never stop. It's too much. 
likeaskeletonkey says:   12 September 2010   196844  
I am bouncing on my seat, oh my god. *Sighing. Yes, yes, yes.
Frolicking. I adore that word. And pirouetting. And ugh, everything.
It's so silly, but at the same time, so very necessary. Oh! You said
you adored that word! I hadn't read it until I replied! I like to
reply sentence per sentence so the emotion remains. 8''B Let it
consume you, Jess, really, let it inhale you and exhale you like it
breathed you, and you were that air. Does it not feel like you are
travelling from galaxy to galaxy as it goes? One day, it's this. The
other day, it's that. But always so cheery, always so lively. So much
goddamn life. I just want to grab every ounce of possibility
and write it everywhere, because each and every time this occurs, it
betters itself. We'll create so much nebulae that they will morph
their photographs with our faces instead of natural starlets.
Space analogies make you wander.

But I'm afraid of the underwater.
‹Johnny Segment› says :   12 September 2010   921124  
Frolicking is such a perfect word, it reminds me of wild flowers and
skipping down a gravel drive. Oh this really is too much. I am air and
I'm being breathed and I'm travelling from lungs to atmosphere to new
lungs. It's exhilerating, you've described it so perfectly, Laney.
Being breathed. Galaxy to galaxy, lungs to lungs. And really it's just
day after day after day but you're right, there's suddenly so much
life. Too much life to fill up a day so it's filling up inside of us.
Possibility is everything. It's so wonderful. They shall, of course,
we'll be space children and we'll be full of stars and we'll breathe
solar winds. I could carry on forever with the space analogies.

You don't have to be underwater, only the onions do!

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