Colby Miller : Blog

I’m so bored and disillusioned with everything that I am doing right now. I’m so stagnant that I’m getting sick and losing sleep. I’m not using any of my energy.

I’ve decided that this can’t go on any longer. I’m going insane.

I’ve often said that I thought the creation of art was completely divine, that I had been subject to some divine process of channelling some unseeable force’s vision. There is something romantic about that. 

I’m not sure if it’s true. 

I find myself studying more, reading more, and listening more. I’ve found two sides to everything, and I keep straying pessimistically. 

Everybody has a movement.

It’s not surprising how hypocritical everything turns out being, as I’ve found hypocrisy within myself. I feel we’re more inclined to choose convenience. Convenient decisions, knowledge, and ideas.

I don’t know. I’m not feeling this right now.

I want so badly to delete my social networks. I’m over it, again.

inappropriatestarches:

ugh can people please stop pretending that reading is automatically more intellectual and sophisticated?

movies and television can be just as equally stimulating and poignant as a book

one method of storytelling is not automatically better than the other

One time in elementary school, my teacher separated the classroom into three different areas. The first was “strongly agree”, the second was “strongly disagree”, and the third was “indifferent”. She then asked a series of questions, and we answered by placing ourselves into whichever area represented our answer best.

One of the questions was, “Do movies cause you to have less creativity and imagination than books?” Mostly everyone went to the “strongly agree” area. A couple of students went to the “indifferent” section, and I was the only one in the “strongly disagree” area.

The teacher then asked me, “how do movies give you more creativity or imagination?”

I argued that movies allowed someone to enter a different world visually and audibly and that they are equally and sometimes more stimulating than a book.

She argued that movies take away from imagination, and while reading is intelligent, watching movies or television is not. She disregarded film as an art form completely. No matter how much I argued, she wouldn’t budge and just kept telling me that I was wrong.

I don’t really know how I was wrong when the answer was completely subjective. But that was most of my education. Teachers telling me that I was wrong and frowning upon creative or unique thinking. School turns you into a zombie. But that’s not really what this is about. I just wanted to share that anecdote.

(Source: messrspadfoot)

silence

I step off of the plane, anxious for the long awaited reunion with my friends, family, and lover. My feet are sore from sitting too much on the long flight, and I have a pounding headache. The headache shouldn’t last much longer though, seeing as I popped three aspirins in the airplane’s bathroom two hours before landing.

The terminal is empty, and my friends and family are nowhere to be seen. I have to go outside to meet them. I first walk into the nearest restroom and drop my bag underneath the sink.

Splashing my face with water I stare at my face for a prolonged amount of time, for the first time in a while. I have bags under my eyes, my hair is too short, I’ve shaved recently, and my face is wet. I dry it off using some paper towels and quickly leave the bathroom. My face is too much to handle right now, after all I’ve been through.

I make my way down the escalator and into customs. The line is short, thank goodness, the last thing I need is more waiting. I watch as each person makes their way through customs and I pray they don’t ask me too many questions about what is in my luggage. Finally, it’s my turn.

The scene cuts to a shot of my friends, Chris Racadio, Chris Ehorn, David Blaustein, and my lover, Damara. Each of them has changed dramatically. Chris Ehorn is married with three kids, Chris Racadio almost has a mustache, David Blaustein is a millionaire, and Damara wears lots of dresses and has her hair up. Chris E. is sitting in the driver seat of an older model Mustang. It is really cool looking. David is outside of the car, leaning against the hood. He nervously moves a toothpick around in his mouth. Suddenly, he spots me through his sunglasses coming down the escalator.

“Hey guys! Here he comes!”, David says.

Chris Ehorn starts the car, and checks his mirror to make sure nobody followed them to the airport.

I come through the front doors of the terminal and drop my bag next to the Mustang.

“David! Long time, no see. How’s the business?” I ask, immediately.

“It’s good. Do you have everything?” David responds.

“Of course. Where is Damara?” I say, looking around for her.

David points to the back seat of the cool Mustang. I kneel down a bit to look into the back seat. Damara waves at me in a really cute way.

I throw my bags into the trunk of the car and get into the back seat. David sits next to me. I look Damara in the eyes and say, “I’m not sure these belong to me”.

“David needs a girl”, she replies.

I look a lot like George Clooney for a second, but then it goes away.

We start driving out of the airport and the song “The Boys Are Back In Town” starts playing out of the sky, starting a huge panic across Los Angeles. It doesn’t affect us, though.

Once we exit the airport, a car with two strong guys in it starts to follow us. Everything fades to black.

THE END

Ferberber was derbing on the berberder and fernd a gernd. He serd, “I FEERRRB You”. Gerberder rerberded and berbed with a derbious terb perber. Ferberber was serberted. 

Ferberber derdnt gerb urp. He fernd a rurse. Berbed it to Gerberder and serbed her ferb. He herd ser merch ferb. She ferbed him back. They said, “I ferb you”.

Gerberder and ferberder gert merd in a bert.

tumblr is lame. facebook is fake. twitter is too accessible. 

i could sit here and pretend that all of this makes me happy but in the end all i want is sincerity 

writing writing

i am bored with this now

the internet is a tool made for insecure people to constantly re-affirm their existence, and to boost their self confidence. it’s so disgustingly twisted and fake. it’s a waste of time. anything good that could come from the internet is completely over shadowed by the personality killing equation it has become. it’s a quick fix for satisfaction. it allows you to waste your time with people who don’t matter, while neglecting people who do. it ruins your attention span and cheapens your relationships. it’s stupid. it’s vile.