Freedom is Life's Greatest Lie

       I don't believe in freedom, it's a dream that just won't happen in reality. It's a label. What is free exactly? Is it the core being of ourselves, open to everything and the will of speech? Or is freedom a vice upon itself because there is no such thing as freedom? Freedom, the lie everyone dreams of and some believe in.
       There is a theory from Pierre Simon Laplace, A Philosophical Essay on Probabilities about how the past and the laws of nature lead us to our already predetermined futures. He's arguing that we have free will, and in my opinion I believe free will is like everyone's own personal freedom. So I don't exactly agree with him. Why isn't it just will, why does it have to be free will? I believe in someone having a will, a set path and all, but free will is questionable, and I don't believe in it. Like I don't believe in freedom. Within the three major positions of the free will debate (Compatibility, Libertarianism, and Hard Determinism) I'm somewhere in between Libertarian and Had Determinism. That scale tends to remind me of the political scale a little though, just from a different view point and topic.
       Some think it's necessary to be ethical, some believe determinism is what you were going to do anyway, and some moral philosopher's get frustrated here on all of these topics. This is a window into my thoughts and opinions.
       First and second-order desires; first order desires are when we desire something, our second-order desires are something we desire about our desires. An example would be someone who self harms and they desire to harm themselves, while also desiring to not want to harm themselves.

Shout Outs

+Mimi Benson We need to hang out GURL, but we have a day planned, so we got this covered!
+Lucas Dunster I haven't seen you in forever!
+Kurai Atonitsuka Crossbred, I'll help out on it some more send meh a link :)

I'd add more but I got to go, see ya'll soon biyas!

Hey guys!
So I'm learning a cool code, the code of vampires, it's pretty cool, if any of ya'll out there know it hit me up bro! (Not sex, but like, message me)
Yeah, ya'll perves out there :P (*cough*Andrew*cough*)
So, I'm also starting a band, it's going to be cool, We're probably going to be a rock band following the style of BVB not as copy cats but admirers :)
Murp :3

Knives and Pens - Black Veil Brides: Breakdown

                                                               "Knives And Pens"

Alone at last we can sin and fight.
And I've lost all faith in this blurring light,
(Stay right here we can change our plight.
Storming through this despite what's right.)

One final fight for this tonight.
Whoa-oh-oh
With knives and pens we made our plight.

Lay your heart down, the end's in sight.
Conscience begs for you to do what's right.
(Everyday it's still the same dull knife,
Stab right through and justify your pride.)

One final fight for this tonight.
Whoa-oh-oh
With knives and pens we made our plight.
Whoa-oh-oh

Well I can't go on without your love that you lost, you never held on.
(We tried our best. Turn out the light. Turn out the light!)

One final fight for this tonight.
Whoa-oh-oh
With knives and pens we made our plight.
Whoa-oh-oh

Well I can't go on without your love that you lost, you never held on.
(We tried our best. Turn out the light. Turn out the light!)

We can fail or we can shine. We can cut, we can stay fine, it's all about choices, and how they will effect our lives. Our final fight is with ourselves and if we think we've lived life right.

You can cut or you can write.

Everyone out there that cuts, that thinks about suicide, that just hates themself in general, depression, I could go on all day, you are beautiful, you are one of a kind, you are love. I don't believe you're useless, hopeless, anything less, you are you and thats enough for me, I am here for you all. I am your friend. You are not alone, you have never been alone.

Wow

I just realized the most viewed post on my blog is the one declaring my faux lesbianism. I feel so bad now, like really, I'm sorry you guys

A Journal Entry

I wrote this yesterday, the book I'm talking about is "I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings" By Maya Angelou, enjoy

I am one of many names.

I am unidentified, or at least, that’s one of my names.

I am female as people would like to call me.

But, I feel as if gender should not matter to me anymore.

I am but caught in the middle of the stereotypical world of gender.

Of course, I would label myself with so many of the titles I wish to strip myself of.

I have so many names because I feel as if my name is a curse to me, so I recreate myself.

“You shouldn’t speak, your words are pointless, meaningless” one of the many bullies of my past would say, with a slap to the face or a rough bump to the shoulder.

Many adults wouldn’t think of those as much, they’d blame it on the victim.

And at this point, I agree.

“You’re so ugly, how is it even possible?” Another would say, a few hours later I would look in the mirror and cry at why I was given these features.

“And god loves each and every one of you…” many people at church would preach, but there would be me sitting in the crowd, doubting every single word.

I am trying to free myself of these labels, but find that there is no way, because I am bound to them.

I feel as if they are joined to my being. These cursed labels ripping me apart piece by piece.

I like to think I am strong, and by that I’ve grown a bit of an ego. I don’t like to fail. Anything lower than perfect is unacceptable.

I have weekly questions I answer to my therapist in a journal that are supposed to help me, but really, it’s just something to do to ignore the void in my chest where a deep darkness dwells, reminding me of my many imperfections and idiotic moves.

I find myself, at night, replaying scenarios in my mind that have happened wishing I could go back in time and say what I really meant and felt.

I often give up my own happiness to feed someone else’s. I feel as if I need to make others happy because they deserve more than I do.

I keep telling myself to grow a backbone.

I started cutting in November because I wanted a permanent reminder that I can never be perfect and that I should try not to be, It went further than that to the extent that I cannot give you a true reason I did that.

I often think myself into bad moods, or at least, that’s what the depression quotes tell you. What they don’t say is that sometimes you feel you have no choice but surrender.

I started writing this because I thought I could write a book as good as Maya Angelou’s, I now realize that I was wrong and that I’m going to get in trouble for not really doing schoolwork.

I feel close to Maya in the book I’m assigned to read in chapters thirteen and fourteen because she went mute because she felt as if she was as bad as the devil and hated by god. I can understand where she’s coming from.

I stop my sentences in the middle of saying them because I feel like no one will feel like they matter, a friend pointed that out today.

I am writing right now like this because I feel like I need to get this out.

I feel cried out. From the days I was caused pain.

I try my best in school because I don’t want to be the failure everyone said I would be.

I get lost in my fantasies because I feel like any world other than here is better.

I just realized this writing is kind of poetic and dark, yet random.

I love it when my friends give me compliments, because I only believe it when others say it, and I know them well.

I hate that I can’t hang out with my guy friends cause I feel less fake around them and I feel more safe and “at home” as one would say.

I found my number one reason to live and I feel happy about it, though I doubt I can ever get any closer than I am now to him.

I hate that I can’t have more freedom, though I also feel spoiled because others don’t have as much freedom as me.

I love chocolate.

I love my hair when it’s dyed.

I feel like being emo would help others realize that I’m my own person, and that being free and okay within yourself is me.

I know that last sentence sounded weird but it makes sense to me.

I feel sad that I can’t go to the mall with my friends without an adult practically holding our hands.

I hate that adults don’t understand us teens.

I wish I could go to skating without the drama of having my mom bug me on what happened and if I’m emotionally stressed.

I wish I had a job so I had money so I could move out and live a little bit more.

I hate that no one really tries to get to know me.

I love those simple moments when I know It’s going to be alright and that my cutie can protect me.

I do realize my cutie isn’t mine.

That makes me sad.

I feel as if being dead would be easier, but then I realize I’d be leaving my cutie and my friends and family.

I wish I had a family of my own.

I want to have a bright place in this world.

I want to keep others safe in this world.

I realize that I’m only fifteen and can’t do anything at this age. It’s a cold and painful realization.

I smile softly when I see those cute couples and know how they’re so in love, but then I frown because I’m not sure I’ll ever have that.

I’m scared to start a relationship because I could get hurt.

I am angry at myself that now that I notice my friends annoying habits that I can’t ignore them.

I love how my cutie laughs and smiles when I say the stupidest thing.

I love the way the sun shines in the morning and reminds you that it’s a brand new day.

I love fire.

Fire is a beauty all on it’s own.

The sense of smell is magic.

I love how one little scent can be a real big pick me up.

I love how Niall Horan’s accent is so beautiful and his laugh is so infectious.

I hate how people are so judgmental and hurtful.

Where I’m From

By: Natalie Partna

I am from books,

from mythology and fanfiction.

I am from the imaginary world;

Mythology, folk tales,

dreams.

I am from nature,

the oak tree, the weeping willow.

I am from music and it's

poetry,

from country to screamo.

I am from the deepest depths of the heart

and the softest velvet of the soul,

from poetic words,

and love.

I am from sadness,

and from tears.

I am from deafening silence,

where words scream

trying to escape me,

from a world where words can be weapons,

from the pain of the truth.

I am from tears,

the ones everyone else cries,

the only one,

still trying to act strong,

okay.

I am from the darkness,

sadness of the light.

I am from the fear,

the cold truth,

the coldness of our world.

I am from the earth,

the green grass to the majestic mountains.

From the confines of my dark room,

the home of me.

I am from superheroes and humans,

mutants alike.

I am from magick and life.

I am from pain and sorrow,

from the past days.

I am from the beginning of time,

to the furthest point in the future.

From happiness,

to sad.

From old times,

to glad.

I am from myself,

I am of myself.

I am strength, (or at least I'd like to think so)

from pain and hurt.

I am from being thrown every which way,

near tears of life at the end of the day.

This is who I am.

This is where I'm from.

This is from history.

This is from life.

This is me.