Wednesday, March 28, 2012

future happiness



Purpose is where your deep gladness, meets the worlds needs. What makes one happy, might make another miserable. I don't know which is more important, appeasing others, or one's self. It makes me happy, when i make others happy. But happiness is momentary, it never holds out forever. We live day to day trying, striving, dreaming, of future happiness. If you cant stand where you are, how will you be able to stand where you want to be? Future happiness is possible, its not improbable, It's just not realistic either. Realistic goals can be met, future happiness is designed to never be reached. If it were reached, we would be doomed to not want it any longer. Not want that which we sought.You cant do everything, you cannot have everything. You don't get to have your cake and eat it to, if you did, you would no longer strive.

People make mistakes, people grow weary and patience wears thin. We all trip, to error is human. But its never a wasted fall, if you've gained something from it. a lesson, a smile, passion, those things can have negative effects on the emotional state, but it was what you sought then, therefore it wasn't a mistake. Affairs of the heart, and passions are a fickle thing. Unmeasurable, untamed, and are well worth the pain. Finding a counter part to fit perfectly is a life long battle. Having someone there is something we as humans need, its not wrong to seek that, even if you make a mistake. Everything happens for a reason, it forms who we are, and becomes the pavement we walk upon.

Don't define what you are doing, don't let others define what you are doing. Live for the moment, don't blow all your coins on the first machine. Just allow the moment to become you, and you one with it. Don't make it overly complicated, just let the winds carry you where you need to be.

-Jessi James


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Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Eyes wide open, & can't see..



The past is gone, and its not coming back. Normal people embrace change, and continue to look forward; Me? I continue to be facing backwards, arms stretched. I am trying to regress, to a time of security maybe? A time of certainty, and happiness. A way to go back and redo my life. erase the mistakes I've made. Rebel in the family life again. Its not completely selfish, my going back benefits more than just me. My making mistakes, would benefit masses, and people close to me. It may have prevented a lot of terrible goings on, that have occurred present day.
Maybe myself medicating led to this feeling. As if because i numbed myself, and was absent, that i feel like i missed out on my own life; so i am struggling backwards to regain a past i abused. If i knew where that life would have led me, I wouldn't have been trying to escape the life i had then. I was convinced i was miserable then, but my past had nothing (misery-wise) on my present day circumstances.
I have become preoccupied with Death and dying since my OD. i was writing a piece about writers, painters, singers, people of creative means, and their habit to be depressed, and commit suicide, and (or) have drug addiction(s). I began to search, and had to stop the piece because i identified to closely to Sylvia Plath, whom wrote an auto-biography that details her OD on sleeping pills. She separated with her spouse due to infidelity, had yet and another suicide attempt in the car. Years later she feared for her own safety when she was alone, and in the end, she was right. She took her own life at age of 30, by gas from a stove. Leaving bread and milk out for her two small children, whom were sealed in their rooms with a window opened to protect them. She was found the next day, head on a towel in the oven.
Her poetry, although morbid, and depressive, is similar. Her journals published in 2000 are of similar stature to my own. This scares me, i scare me sometimes. But the one difference is, i see no advantage to death, or life. I am feeling dissociative, unrelated to the human kind, and often puzzled as to the point in many things.
Having seen the error of my ways, means i have the power to correct them.
-Jessi James


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Tuesday, March 6, 2012

no comment blurb

I don't feel like talking, i don't feel like the petty picture jokes. i am being told that I'm ungrateful for myself, but people i thought understood me. and its all over some stupid facebook comment, i didn't see, nor have any part in. What i will say is my page Philosophy of a Borderline is based on my writing, its not directly about Borderline Personality Disorder. Although i understand it, and have embraced it, i write about myself and my experiences with it. I started it with a friend with BPD in hopes of getting her creativity involved. Instead, it all winds up ruining a friendship. and ruining my evening. With Flashbacks of December over and over, replayed in my mind. I don't want to lose a friend, but i also, don't need to feel this low, and hurt myself. I am sorry for whatever was said, but again it wasn't me.
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Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Caution: ants on pavement


Grasp my heart with in your hands,
sugar on pavement attracts ants.
massage the shallow heart beats of my wounded heart,
sweet gentle tingles as the ants parade across your body.
Slay my heart with in your hands,
magnifying glass in the sun.
Rejoice as the last beat fades from my heart,
Smirk as the ants number dwindle.
Drop my petrified black heart,
gashing bare feet upon the pavement.
Playfully kicking the petrified shards,
mush the remnants where the lifeless ants bodies Layne.
petrified dust blows, of a heart you once nurtured.

-Jessi J


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Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Vdo Support Dedicated in memory of Debra Jacobs



I came across a group of women, who's hearts all belong to the same man. The man thats tall dark and handsome, the man of many skins, a character acter. I found it odd how close we all got so quickly, and how genuine they were in their care for one another. Any problem and they are all there behind you. Suddenly i realized this wasnt really a group for the actor, Vincent D'onofrio, this was a family of women, united by one common attraction. What was about this man, that brought together all of these women, and myself. How is it possible women who are attracted to the same man, could all get along so well? Why did we all understand eachother beyond words?
Vincent Donofrio "VDO" as the ladies call him was born in 59" to a nice italian family in brooklyn. he stands at six foot four inches. He is called a character actor for the simple fact he as taken a wide veriety of roles, and seems to fit in about any role he does. He really lends himself to the role. His most known roles would be on Full Metal Jacket where he played pvt.Pyle, And Law and Order Criminal intent as det. Robert Goren.


The stories of how the women became part of the group are usually the same. They noticed him in movie, or show, and began to slowly develop a crush on him. Upon looking him up, they came across specific fan's with blogs, and groups online. There is an entire world with in the D'onofrio fans. An entire family of women, who will all be close, sharing every triumph and fail until their dying die.
Personally I have found more support with in this group of fans, than in any other support group i have joined. The women are kind, caring, supportive, and most of all non judgmental. They quickly became part of my everyday routine, not to see Vincent nessisarily, but it like checking in with family. We keep tabs on each other, joke around, share helpful tips, and of course the mutual photo commenting.

Still there must be something to the reason we all get along so well, and it cannot be just the mutual attraction. Vincent has a presentation that suggests he isnt pretty. he has rugged good looks, saying i've been through some rough times, and i need someone who understands me. I know personally, he has this attitude that strikes something familiar in my mind. He stands taller than all of the women in the group, maybe we all seek safety in his arms. I don't think i will ever pin point a reason we all came together, But i am thankful for them everyday. I am especially greatful for having been accepted into the group, and as a facet member i enjoy meeting new ladies just joining the group. I have yet to meet one that has been rude, mean, ugly, lying, stealing, general back stabbing, I hope i never do. Something about the man draws in the best group of women, in my experience.

I originally wrote a piece about this several months ago, but due to computer failures this has been rewritten. It is dedicated in loving memory of Debra Jacobs May she walk with angels guided wings, on the notes of the lords songs. She was born April, 17, 1951 a resident of Sunny Florida, and native of Maryland. She died Feb,13, 2012 of complications from pneumonia. A long standing memory of the Vdo society, and will be missed.


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Friday, February 10, 2012

What am I?



                I will never measure up to the fantasy girl you keep in your minds eye.  Shes beautiful, smart, sexy, and she'd die to be by your side. she's the kind of girl drugs didn't ruin. she's the type of lady whom doesn't get in fist fights, but could handle herself if she did. she's the type of mom, every child needs. she is the kind of wife you seek, when you get home from work she'll rub your feet, and have a 5 course dinner hot and ready. She could never stand the thought of another man Since you tamed her. You're her savor, with out your love and motivation she'd be a goner. You're the gift that keeps on giving - a love like no other, a beautiful daughter, hope for a drug free life with you, and you alone.
                And what am i? you paint her so perfectly in your minds eye, and you've used her left over paints to paint a sloppy, insulting rendition of me. I had to beg, plea, kick and scream just to get that rendition. Yet in this rendition I've become like an old , forgotten, worn, pair shoes that you you keep in the back of the closet. Buried under other forgotten pieces of your life. I'm your in case of emergency shoes, in case your new shoes should be dirty or out of commission. I am there so you feel safe, a safety net, you love catalyst. why choose one pair when you could have both? No sense in that.
                You give good men a bad name, and you give love a run for its money. You are not what you claim to be in any sense of the word. Although you paint her so beautifully, her painting is also only left over paints. Your minds eye wasted all the good paints on an image of yourself. You will never be half the man, you have pictured in your head. Your lies pave the streets you walk on, and your losses are woven into the plant life of the world you surround yourself in. Possibly i am one of those losses, but the way you talk, your world isn't lost with out me. I was nothing but a trial, that you over came.
                Who am I?I am your wife, but only on paper. I am Jessica James. I am the wife you left in the dust, I am the women who stood by your side when we took a vow to love, honor, and obey - Until death do we part. Your right in assuming i did not take those vows seriously. I took those vows, and i shoved them into toilet, i flushed them down into the sewer of all the other failures i would make from that day forth. I may be a lot of things, i may have wronged a lot of ways. I deserve your respect, because i over came the state you left me in. And i will continue to climb, and just like every other addiction, i will over come you. Its just a matter of time, i cant allow you to break my heart anymore than you have already done. I don't deserve it in my present life, and the girl who did deserve it, you killed.  When you said that fantasy in your mind was better than she could aspire to be. Mrs.jack died of an overdose, may her soul haunt your every heart beat. And in the future one day, maybe you will be able to throw those mental paintings out, and see reality.
-Jessi J
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Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Poems




I mind:

Angels and demons lounge together.
one hopes for bad, the other for better.
lying snakes, tempting with grins.
walking next to us, our own skeletons.
lined with dead ends, and hidden doors.
a place where our broken dreams paved the floors.
reality becomes unrealistic, im stuck in a hole.
dig down deep now, i am an emotional mole.
here i am again, lost in my mind.
i find myself stuck here, time after time.
-Jessi J

Death By Kiss:

The trouble is..
You've brought back a memory,
That still hurts deep inside of me.
Locked away..
Unspoken of, in a box.
But you opened it today,
And the memories wash over me.
Suffocating in depth..
A prison of invibility binds me.
My masquerade has broken, like a knife in my heart,
So consumed not a word was spoken.
Why did you come back,
Just to reopen wounds.
And cover the lights in black.
Snuff my candle as i lay,
Awaiting a bitter sweet end.
Anxiously i lay in wait for this day.
Breaking ties, letting go, falling.
As i fall into the abyss.
Like fair romeo lip to lip.
A poision lingers in you, Death by kiss.
-Jessi J

Angel:

Be my angel..
Be my angel of mercy.
Take this pain away.
Memories of yesterday.
Wrap your wings around me.
Hold me tight while you set me free.
Embrace me, Release me.
Tied to tide, Ashes to fire.
Angel please take me higher.
I know you will bare the light.
Grant me my mercy.
Grant me understanding and sight.
Angel, just grant me freedom tonight.
-Jessi J


A list:

my hearts just a whalin' in my chest
as my mind reels with out any rest
I didnt hold you souly responsible
i knew what the end result would be
i just didnt want to think you were capable
excuse me, husband, may i have a minute
to tell you about how you tore me out
pardon me, sir, if i come undone with it
"but we all go a little crazy sometimes"
once i speak my pe4ace will you be able to cope
with out lost dreams, and false hopes
i want to scream obscenities in your face
I want to r4each in your chest and break your heart
i want to turn you on then kick you out
i want to loose it all - all over you
but these are just a list of things i want to do
not because i miss you or that i care
but i wont act them out, cuz im better than you
just a small thought i wanted to share
karma has come and gone by, and ill learn to forgive
but where will you be when we meet again?
-Jessi J


I Want Out:

i smoke these cigarettes, i smoke a pack a day.
people say it will kill me, but ill smoke em anyway.
im trapped in these 4 walls, with no windows or doors NO Way Out,
ive begged and plea'd for help, theres nothing left of me, i WANT OUT.

the depression is darkening and consumin, its taken over my world and life.
til i no longer feel human', reality has become unreal.
the darkness courses through my veins, the pain is damning and my mind unable to heal.
how do i get myself free, my veins course to my heart.
the darkness has taken my future from me, I WANT OUT

one shot turned into a life time, its robbed me of happiness and family, im a prisoner in my own mind.
now my comedy has turned to tragedy.. I WANT OUT!

with all the things in this world, ive found nothing is as it seems. ive got no love from anyone or myself.
the only good ive found is in my dreams, how can something so good be so bad.
one hit has shoved me to me down and again and again, its shocked me to my core and taken all i had.
i didnt think think twice for i let it all go. now days im sorry i let everyone down.
ive begun to feel im trapped in a hole, if i could go back - i'd have left this town.

everyone says my life's gonna kill me, death will not be the reason i change.
death is the only thing to set me free.
free from burdons i bare, free me from this hell i cant overcome..
ILL GET OUT!!!!
this is really old, but i figured it went with the sheme of things lately. do not misunderstand its meaning.
-Jessi J

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Bounce back Apple Jack, Give the Dog A bone, & tell him to go home.



As humans we go through different phases of love, we seek parental love, friend love, romantic love, then our love sight shifts to our children. Raising our children, and suddenly romance isn’t as important.
Children may be resilient, but there is no substitute for a fathers love. A father who deny's thy child the most basic interaction and parental guidance; will rue the day. They will rue the day when that child takes out their wrath, they will also rue the day when they realize that the most magical gift in life has been removed. There is no starting over in life, and you cannot put off till tomorrow things that were due yesterday. By the time you realize what you have missed it will be too late to render. A father who would prefer to waste time on unsustainable miniscule past times such as drugs, alcohol, womanizing, video games, sports; instead of slowing down to enjoy the short childhood of their child, in turn neglects themselves of they own achievement.
                The child will unconsciously cry out, if left untended they will develop psychological disorders; and it’s a safe bet for you to make, that they will seek revenge, consciously or unconsciously. If a child extends their hand to guide, walks step by step by your side, why would anyone deny that? You're stealing the most important thing - their innocence. Innocence only lasts as long as the child is sheltered/ unexposed to the harsh, cold, cruel reality of life/adulthood.
                Adults have an entire lifetime to be hurt, scared, lost, jaded, or broken down. We don’t need to experience that any sooner than we need to. Feed a child’s fantasy, nurture their imagination, protect their senses from toxins, and guard their inexperienced purity, as you would have guarded your own. It's the biggest treasure we're given in life, without purity and innocence i am not sure we as conscious humans, would have the momentum to live a long life.
                Purity is given upon conception, it’s fleeting and fragile. Allowing magic to seem visible, every day is a winding road; adventures hold no bounds, hardships unknown, and dangers untold. The stronger our purity remains, the better chance we have of leading a happy, productive life. This isn’t to say those whom keep intact will always have a better life, just as it’s not to say those whom do not will be incapable. Just a higher success rate is with those whom kept their innocence and purity strong within themselves.
                Children need parental bonds; it’s an important part of development. That does not mean that a single parent cannot raise a strong, resilient child, because they can. Resilience is being able to take a blow, and keep going because you have been distilled with capacity to cope. Feeling confident and sure in your actions, as well as competent in life, in endeavors, And in happiness. A two parent home will not be what saves your child, just as a one parent home will not be what damns your child. Children are subject to significant adversity, or trauma, excessive pressures or stresses; they have to be taught how to deal with the blows as they come, and keep on moving.
                How can you help your child find these skills, and be resilient? First off do not constantly put pressure on yourself, and second guess your initial feeling. You must be a strong influence, even more so for a single parent. Anyone involved in a child’s life, must be an influence you must want distilled in your child. They absorb everything, they hear everything, and they understand far more than one might think. Second, bad things happen, so do not think you have failed because of one bad mistake. The skills come in handy here, because everyone gets behind, or falls down, it’s important for a child to see that you can stand back up, not to deny you fell. Don't ice over the bad, because the bad is real, you don’t want the child to fear any mistake coming. Just allow them to see that it’s not the end of the world, and that tomorrow is a brand-new day.
                Robert Brooks, Ph.D., and Sam Goldstein, Ph.D. have compiled a few things to help you along your journey as a parent. Remember parenting isn’t as simple as it seems here in black in white; don’t get over whelmed by it. Click Here for Further steps outside my blog.

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Saturday, January 28, 2012

Why Do Bad Things Happen? There is a reason.




I swear for just a moment, i caught a glimpse of myself the way i see myself inside. All the things i want to be. Reflecting from a mirror looking at me.

Living alone in this big ole brain is lonely. The image i have created of the perfect me, doesn't seem so perfect when she is starring back at me. If everything went right, every wish came true, every goal was met, everything was customized to suit; and yeah, that girl i see is lonely. Trapped in a world with no passion, no drive, no flaws. its become a repetitive motion, based solely upon repetitive motion. Awaking everyday to the very same. No wrongs ever occur, no lessons learned,. The sky is always blue, rain never touched her face, snow melted on her nose, leaves never fell to pile, the grass never grew. No lovers quarrels, drove her to seek the right fit. no sports filled living rooms on Sunday, because no teams lost. There was no news, because there were no emergencies, no death, no crime, nothing ever happened at all. No celebrities, because everyone was a super model, sang beautifully, could act, no one ever had to learn a new trait because no failed at anything. No one ever had to take time to enjoy the perfect, because every moment was perfect. No one had to even strive for love, because it was always with in. If this world sounds perfect to you, then you are truly blind to the highest of joys. You've never had a far enough down, to show you to appreciate the high. You've rushed through every moment, because you had no height to aspire to. Creativity would not be possible with out something to express. In fact if we hadn't had that argument, i wouldn't have been creative enough to write this. Thus proving two things: 1: if nothing bad happened, there would be no good. With out the bad, there is nothing but a blank slate. 2: that my hardships are my gains. Instead of using the negativity people bestow upon me, to harbor hatred; i take it, and i mold it into a creative lesson to bestow in hopes other will not be negative when they face a lesson.


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Tuesday, January 17, 2012

21 grams



For every scientific accomplishment we have made, there is an equal and opposite scientific burden we have uncovered. Everything has a counter part, an opposite of equal value, doing the opposite action. We can prove, show, and fully understand how life starts. Simple enough, even our young know the solution to that problem. But no scientist, or human can tell what happens after death. We clarify death as our bodies no longer operating. Brain shuts down, no signals sent or received, hearts no longer palpitate, no blood circulating there fore rendering our organs powerless. Life can only be created one way(sperm and an egg.) Death can happen any number of ways. That unknown and unexplainable part that makes us, "Us" is our soul.



There are so many puzzling questions i have:
What happens to our minds, things we know or learned when we die? Are they only attached to the brain, or does the soul retain some of that? What do coma patients experience while in a vegetative state? Is it possible that is where we go when we die? That even though we are dead that place still exists? Maybe that dream state, isn't really within us, its part of something else entirely. Who can even tell if the white light is real or just hear say. Or maybe the white light is like a birth. we're inside the womb, awaiting delivery, and the white light is the new life we are about to embark on. Those are topics known as Metaphysics - Where notions and philosophy meet science.
                  Dr.MacDougall

Those are questions science cannot answer me, but i think its something we all think about. What i can offer you is some data from Dr.MacDougall, which i believe should in some way answer a tiny portion of your questions. His studies into whether or not he could prove there is a soul within us, and if he could calculate a weight to prove it. He had 6 patients of terminal illnesses, and 15 dogs. He created a very touchy scale bed for his patients, and he kept them as comfortable as possible in their final hour. I will not be retelling their stories and it seemed a bit dark for this topic. Patient one- the moment they expired there was a sudden loss of three fourths of an ounce. Patient 2- lost half an ounce. patient 3- lost half an ounce, and later 1 more extra ounce. patient 4- was unable to be measured. patient 5- three eighths of an ounce simultaneously. Patient 6- results were unable to be measured. Of the 15 dogs he attempted to measure, there was no change in weight. His belief was, animals have no souls. Of all his studies, he determined that the soul's weight was 21 grams, approximately 4 nickels. That has no explanation surrounding where the weight went in any of the cases despite many's efforts. They all did lose weight due to sweat and evaporation. roughly an ounce per hour, it was very slow. Any bowel movements would not matter as they would still have remained on the bed. he reported that the loss was very sudden and very extreme compared to previous weight loss. which again was one ounce over 60 minutes. 21grams in a second, simultaneous to the patients expiration.

What you take from his workings, is up to you. As i have stated at the very beginning of this project, life is perception. Just remember yours is yours, and no one Else's. I know there is a lot of controversy surrounding this topic and study, and the point of view i am taking is Facts don't lie. The controversy surrounding this topic is nothing new. Religion vs. science - and there are some who see both sides, but a good majority pick one side or the other and refuse to see the grey between the white and black lines.
It does amaze me how something so major can be so weightless. But in the same sense, A thought is weightless, but it still exists. The weight isn't the point of the experiment, its the proof that there is something more to us. And i know religious people will think us Atheist's for the study. The way i see it, science is reassuring us that there is more than meets the eye. But no matter what i say, its your perception you'll walk away with. I will end this with a quote most befitting, "life is eternal and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon, And a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight." by Rossiter W. Raymond. Some mysteries just aren't meant to be solved. The answers will be there when the time is right, and is that not the point?
-Jessi J


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Mr.James



Dear Mr. James
When we split up, i would have given life and limb to have things return to how they were. All in good time i got over the low blow you bestowed upon me. i forgave, but did not forget. I didn't forget the good, but i didn't forget the bad either. I held on to a spark of hope that i hadn't made yet another failure, a spark of hope for that happy ending we all seek. After we got back on speaking terms, i began to find myself conflicted. Did i want you back in my life? after all the wreckage you had already caused. I found myself overly tempted, until i saw you again, really saw you. Face to face, i see through you. Suddenly all that pain and past came flooding into view, and i couldn't get away fast enough. There i was believing we had both changed and grown as people, but in fact i was the only one whom changed. Everyone else seemed to remain the same. In that very moment i got the closure i had so sought. We didn't make it because we weren't meant to. It wasn't my destiny to be your wife, as it wasn't your destiny to be my husband. The lust confused with love, the stability clouded by fear of loss, it all led to a dysfunctional marriage. Although its nice to dream that the grass is greener, its not. The land we sew, died faster than our marriage did.
lots of Love, Jessi James
May your tomorrows be brighter than your yesterdays.


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Soul Mate's



We live in a society that tells us there is only one perfect match for us in the entire existence of man kind. One "soul mate" and that fate will bring them to us. Does this sound like a fairy tale to anyone else? There is no prince charming, there is no guarantee that you will fall in love, and be loved in return. Embedding us with the idea, that there is only one mate for us; puts added pressure in an already unstable world. "Will i find my soul mate?" or "did i miss my soul mate?" even "the love of my life died unexpectedly, will there be another soul mate for me in my life time?" Those are pretty big questions, a lot of strings attached, mainly to one's heart strings.
Theoretically its improbable that there's is only one perfect match in the world. Even as your reading this, there is someone out there thinking the same thought you are at this very moment. Are they your soul mate? They may live a world away, and you may never meet them. It doesn't mean you've missed your soul mate. That's why there is a billion dollar industry surrounding dating sights. People fear with out them, they will never find that soul mate. Psychic's also are big in the "match making" game. Not so much as bringing two people together, but rather reassuring you that your life holds meaning and you will find someone.
Statistically there are many suitable counter parts out there for each person. The hardest part is finding them. The oddest part about affairs of the heart and human nature is: The hunt is often sweeter than the kill. We fight tooth and nail to find that perfect person to settle down and procreate with, yet often enough once we have them and are stable we miss the hunt. We no longer deem our prince/princess charming worthy. Finding passion for something that's perpetually out of reach.
So although women are made to believe they are no whole with out a partner and a child, its simple ludicrous. There are many tasks and lessons to be learned - before one can stand as a pair. If one doth not know thy self, how an thy self be true? Life is hard, no matter what you have or don't have. Its supposed to be, if it was always smooth sailing there would be no sense of fulfillment. Nothing would be anything, and the world would seem topsi turvey, value would be lost. Treasure every aching moment of existence, because that's the true value, and its fleeting fast....
-Jessi J


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Saturday, December 17, 2011

A brighter tomorrow??

I keep going to sleep at night awaiting a brighter tomorrow: that never seems to come. Maybe i only remember the days like this/ when i feel alienated among man kinds. unable to relate, incompatible. I am overly sensitive to their negativity, and ridicule. I feel so deeply, that the tiniest little vibration hurts tremendously. I have been cast aside, i have screwed over, and the only time i remember feelings on top, was when i was soaring above, numb to the world. I do not feel a need to go on. If you throw me in therapy, and pour drugs down my throat, all your doing is killing me. Every fiber of me dead, and in turn creating a zombie. Who does that help? you! You cannot accept that some souls are so tortured from past lives, and current, that every moment is like an immobilizing pain. What would you have me do? to live with this, to satisfy you? pretend i am okay and happy? i am done pretending, when no one on this earth can relate or show me the same consideration i construe or convey to them. I do not hate all living beings, i hate those which make life just a little worse. I am just so far away from the light, i can no longer feel its glow on my face. -Jessica J

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Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
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Thursday, December 8, 2011

Illusionary Fantastic

Illusionary Fantastica –“Fantastica” stemming from the disorder Pseudologia Fantastica. Compulsive lying, to manifest a whole world in a web of lies.  Illusionary Fantastica was an ongoing project conducted by myself, Jessi J. The study was canceled due to information compromise. Illusionary Fantastica – to paint a world in one’s own mind, and disown reality, not on a permanent basis. Although lying may be a common ground between the two, they are not the same in characteristics. I.F. is wanting to live in the fantasy created in one’s own mind. The fantasy is always the same fantasy. Characters within the fantasy man change. Example: Suzie believe she is married to actor John Doe. She obsesses over actor John Doe, fills her mind with every detail of his being, and his past. And adds more detail to her mental Fantasy as her knowledge grows. A patient exhibiting signs of Pseudologia Fantastica, may have several fantasies they move between during their separation with reality.

This project has since been stopped, due to the fact, my work was ruined by a hacker.

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Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
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A tale as old as time (work in progress)

The day the wonder and mystery fades, is when the cold truth seeps into your fiber, your consciousness.  Only when we are truly breath taken by wonder is it truly ever wonderful.  As is the case with myself, having seen, experienced, learned, and formed a perception, is there no turning back. Greatest wonders and mysterious have become no longer mysterious nor wonderful.  They get stripped away, taking along with them my passion, and often my will, or motivation. My drive for life, for uncovering each new day, has faded long ago. I can’t go back and undo the effects I’ve caused, nor can anyone undo the effects they have caused. I can’t unlearn, un see, un feel the cold depth that the world is masking below the surface of everything.
                Maybe being naive is truly bliss – as in blissfully unaware, blissfully ignorant. The fact is I’ve seen the cold, dark, seedy underbelly; I cannot go back to believing it to be anything more than what I’ve experienced, than what I’ve perceived.  If existentialism is correct, I’ve led myself to see the world this way. If its correct then I am subconsciously right where I want to be. Whether I see it or not, I allowed myself to find this path, I allowed myself to continue to follow this path. Point being life will never be the same, to anyone. We all feel differently, we’ve all experienced different steps, even if we have the same end result.

When I am around or within reach of temptation; I cannot say no. The difference with the new me, and old me being: I do not seek a situation that will involve any type of temptation. I am not saying I cannot partake, I am merely stating that I am not only driven to continually be in that state. Recovering addicts cannot be taught the lessons we learn on the way back from temptation. We are doomed to only believe it when we see it happening, and even then some can’t wrap their minds around it. Recovery is not magic, there is no easy way, there’s no magic remedy. What there will be, is a new awakening, a new found perception. The perception that we’ve seen hell, and back; and it hasn’t dragged us down to the pits of hell, because we wouldn’t allow it. There’s no sudden cure, it’s a disease. I’ve heard many argue it is not a disease. Is a disease not, a lifelong battle for an incurable aliment? That more than describes the symptoms of an addict.
                Anything easily procured, or acquired usually has a catastrophic drop or downfall. Its amazing how quickly, yet thoroughly we become addicts. Addiction can happen to anyone, anytime. The Rich, The Poor, The Smart, The Dumb, The Lazy, The Motivated, The Strong, The weak, The Pure, Or The Evil. And every fathomable combination in between . We need the drugs, to escape from hardship(s) of raw reality. For many addiction stems from poor coping skills. Inability to cope with good, or bad, do drugs to give way to an alternate perception of reality. Making bad less bad, making good, seem more triumphant.
                One person may become an addict due to recreational use. Party’s or social settings usually are fueled by inebriation. Drugs are what gave birth to parties: “I used this, it felt good. We should gather together and feel good together. Allow our inhibitions to lower, and make us stupefied.”  Even the most simple minded can wrap their mind around such. Drugs are a tale as old as time.
                Addiction, A dependence usually has two sides. Physical, and emotional; Getting emotional/Mental withdrawals is just as terrifying as the physical withdrawals.  Most with an addiction deny they are an addict. Not because they’re liars, more directly because they do not realize. Addiction sneaks up very subtly lulling you into a false security of drug you. You’re safe because you’re not this or that stereo type (as I previously explained). They are in a fantastica (false reality) about themselves. They want to lie to you, because they don’t want to admit the truth to themselves let alone another. That’s why the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. They basically get you to admit your addict as much as possible because they want you to be okay with the term addict, and feel secure in admitting you have or have had a problem. There is no shame in addiction, it just means your hiding from one thing or another, or have been altering your reality so long, its hard to come back to the reality we share. You notice your body screaming with every ounce inside of you, telling you it doesn’t want this. It has become accustomed to lifestyle that it doesn’t want to release. Most times in recovering you melt down, wanting to deny this life, wanting to escape the dull, painful reality. Wanting to rip your skin from your muscles and muscles from bone, to get rid of the plague you have poisoned your body with.
                Realizing there is a problem, and that you have lost control; Feeling like a robot, powered and fueled by the addiction. Seeing only the addiction, everything else just becomes black, life becomes a hellish abyss; Living day to day only to satisfy the addiction. Addiction over powers all reason, and any conscience you had. It will slowly grow, consuming all in its path. I think the important thing to remember for family, and loved ones of the addict, is simply the fact, this no longer is the person you know. They may never be that person again, but all is never lost. No matter how far you or someone else have gone, there is always a way out. I know many times it seems pointless, and impossible, but that’s wrong. I know when people said that to me, I didn’t listen to them. I thought, if they could only see my life, the things that drive me to keep using. Or if they could feel how bad these physical withdrawals are, they would know that its beyond pain. That I was the worst case scenario and that the only way to quit, would be when I left this earth. I feared any type of imprisonment, jail, prison, rehab, being stranded somewhere, a place I would have to face my demons alone, head on. But that day did in fact come. It was more than due to come find me. It wasn’t easy, like I previously said, there is no magic cure, no simple route. You just have to breathe, and remember that as existentialism states we make our own happiness. And that’s our obligation to our own happiness. Are you happy as an addict? Searching for a fix? Avoiding life? The drugs may make you think you are, but just take one moment, look at your life, and how quickly you have gotten where you are. Now imagine how much further you will go, if you carry on in this manner. Days begin to seem longer, harder, and leave you just a little bit weaker.
                An Addiction is not cut and dry. Once recovered you are always an addict, always battling to not fall into your previous mistakes. Hence the addiction being referred to as a Disease. Addicts take no ease in learning the recovery is a lifelong battle, usually best to teach the tools they need momentarily, than to teach the disease’s long term effects and complications. In Narcotics and Alcoholics Anonymous they teach you to live “one day at a time” and their correct. Taking it one day at a time is less over whelming to focus on. It’s always harder getting into a project, knowing it can take a lifetime to complete.  It seems like the addiction seems to blind you, and hypnotize you into believing souly in it. Making you feel trapped into continuing use. I’ve seen several good people, of strong will, being sucked down and eaten alive by this demon. It doesn’t have to be your end in this world, and addiction isn’t it for you. Once you come out of it, and you can see clearly. You begin to experience the depression of everyday. Everyday seeming like your personal breaking point. You see all the things you’ve done wrong, and all the people you’ve hurt. Which can drag you down more, some it does, some it doesn’t. The best thing to keep in mind, is everyday feeling content, and happy with your choices. Thus making you a happy person and less susceptible to being over whelmed and sucked back into a life you don’t really want to be.
                I’ve noticed some people want to be clean, only when the drugs are gone. To quote a song by Everlast “saving grace” – “If you’re losing your high, your losing your faith.” That single sentence spoke spades to me when I was using. Getting clean isn’t something to be done to lower your tolerance, to help you cope through a week where the drugs are few and far between. Sobriety must be come to in ones own time, for true results. You have to literally be sickened by the thought of another day wasted, and tossed aside like a candy wrapper. 
-Jessi J <to be continued>

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Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
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Oh what a night. (a short i did awhile back)

I stare into your eyes, your still, as if you’re a photograph. You seem so rugged, your hair, course harsh lining your face. You stand, you hover above me. I feel safe, when my body is screaming to be apprehensive. You stand looking down, your eyes never break contact. You say “It’s okay” in a tone of security, yet so gentle and quiet, it’s as if the words didn’t want to leave your mouth. Your take your long, strong arms, and your wrap them around me. As if you want to comfort me in appearance, but in your heart you just had to be close enough to press our bodies together. I take you in, slowly. You roll into my face like a cloud of smoke; I inhale you, and feel you as your course through my veins. You become like the blood, shooting into my heart. You inhabit the heart, as you take control from the inside out. And I can feel you, as I breathe back out, smoke rolls from my mouth. A kiss, has never been so mysterious, and yet, so intense it shook me to my core. You back up, your arms swing back, bad posture, but it appears as if you’re warning all the males nearby. You stare, neither of us speak. The intensity I feel radiating from your eyes, seem to have control. I fear no words I say will be anything in comparison to what we have between us. Your long fingers switch as you close your hands, and await a word from me, any word. But alas I cannot speak, as if my mind a new born babe, cannot fathom any word in any vocabulary known to man. You pull out a chair, using your body language offer me a seat. We sit, I know I must seem strange, a word must leave my lips, I fear if they don’t, you will disappear as quickly as you came.
I have never felt someone kiss me in such a way before..” I spoke softly, my voice cracks as if I had just awoken. You chuckled, I remember you laughed as if I was being modest. “You sat there, the only girl in the coffee shop looking so sad. Writing in your notebook, with such..
 you paused, searching for exactly how to relay what you saw, into my mind perfectly. “As if any world, beyond this world, is where you wanted to be. I stood there, watching you for a several minutes, and had to come over. I didn’t plan on a kiss, but I knew I had to show there are things in this world that are worth your gaze.” You spoke it so poetically, I felt as if I had just been read the most beautiful poem, any girl could hear. I remember smiling back at you, as the man at the counter shouted your name, and you rushed off. It was so crowded that day, and I was still inebriated by you, that I Didn’t even hear your name.
Remembering this now, it seems like a dream. So many years ago, you having been that charming man in the coffee shop. The one who turned my world upside down with one short embrace. Do you know I returned to that coffee shop, again and again, just hoping to find you, Or learn your name even. I always hoped if I went there to write, that again, you would show your face. Come up and kiss me with that kiss of inspiration you gave me once before. You truly were a muse, in every aspect of the word. After that day we saw each other, I wrote like I had never written before. It changed me, but not necessarily away from who I was. It made me more concentrated, I was able to write much more vividly. I could have painted the world with the inspiration that embedded itself with in me. To this day if I contract Writers Block, all I need do, is return to that very spot. I used to swear I saw you in markets, walking ahead of me on the cold New York streets. I would walk faster, catch up, and realize it couldn’t be you. You wouldn’t be the type of man that would read those books. You wouldn’t be the type of man to yell crastly on your cellular phone. Often I wondered if you even would remember me, if we should see one another again. I wonder still, if I had the impact upon your life that you had on mine.
I think everyone that I allowed to hear this story, thought me to be of the insane. Maybe I wrote the story, and thought it to be true. But only you and I, among the thousands in this city, know it to be true. Perhaps it was a bit insane to hold out blind hope of a second encounter. Something inside of me wouldn’t allow me to let go. It wasn’t until many years later, that I saw the face, Walking into an office, for an interview about my upcoming book release, I dropped my notes. Pages flew all over, blowing down the hall way with the wind. One tall man, dark haired, broadest shoulders I have ever seen. Stopped in his tracks, knelt down and picked up pages. As he turned to pick up a few more, and return them to the rushed woman. That I saw your face again, and I remained speechless again. But determined to find a name for this man who had single handedly given me the best gift. A gift of hope, and beauty, in an unsure, sometimes cold city. Our hands touched again, and I said “it’s you.” Hoping deep inside of me, you knew who I was. Had you not, I was sure I would lose all the good, that you had done for me. “We meet again. Tell me is the world able to be gazed upon?” you said with that same intense poetry you had all those years ago. “It does, and thank you for sharing your inspiration with me. I must add it has filled the pages of many notebooks, and now pages of my book.” I said, wanting to sound as if I had it all together, when in reality I was shaking inside. “I had no idea, I’d been taken into such capable hands.” You said. “I simply must take you out, to celebrate. I really haven’t anyone else to celebrate this new book deal with, that could possibly be more befitting than you!”  I said almost afraid that you would decline. “would could I refuse you?” you said with a smile “Im afraid I don’t even know your name?” I asked shyly “Its Anthony Defazio” you said, in an almost serene moment, while we shuffled down the hall way. -Jessi J

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Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com

Intro To Philosophy Of A Borderline..



Philosophy is what we make it, its interpretation. This project is my search for the answers to: my life, my mistakes, and my future. Maybe that’s subjective to each individual. This is just one journey of a fucked up girl, whose desperate searching for the answers, led her here. I hope that through this anyone struggling like i did, and do, will find the answers, or the path they need. Possibly feel comfort in knowing there are others out there that are struggling and searching for a reason to why we're here, and why we're such a mess psychologically. Much like the authors Suzanna kaysen, Beverly D'onofrio, And Dorthy Parker have done for me. Life is a tough shell to crack, but maybe leaving it uncracked and learning why it’s a shell at all is the best course, but on the other hand, maybe diving in there head first and asking questions later is the right choice, Interpretation. Every new beginning must come from another beginnings end. So keep that in mind as you walk the journey of life.


Philosophy of a borderline: Ambivalence means to be torn between two courses of action. Example: Live or die, it implies strong feelings in both choices, and uncertainty of which path is the right choice.  Insanity, text book insanity the act of repeating the same act again and again, hoping for different results. this definintion has always bothered me, seeing as how some of the greatest minds of our times, have repeated the same act again and again in hopes of different results. The difference is, they were creating the same act, but altered it. Such as Devinci and his flying machine, small tweaks are not the same act. The acts in which insanity refers to, is like putting yourself in a bad situation time and time again, thinking this time will be different.
            I consider myself in between, snug in the middle of the two. An Ambivalent insane. My meaning, to be unsure if you really are crazy or not. You have very lucid moments in time when you realize you are not, for lack of a better term, sane. Being unable to define the line between reality and imaginary, being one’s own worst enemy. Committing acts that you know full well are self-damaging. Being uncertain of any future or if you even want a future. The technical term for this is: Borderline personality Disorder.
            I am Jessica, and i suffer from this every day. Does this make me mentally weak? You tell me. I’m no slouch, no moron, do i over think, yes. Does my mind keep me awake at night reeling about things that are said and done long ago, yes. Am i going to go insane and murder everyone, no! I'm very passive, but i have my moments. Just like everyone there’s good days and bad days. We are high functioning in society; mainly because we are aware of our illness, and limitations. Some borderlines do not even know they have the disease. Mental illness has a huge stigma in the states, many people are too afraid to seek help, or simply unaware there is even a problem. But then on the other hand, there are some borderline’s who get progressively worse over time. Eventually forgetting what a normal life is, or feels like. We begin to feel trapped in our own minds. Almost unaware how far we've been buried in our own afflictions. The oddest part is how we can commit such dangerous actions; without one moment of thought for what our actions may cause. And yet, we can over think everything else. Such as the lyrics to a song, or a conversation with someone. Replaying things over and over in our minds. Analyzing every word or body movement.
            A lot of borderlines end up with a chemical dependency. I am not sure why, exactly.  I know with me, i wanted to numb out the pain, be it emotional or physical. And because it slowed my mind down, so it wasn’t constantly going 100mph. And it helped with the daily anxiety i felt about everything and everyone. Getting off of the 7 year addiction, after suppressing everything so long, amplified the previous issues. When they all came back it felt like a wave had sucked me under and drug me out to sea. No matter how i struggle it doesn’t help. Someday i float along and others, i want to throw in the towel and let the ocean drag me under. End this misery once and for all.
            They say suicidal thoughts are part of the disease. Most people think the "suicidal thoughts" are only thoughts because we don’t really want to die, we just want attention. This may have the tiniest pebble of truth to it. We are trying to hurt ourselves, and kill ourselves to drown out the dark the dwells just under our surface. When you don’t want to feel anything anymore, death seems like the logical choice. When death draws near, only then do we begin to fear or prevent it. Our mortality which once seemed useless, or a punishment, now is a question of how far our bodies will carry us in this life. I haven’t reached the level of being grateful for every day. Maybe i never will. I don’t think that with all the different things my mind reels on - that i could ever be blindly happy. Or ignorant, for bliss. Maybe no one truly is.
            I've never set goals or standards for myself; it’s just not something my mind seems to process. My mind constantly runs with all kinds of thoughts, about the earth, mortality, life, the meaning of existence, existentialism. But goals and a future has never been on that list. I lay awake at night worrying about friends and family situations now, or if I’ll be able to be socially active due to my extreme anxiety.


Perception: Staring up at the night sky, the stars and moon - every night they'll be there as if they're awaiting the world to gaze upon their beauty. Romantic's tend to reference the stars and moon a lot; poets and writers alike. Maybe it's because of their natural beauty and wonder. Or maybe it’s because of their common ground, or Possibly their reliability in our life... A lot of them make reference to "Giving you the stars, or Moon" because it’s such a grand gesture. Wouldn’t you be wooed if someone gave you something as grand and one of a kind like the moon? Men seem to all topple over themselves to outdo other men in the art of Woo. As if it’s a sign of their man hood, or something. But they do it in hopes of procuring a mate, or possible suitors. And thus win the right to procreate with said woo-ee.
            It’s like everyone wants to live in a little sealed box. You all strive to keep indifference out, and yet applaud the Freud, and worship the art of vangogh; Because Freud made psychological claims based on his perception. Vangouh never sold a single painting in his life, and ironically in death is the appitamy of the art world. He led a long depressing life, and tried to express himself and his perception and everyone sneered at him. Then he dies, and wow, it’s like we've just discovered him. And the art world sits ringing its hands congratulating themselves for finding him. When, if we weren't so closed minded to difference and others perceptions he may have gotten to experience the appreciation of his works.
            Everyone perceives everything differently. The eye see's, sends a signal to the brain which in turn turns that into imaginary, which we perceive as reality. Two people can be exactly the same, but they aren’t perceiving things the same way. Those who claim to be, are making false statements. No two people, think, imagine, or perceive the same things the same ways. You may group them together because of common ground but do not make the mistake of ever thinking anyone will have the same perception you do. The world, the planet, it’s all ground we are all walking, But no two humans will ever experience the same journey.

            Perception of the meaning of life: The meaning of life, a question that has bugged the human race as long as we can remember. We have a hunger for a meaning to why we live, what we are created to do. We want to define all the things we experience, and research everything. Tag everything, and categorize it, and stick it in a dusty drawer never to be gazed upon again. Philosophers over time have all put their take on it. But when i was researching the afterlife, and what happens when we die, etc. i came upon Sylvia Browne's views of such. Basically she would have you believe we walk this earth to gain knowledge to take back to the other side. She describes the other side as sheer bliss, peaceful, and all knowing. If it is all knowing and so splendid, why do we come to earth? Why would we exist on earth only to learn? How does that make life fulfilling? Does this mean Sylvia doesn’t believe in evolution, or Darwin’s theory?
            Maybe the meaning of life isn’t as complicated as everyone tries to make it out to be. Maybe it’s always been, and always will be right in front of us. Finding happiness in the midst of war, Smiling when you want to cry, laughing when your broken hearted and worn down. Or tolerance when you’re at your wits ends, straddled with hardship. Maybe it’s just these little fleeting moments, like when a child put their hand in yours for guidance. A good deed done, when you didn’t have to. A Meal for the homeless when you don’t have next month’s rent. Coming home to a house full of loved ones, and memories. Knowing that tomorrow is another adventure you have yet to see.
            But if the meaning of life is simplicity, I’ve wasted my life over analyzing, studying cause and reaction. Most of all, it’s been wasted under appreciating. Be it family, friends, or love. I've underappreciated them all. I took the good for granted, been stuck so deeply in the bad, i didn’t know up from down. I've been waiting for something grander to happen to give me the faith that I’ve struggled to understand. When i was missing out on all the magic and wonder of days past. In the end, maybe realizing this is that grander sign I’ve awaited so long. Or maybe i am doing like everyone else, and I’m sealing myself in that box and refusing to feed my urge for further knowledge of anything that doesn’t conform to "box Life." Heck, maybe the meaning of life is security. Love security, having a counter point to depend on. Or maybe it’s an interpretive thing, depending on what 'level' we are on.

            Perception of the meaning of life/Existentialism: Blaise Pascal, Fredrich Nietzsche, and Soren Kierkegaard have got some fascinating views of the meaning of life, life fulfillment, and Existentialism. Which is something i am fully behind, and i believe should be more promenade in our states schooling curriculum. Existentialism was brought about by 19th century philosophers (Pascal, Nietzsche, Kierkegaard) whom despite their differences in their positions generally focused on the condition of human existence, and an individual’s emotions, actions, responsibilities, and thoughts - Or the meaning of the purpose of life. Existential philosophers often focused more on what was believed to be subjective. Like religion or human states of being, feelings and emotions. Pain, guilt, regret, happiness, freedom, fulfillment. As opposed to analyzing the objective like language, or science.
            Soren Kierkgaard is whom is referred to as the father of existentialism. He said that "The individual is solely responsible for giving his or her life meaning. And for living that life passionately and sincerely - in spite of distractions including despair, angst, absurdity, alienation, and boredom." Which is along the lines of what i believe. Going back to over thinking the meaning of life, and constantly being on the lookout for our fulfillment, and meaning. As if it’s going to fall from the sky into our laps. No one gets anything for nothing; we get what we put in. Those out looking will find that a lot sooner, than those awaiting the knowledge.
            To study the existence or non-existence of god - And how one constitutes a fulfilling life. Its traditionally systematic or academic philosophy in both style and content, as to the abstract and remote from concrete human experience. This term and knowledge of existentialism became popular during post war times. As a way to give meaning and importance to human individuality, and of course freedom.

            Perception Fantasy Philosophy: I myself, have a fantasy life. At times it’s hard to see through the muck and emotional turmoil that is my daily routine.  But its there, hidden away. We all have fantasy, it’s what drives us in life. Should you not want those fantasies, be it money, power, looks, love, well then why would you get out of bed in the morning? What would you go to work for? We teach our kids at a young age about fantasy, in the fairy tales we tell them before bed. We even create fantasy mythological characters, that now represent the fleeting youth. Santa clause, the Easter bunny, or The tooth fairy. As we grow up we develop our own fantasy life, buried deep in the back of our minds. And we strive in hopes of one day making that a reality. But living purely on your fantasies will never make you happy. The goals i guess we set as humans, it’s to strive to live by everyone else’s standers, or ideals. And we seem to measure our life and our fulfillment by stuff, things, and items of no real value in the whole scheme of things. Just things we attain on the journey we are making this trip 'round, or this life. In the end of days, of our life, what gives us significant of our life? Relationships, love, stability, the value of self-worth, and the value of others.
 Fantasies have to be unrealistic, the moment it becomes anything but fantasy, or you get your fantasy, you will not want it anymore. For our fantasies to keep alive in our minds, desires that long for that fantasy must keep it just out of reach. Not so far you can’t reach it, but far enough you won’t reach it. It’s not the items we can’t, it’s not the money or fancy cars, and it’s the drive of wanting it. The fantasy if you will. "We are only truly happy when day dreaming about future happiness." Fore if you get what you seek, you’re doomed not to want it. –Jessi J
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Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com