Motivation...pure and harmonious

Today is a beautiful day. My mind is working on overdrive recently and despite the fact that I feel detached from the whole process, I'm starting to like it. There were days when I would wake up and question my sanity, but today is not one of those days. If only it happened like in the movies.
Cue the hero and his golden locks.
Cue his incredible entrance with sunshine gleaming through the castle walls and a pile of his enemies strewn about the still raging battlefield.
I woke up to the sound of my mother's voice on the answering machine. Well, it's really just a mechanical representation of my mother's voice. "Are you awake yet? Im picking you up at 12:30 so get up."
Cue my lack of motivation.
Cue my morning wood.
Out of bed and into the car. Out of the car and into the classroom. Out of the classroom and onto the bus where my day truly starts. To pass the time in-between classes I read books. Today, I finished Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk. I then proceded to read 150 pages of Lullaby, by Chuck Palahniuk as well, before realizing that my life had just been altered in a significant way. (This seems to happen to me quite a bit these days. But from what I've learned, the more you say it, think it, and write it the more likely it is to be true) My thought process is the most intimate thing about me. The closest I can ever come to expressing my thoughts only scratches the surface of everything there is to tell. But I can do my best to try and put it in writing for other people to enjoy, or hate, or mock, or whatever it is you do with egocentric dribble. At times I would wish the neurons of my whatever lobe could just exhaust and break down for just a few moments of mental silence. But the inability to percieve and mentally dictate each moment of time and space is a mental breakdown in itself. It's sort of a gift and an affliction all at the same time.
Cue the slow child in the back of the room miraculously answering his first algebra question correctly, only to stand up and expose himself to a classroom of adolescents.
I don't see the conscious mind as a curse. The great plague of mankind is not conscious thought, it is conscious apathy. It is an extremely simple concept that has been in question for ages. People are not using their brains for anything more constructive than marketing scams and political propaganda nowadays. If everyone pooled their efforts into one common goal there is no doubt in my head that this goal could be achieved. But the folly of man is a tragedy waiting to happen, again, and again, and again. Existence, human existence in particular, favors entropy.
Cue Juliet's bloody corpse.
Cue Romeo's rigor mortis.
The only thing I've got going for me is my writing, so here I am. What comes out on the paper are refelections of people I've met, experiences I've had, and the things I've learned. Even at my most desperate and vulnerable times, I can still be true to myself by just picking a pen and a piece paper. So I'm gonna run with it until my hand turns purple, or until I decide I need a new hobby.
Cue my inkless pen.
Cue our hero going back to sleep.

-For Chuck Palahniuk. With every sentence, an inspiration.