**Vicarious World's Best of the Month**: The June Edition

Good day folks. What a month here at VW. This month saw the debut of VERGE, "an organization dedicated to self-expression, intellectual engagement, and productive networking." They had their first Open Mic Night, and we're hearing it was great success! Not to be outdone by anyone, JC was resurrected and promptly went about carrying the blog on his back do. Brother even wrote two poems! Up is down and down is up, dogs are humping cats, NYC Rob is physically attracted to men, mass hysteria all around! 

A peek inside the soul of a soulless man Pt. V: Auditorium by Jersey Campbell

         

            I’m at a crossroads. My existence seems stagnant. My ideologies and my behavior are at odds with one another. Excuse me if this seems like a journal entry, because it kinda is. I try to stay away from the pen/computer when my emotions swing too far in one direction, but sometimes this is the only release I have. Well this and my good friend Mary Jane; but sometimes even MJ isn’t what I need. This is one of those times. 

Jersey Campbell's notebook ramblings: return of the mac

emotions go like breezes through the wind
they ride, oscillating from one extreme to the next
you never know where they will take you
don't try and analyze these feelings, these neurons in your brain firing at all different angles
the magic will be lost
replaced by stifling reality
the winds of emotion become still, and nothing becomes everything
roars are now whispers, semblances
barely recognizable once they are thought of
think less, act more
emotion is the enemy of reason, but who needs reason when these emotions feel so complete
be still, and let the wind flow
ground yourself in reality, allow yourself to be swayed
be wary, lest the wind carry your soul too far
for while it is yours
it can be lost in the inevitable hurricane
unfound, gone forever, while the winds sweep you violently from climate to climate
passion is exciting
think more, act less
for actions done without thought are cruel

A peek inside the soul of a soulless man Pt. III: Reality Reconstruction by Jersey Campbell

Pt.I

Pt.II

From when I was a little tyke running from the girls with the cooties in the schoolyard my reality was developing itself. Well it was even before then, from when I was born in North Shore hospital and when my cute Martian-sized forehead began taking in this whole new world around him; my reality was beginning to take shape. I said that my reality was developing itself, what I meant to say was my reality was developing in virtue of the people and the things that surrounded me. I was incapable of developing anything during that time of my life with the exception of some feces in my diaper.

A peek inside the soul of a soulless man Pt I, by Jersey Campbell

I look around me and everyone is having a grand old time. $8 pitchers, $1 draft beer, how could you not enjoy yourself in a place like this? And even though I have more than enough drinks in me, I still feel over consciousness of where I am and what I'm doing. I analyze every subtle movement my body makes. The timing of my steps, the level of my eyes, the amount of grin I put into my mouth.

Over the years I find myself becoming more and more of an observer. Rather than actively participate in conversation, I'll slyly sit in the depths of the background and soak in what everyone is saying. After awhile, you see patterns and modes of behavior that become common place and are taken for granted. Why can't I just enjoy the environment without having to constantly think about it? What prevents me from throwing myself at a situation without any socially paralyzing inhibitions or overriding thoughts?