Here's the deal with life, it's got these wheels called motivation. Some people get up every morning because they've got dreams to work on, some people would rather have someone next when they open their eyes because they want to be understood.
I can only get up when I'm pissed off.
I am alive to see the red.
The last couple of months irritate me. They haven't irritatED me, they're getting to me now. Basically I find an excuse and like the good little patient I've been, I take every pill in the fucking box. Skipping on commitments is the quickest way to nihilism, I've been convinced I don't care.
People before mirrors are filthy liars, thing is people make for the best mirrors around... and breaking them doesn't sum up to seven years bad luck. We are our own affliction, every problem, every gripe, it's all on the shoulders of the guy on our driver's licences. 'I'm trying something new', 'I've been drinking', 'Lately everything's gone wrong'. These have been my big three in the last few months. No more excuses, I do bad things because I think one day someone's coming to save me.
I think I don't care because I don't. Why should I care? I'm living an intravenous life. I'm more profitable alive, so someone sees to it. Hell, even today I've been refusing to breathe and someone's been doing it for me. Anybody who knows me is aware that I haven't been properly employed for years now. Why bother? I'd have to walk among more of the army of cardboard cutouts. There's a government willing to pay for my necessities. I'm not going to die if I fail, I just get a participation award. One that I've been getting too proud of.
So I've turned my mirror on myself and it's reflecting my darkness. It hurts and it should. The dead are the only ones beyond repercussion. Ask any artist, it's the shadows that add depth. But this is ridiculously addictive. People can spend their entire lives struck blind by the allure of their malaise. I find I fall in love with my own solitude. It explains why I screw up around people, it's a passport for unwarranted insecurity. The white lie here is that a lack of selfishness makes me a good person, my obsession with treating other people right is the justification behind Caucasian M #6288439562227849. No, just no. On the flip side, it comes from looking at people in fear. Looking at people and thinking, 'one day, you could be this'. I fear for my own identity. Stupid, considering I have no idea who the hell I am anyway. I tremble at my mimicry, I shiver at the anchor of aspiration lying amongst these people, I scream at the beckoning mass grave.
These were my saviours. These people just as small, frightened and lost as me. I want their appreciation why, again?
I haven't lost my faith in humanity. On the contrary, if anything I've finally found it. We exist in ourselves, behind drawn curtains, iron bars and then buried. It's about looking at your own conundrum. What makes sense? What doesn't? What can be resolved and how? What can be cut off like a gangrenous limb? Can I stand the pain? There are the people who keep this in mind and the people who'll do anything to ignore it. The people who can look at everyone and understand that noone fully understands and the people who think too much of themselves or expect too much from everyone around.
It can be horrific, really coming to grips with what is and what isn't meant to be. Having your dream turn to a nightmare all around you. Then came the wrath. The fury to cut it all away, to sever the black fingers restraining my arms, to tear away the white mist over my mind.
And now I'm red with my own blood. My own blood I pulled back. Red and ready to live for all I'm for and opposed to what I'm not. To move on from what should be left behind. Sure, I still don't know where the hell I fit. That's not a problem. I know too much to call myself an intellectual, still, as has become widespread knowledge by now, I'm way too dumb to fall in line with the backbone of our society. I've got my own measure for success and I think I'll just stick with that...
...
... And there will always be room for MY CHEESY HEROIC LAMENESS!!!
In summary: I need to get out more and stop stressing myself into illness...
Love & Justice and all that cal
TONGS AWAY!!!
4 comments:
kudos for the enthusiasm.
Aye, it's a bit everywhere... but you can get way too caught up with things like that
Good to see you blogging again. BUT FUCK OFF WITH THE TAROT CARDS, THAT'S MY SHTICK.
I'm tempted to deconstruct this, but will, as usual, refrain.
"Skipping on commitments is the quickest way to nihilism."
I assure you, it gets tedious. Get out of that as soon as you can, because there's a lot of awesome shit going down on the other side.
Judging life on your serotonin levels is as almost as crude as judging others on their melanin.
You're not going to find a saviour while your looking for one, it never works that way. Till then, I recommend Primo Levi for perspective and Kerouac for inspiration.
You can have the rest of the major arcana, I get The Fool. I'll seriously fight you for it... ala West Side Story, but still... *menacing clicks*
Post a Comment