I'm not quite sure what I am doing with this blog post. Just going to write until something makes sense, I guess. But that doesn't seem quite as easy as it is to type. My thoughts are strewn about, my feelings verging on a melancholy edge, my cares for the world slowly depleting. I guess I can say I bring these things on myself, though really fuck that shit. I have little control as to how people react to me, nor no immediate control as to my own reactions/feelings to those people. What do you want me to do?
I don't understand myself. I find small revelations, increments of self-knowledge, as I live through life. I try to find the capacity to reason with myself, with my impulses, with my sometimes headstrong and stubborn feelings -- this is not easy stuff to work out. How things build up is very complex. Drifting towards whatever I am, I don't know.
One of my favorite films - 8 1/2 - has a very good quote. "My dears... Happiness consists of being able to tell the truth without hurting anyone." I can't do this, and quite frankly, I'm not sure I can think of anyone who can. Happiness becomes unobtainable in this instance. We all have the right to live, and as long as we live that life without inflicting harm on others, we supposed retain that right. But emotional harm is something we can't objectively measure and we can't really help.
Because the truth fucking hurts doesn't it? It's this maddening whale of a beast and it eats up all the little krill. White lies, ha! Lies in general? Haha! Nothing compared to the harm TRUTH can do. Truth is a term with a lot of weight, and a lot of debate, and absolute truth in any sense is philosophically not possible. We create truths, illusory little ones. These truths we create, through no intentional plan of our own, are equal to webs of deceit. The reason truth hurts so much is because it destroys those webs. Leaves us bare. The spider has lost its home, ladies and gentlemen!
So I ask you again, what the hell am I to do? Why don't you try and deign to place some more positive directions for me to go, with your truths, however much they may clash with mine. Because I'll tell you something that Bob Dylan once said, and it seems a bit obvious of me to quote him, but this(along with 3-4 other quotes) is one of the few strings of words I've committed to memory based deeply on how well they fit with my self-conscious, too aware, overly insecure, analytical fuck-up of a mind: All I can do is be me, whoever that is.
Now if I don't know, how can you expect to?