Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Letter to Myself: Notations on semi-insanity

Q: If you stop to wonder if you are insane, does that imply that you are not too far gone?

Q2: Or does it indicate that you are so far over the edge of madness that you have to ask?

A: Who's really sane, anyhow?

And for that matter who is the epitome of saneness that he (or she, heaven forbid) can be self righteous enough to deem others lacking in that intangible quality? I, as a doubter of the sanity of the Universe/Multiverse in general say that I am a prime candidate for that position... but then again, I never was much into the politics of status. O' lovely nonsense thy name is Man.

Why delude yourself with the truth when you can simply deny reality,

ignore injustice and pain, and pretend that you're having a good time?

Don't try to define the reasons for existence- Do as most men (and

women) - Be as hollow as everyone else. Beleaguering yourself with existential ponderances will only make you see the world as it really is –

...And that will only make you want to leave..!

If life were as simple as some perceive it to be, then the ignorant

would reign and those who lived by thought would be seen as the ultimate fools

Hmm... maybe it is that simple after all.

                                                          kirk - 04/19/92

22 years ago, Same thoughts,same conclusions

Is it only death and dark-done deeds that rule this - this - existence?

No love to call your OWN, No life to really feel...Every being to use all those around them, solely to enhance the so called quality of that "existence".

It was always too easy to denounce those statements as callous and untrue. But, but but- 

Those who feel AND think rather than those who either feel or think know the terrible, sickening truth. When I was but a boy, maybe ten years old, I used to wish that I was a dog, or a cat, or any animal but the one I am. Something that just lived its life to survive with nary a thought to why or how. And here I am, again. What is wisdom, that I still completely want that oblivious existence? What is knowledge, that

I find that I knew it all, when I was but ten years old?

Enough could be enough, except for the optimistic dream that there still can be found a meaning, a reason, a PURPOSE. Doubter that I am, I feel that there never will be found one, that there is none. I always went through these motions, of doubt, of self-pity, of hate, of sorrow, of death of soul and heart; but always there went an angel of creation, who followed my thoughts and gave me happiness in that I was only

one step away from the god/dream/fantasy that is Truth.  I always gave the appearance of despondency, of the despair of utter failure- and now, as i sit here, I Feel it, for maybe the first complete time, I understand the futility of the search for truth and know that to take my own life would be the only dignity I could afford myself, even though no one would ever understand, ending it all for this "life" simply because I do not allow myself the clouding of my soul, do not allow myself to wallow in the hypocrisy in order to survive.

And still, I will not die.

Therefore, I am THE Hypocrite of hypocrites, the damned of the damned...

God, if you truly exist, then truly you are a spiteful old goat of a deity, for your evil "Hope" will not let me quit, will not let me quit... And, I persevere, for nothing? for everything-

I can only 'hope' that in the end I will understand

1992

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Rolling stones-Letter to Amy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pJV2pWFyfn4

Everyone, at least that I know, always considered me the bad boy- the rolling stone.

I get that (I earned it) but when I t comes to you and Rain, I stopped rolling. I didn't really have a choice. I suppose that I did- but that one choice in my life saved everything about me. This song- is how I have always fantasized my life to be. Its how my dad lived. Its how I was brought up, really. But, its a complicated thing... like most things are.

This song, in ways, sums up a lot of the animosity between me and your mother.

I was that rolling stone- then I wasn't. This song was about me, until I changed it. In your world- this song isn't about me at all. But sometimes I wish it was. That's where your mom comes in.

She's the rolling stone. And- as much as I hate her for it- I love her for it too. Some days I just burn with jealousy that she gets to do whatever she wants, when she wants. Free as she lets herself be. No obligations, No commitments.

Her days are her own.

That's an intoxicating thing, in and of itself. There's less stress when you only have yourself to fend for, there's no decisions that don't benefit you and you alone.

I think of your mother, and I think of this big door with a glowing EXIT sign above it- where I can run through- and escape into myself and myself alone.

I do understand her. I understand her too much.

it's a life without responsibility- without accountability- without thoughts for the future. And without those factors- it makes life an emptiness.

Self is nothing, in the end. Its a lonely, empty room in a castle you may be King of- but its worth absolutely nothing if you haven't lived for someone else at least a few times in your life.

Live for others, so that they may live. That is my lesson for the day.