03.20
Woot. New blog. New domain. New idea for how to run with all of this. Just an altogether new direction.
I enjoy finally having my own blog. That’s cool and all. I have this strange double opinion on my thoughts, and that’s that people really should listen to me–I’m usually right when I tell someone to do something or give advice or things like that, but at the same time, when I try to think of how I must sound to the people around me, I’m pretty sure that I should be locked away.
That’s what this new direction is all about. I want a real blog that’s just ME. I don’t have to censor myself, I don’t have to do anything special or put on a little song and dance for people. I’m just putting my opinions out there. Instead of holding back because someone I know might find my LiveJournal or MySpace or Facebook, or whatever, I can just cut loose and say things like:
I believe that civilization as we know it will be ending within my lifetime. I think that these whiny shits on NPR who talk about how we have an “ethical responsibility” to save any life that we can are performing one of the greatest evils on Earth, by saving human lives that should otherwise be ending. I LIKED liver as a kid.
…without fear of reprisal. So, here it is. A place where I can document my descent into madness, leave my brain open where I (or others) can freely see it, and perhaps get the piece of advice from someone that’ll save my life from its inevitable plunge into lunacy before it’s all too late.
I find your writing very eloquent. I know how you feel. There are times like these that I wish I had not chosen to stay in this world! You are not falling into madness you were born into it, and you are better than those who brought you to this point.
Sweet, thanks! I don’t necessarily know that I’m BETTER than anyone, per se. It’s weird. So much of what I am and what I do is in conflict with itself. Every day is a kind of study on paradox. Hell, even my photography is (almost) all about contrasts in harmony. Or harmonious contrast. Or things fitting together because they don’t fit. Somehow, all of the things; good, bad, and otherwise that continue to happen to me never really… HIT. They just seem to strike on or near me, then slide off, and I look at all that’s happened, think about it for a while, and OFF I GO, somehow changed by the whole event, but forever detached from it.
I suppose that’s the beauty of it all? I’m forever firmly planted in life and the world and all of the mundanity that comes with that, but forever just slightly out of phase from it all, able to see, able to touch, but only feeling the slightest whisper of what’s really there.