12.29.03
I wrote this to my friend, Jono, about six months ago. I found it, and I still liked it, so I'm just gonna go ahead and post in here.
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Hmmm… the babble in my head when I was smoking was much more constant and solid when I was just thinking it. Trying to type it all out seems like a much different story. Regardless, I’m going to attempt.
So, we’ve already touched on this subject a lot on Saturday, but this thought is so difficult for me to get away from. It’s relentless really. I don’t know if you remember me telling you about how I purchased the “Underworld” soundtrack, but on the last track, there’s a verse that I feel describes my perception of the world pretty adequately. It says this: “Here I go again… slipping further away… letting go again… of all that keeps me in place… I like it here, but it scares me to death… there is nothing here…” And it might seem somewhat negative, if not completely, but not in my head. I love the world. And I love what I feel like I’m swindling from it. Knowledge, passion, perception, experience, human interaction, and what it means to be grateful. Though I feel like I’ve obtained these things, or fractions of these things, I find myself questioning everything. This makes me feel unstable. I can’t get my little hands around anything. And I could be wrong… I could have them wrapped around this world so tightly… too tightly. It could go either way, but the point is, I feel severed from everything around me. And I wonder how self-consumed this might make me… and realize that being self-consumed is typical, and that every single person feels this way at one point or another to whatever magnitude. But I found myself wondering if everyone else was as grounded as they all appear… and if I was just making things more complex for myself… with all these asinine thoughts. And I feel like these thoughts could drive me so far away from what truly is reality… and this reality everyone understands except for me. And if this is truth, I could just lose myself to my own lunacy. But let’s flip this all around for a second… what if everyone else in the entire world was just pretending, and I was one of few that could actually comprehend that this world itself is controvertible instead of my thoughts… So, I, myself, wouldn’t be so controvertible, but could fully grasp that this world is, and I just have to exist here, regardless. And the pros and cons of thinking this way (whether this is all simple thinking or much more) keep weighing in my head. Would I rather have these thoughts and feel aware? Or would I rather be “grounded” and give in to the ways of society, structure and a stable mindset? Just kinda float through life… playing the role to the best of my ability… smiling, going through the common struggles of the common man, feeling confident or insecure about my house, car, family, religion, career, lifestyle, growing old with tradition emblazoned in my mind, and dying as a sweet, little, old lady with my pictures hanging on the walls of my children, grandchildren, and maybe even great-grandchildren. It’s not that I’m not happy… I’m a very happy girl… but there are few days when anything seems real… this could just be a rut. This could be a fucking mountaintop. I’m just not really sure where I am anymore, or how I got here. “I have 64 years left…” and I wonder if there’s any gratification in continuously questioning the world when it seems so unmistakable to everyone else. Maybe it’s not so unmistakable to everyone else… maybe it’s just as obscure, if not more so. But instead, they chose the detour of being ignorant to the fact that this life doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. And scientists… they’re just here for moral support. They’re the stronger side of humanity in not losing themselves to these asinine thoughts, but attacking the issue in trying to figure out how the hell we all got here, and how real any of this is. Or maybe they’re the weakest of us all… their incentives are entirely for self-gratification. Like a frantic search for the unequivocal answer of what exactly is going on here. Maybe our existence is the body of laws or principles. I guess it makes sense to enough of us. But my heart and mind scream something completely different. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but it seems to pull me in a much different direction than I see everyone going. I asked my neighbor, Mike, what his worst fear was once… and he said, “My worst fear is that right before I die, I’ll find out that I was the only one who didn’t know I was crazy my entire life.” I understand that so much more today than I ever have. You know… these thoughts probably only belong to 20-year-olds… I’m sure once I hit 35, I’ll be able to ride the same wave as everyone else, or acquire some kind of ignorance, or find stability. Whatever the case in all actuality is. But then again, today, I don’t think I believe in actuality.
I don't mean to be so heavy, but it's funny how I found myself here anyway. I miss Mike. Things were so simple then. I need a cigarette.
(If I’ve sounded like a five-year-old this whole time, don’t tell me, ha)
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Yeah...
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Hmmm… the babble in my head when I was smoking was much more constant and solid when I was just thinking it. Trying to type it all out seems like a much different story. Regardless, I’m going to attempt.
So, we’ve already touched on this subject a lot on Saturday, but this thought is so difficult for me to get away from. It’s relentless really. I don’t know if you remember me telling you about how I purchased the “Underworld” soundtrack, but on the last track, there’s a verse that I feel describes my perception of the world pretty adequately. It says this: “Here I go again… slipping further away… letting go again… of all that keeps me in place… I like it here, but it scares me to death… there is nothing here…” And it might seem somewhat negative, if not completely, but not in my head. I love the world. And I love what I feel like I’m swindling from it. Knowledge, passion, perception, experience, human interaction, and what it means to be grateful. Though I feel like I’ve obtained these things, or fractions of these things, I find myself questioning everything. This makes me feel unstable. I can’t get my little hands around anything. And I could be wrong… I could have them wrapped around this world so tightly… too tightly. It could go either way, but the point is, I feel severed from everything around me. And I wonder how self-consumed this might make me… and realize that being self-consumed is typical, and that every single person feels this way at one point or another to whatever magnitude. But I found myself wondering if everyone else was as grounded as they all appear… and if I was just making things more complex for myself… with all these asinine thoughts. And I feel like these thoughts could drive me so far away from what truly is reality… and this reality everyone understands except for me. And if this is truth, I could just lose myself to my own lunacy. But let’s flip this all around for a second… what if everyone else in the entire world was just pretending, and I was one of few that could actually comprehend that this world itself is controvertible instead of my thoughts… So, I, myself, wouldn’t be so controvertible, but could fully grasp that this world is, and I just have to exist here, regardless. And the pros and cons of thinking this way (whether this is all simple thinking or much more) keep weighing in my head. Would I rather have these thoughts and feel aware? Or would I rather be “grounded” and give in to the ways of society, structure and a stable mindset? Just kinda float through life… playing the role to the best of my ability… smiling, going through the common struggles of the common man, feeling confident or insecure about my house, car, family, religion, career, lifestyle, growing old with tradition emblazoned in my mind, and dying as a sweet, little, old lady with my pictures hanging on the walls of my children, grandchildren, and maybe even great-grandchildren. It’s not that I’m not happy… I’m a very happy girl… but there are few days when anything seems real… this could just be a rut. This could be a fucking mountaintop. I’m just not really sure where I am anymore, or how I got here. “I have 64 years left…” and I wonder if there’s any gratification in continuously questioning the world when it seems so unmistakable to everyone else. Maybe it’s not so unmistakable to everyone else… maybe it’s just as obscure, if not more so. But instead, they chose the detour of being ignorant to the fact that this life doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. And scientists… they’re just here for moral support. They’re the stronger side of humanity in not losing themselves to these asinine thoughts, but attacking the issue in trying to figure out how the hell we all got here, and how real any of this is. Or maybe they’re the weakest of us all… their incentives are entirely for self-gratification. Like a frantic search for the unequivocal answer of what exactly is going on here. Maybe our existence is the body of laws or principles. I guess it makes sense to enough of us. But my heart and mind scream something completely different. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but it seems to pull me in a much different direction than I see everyone going. I asked my neighbor, Mike, what his worst fear was once… and he said, “My worst fear is that right before I die, I’ll find out that I was the only one who didn’t know I was crazy my entire life.” I understand that so much more today than I ever have. You know… these thoughts probably only belong to 20-year-olds… I’m sure once I hit 35, I’ll be able to ride the same wave as everyone else, or acquire some kind of ignorance, or find stability. Whatever the case in all actuality is. But then again, today, I don’t think I believe in actuality.
I don't mean to be so heavy, but it's funny how I found myself here anyway. I miss Mike. Things were so simple then. I need a cigarette.
(If I’ve sounded like a five-year-old this whole time, don’t tell me, ha)
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Yeah...