(no subject)
I am embarassed by this entry. I am embarassed when I sit down, thinking, and compare it to, say, Suzie's journal, which is graceful about real things, whereas I ponderously blither away about purely subjective internal mental states. Not that purely subjective internal mental states aren't worthwhile, but, well, you know how it is...Anyway, Agnes, I suspect that you'll be pleased with this return to ponderous form, as I'm sure your sense of aesthetics has been distorted by far, far too much contact with my writings, and as for the rest of you - well, I can only apologize for this apology's adding even more length on to an already overblown entry. Anyway. On with the show.
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Right.
Wrong.
Maybe.
Someday.
It'll.
All.
Be.
All.
Right.
Maybe someday it'll all be all right. But you know you know maybe i can't live perfectly. but still it'll all be all right. why can't i think good? why can't i good good? why can't i piece together the one and the other and put it all to work for them taxpayer dollars?
Don't you understand? all that i am asking for is my little slice of self back - the rest i can do all by myself. don't you understand? i'm sitting here, ineffectually, when i could be triumphant; left to my own devices i rid myself of those cumbersome devices and drives and bask in the pure light of understanding; so give me my devices back and i'll devise my own slow laborous path upward.
this vagueness is only temporarily permanent. it will be undone. RIGHT. WRONG. IT'LL FUCKING BE ALL RIGHT. and my present is its own reward, but fuck fuck fuck i can't think straight. why don't i just do the good things; but i've gotta take the good with the bad the lumps with the cream. but fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck i've just gotta consistent myself. Consistent my self in the fucking head. do you know what virtue is like? i have forgotten virtue's face. i've seen virtue an' stared into his eyes and i've forgotten virtues face. but my voodoo is strong and it isn't going to give up. even as i drift floating aimlessly in water my shadow pulls me inexorably toward my distant distant goal. am i not closer than before? am i not even now in my despair, thrown and tossed about by waves, closer than before? [the answer's yes, by the by.]
Answering yes, by the by, since 1986,
--mark
------
Right.
Wrong.
Maybe.
Someday.
It'll.
All.
Be.
All.
Right.
Maybe someday it'll all be all right. But you know you know maybe i can't live perfectly. but still it'll all be all right. why can't i think good? why can't i good good? why can't i piece together the one and the other and put it all to work for them taxpayer dollars?
Don't you understand? all that i am asking for is my little slice of self back - the rest i can do all by myself. don't you understand? i'm sitting here, ineffectually, when i could be triumphant; left to my own devices i rid myself of those cumbersome devices and drives and bask in the pure light of understanding; so give me my devices back and i'll devise my own slow laborous path upward.
this vagueness is only temporarily permanent. it will be undone. RIGHT. WRONG. IT'LL FUCKING BE ALL RIGHT. and my present is its own reward, but fuck fuck fuck i can't think straight. why don't i just do the good things; but i've gotta take the good with the bad the lumps with the cream. but fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck i've just gotta consistent myself. Consistent my self in the fucking head. do you know what virtue is like? i have forgotten virtue's face. i've seen virtue an' stared into his eyes and i've forgotten virtues face. but my voodoo is strong and it isn't going to give up. even as i drift floating aimlessly in water my shadow pulls me inexorably toward my distant distant goal. am i not closer than before? am i not even now in my despair, thrown and tossed about by waves, closer than before? [the answer's yes, by the by.]
Answering yes, by the by, since 1986,
--mark