Books and things
Is it unfair of me to value things that I come up on my own higher than things that come from reading books? I don't really know if it's even possible to get to the root of an idea enough to decide truly if it's one or the other, but I still feel like if I think things out on my own it has more value somehow than if I analyze something that someone else has written.
I remember the conclusion I came to a while ago: I thought that, instead of actually actively coming up with things directly from the books that I was reading, I could let the ideas in me go into my head and see what came out. That way, whatever it was, it was mine somehow, right? I suppose with that approach it would be rather impossible for me to be a scholar, but somehow I see worth in it anyway.
I like to think sometimes that life is all interconnected -- actually, most of the time I like to think that. I also like to think that everything that I read has something worth seeing in the pages, and that way I never end up reading and thinking that there was nothing worth finding there. Though, come to think of it, I don't think _Kill Kill Faster Faster_ had anything worthwhile in it... maybe I just don't know what I got out of it. Anyway, it doesn't really matter if I actually believe it, so long as I pretend it's true, right?
I'm not even sure if that makes any sense, but it was fun to say. I think that there are at least two people in my head; there's the one that doesn't understand the worth of things that start in hardship, and there's the one that does. The one that knows when things are worth doing I brought up once at dinner, but didn't have the nerve to explain... I wonder if everyone would have thought I was insane if I had. Come to think of it, those two aren't really voices, anyway... they're just reactions to stuff. Speaking of voice, there's also the one that answers my questions when I try to talk to God... I don't know what to think of that one at all.
I bet I could bring back the voice that kept telling me to die if I wanted, but I don't. It's so strange... I can't really say that it's me, but I can't really say that it's not me either. If you're reading this and you know me, you probly think that I'm insane, but I doubt that the things I'm describing are really things you aren't familiar with. I just like to personify them sometimes... or maybe they like to personify themselves. I could ask them, but I don't think their answer would be worth anything.
I remember the conclusion I came to a while ago: I thought that, instead of actually actively coming up with things directly from the books that I was reading, I could let the ideas in me go into my head and see what came out. That way, whatever it was, it was mine somehow, right? I suppose with that approach it would be rather impossible for me to be a scholar, but somehow I see worth in it anyway.
I like to think sometimes that life is all interconnected -- actually, most of the time I like to think that. I also like to think that everything that I read has something worth seeing in the pages, and that way I never end up reading and thinking that there was nothing worth finding there. Though, come to think of it, I don't think _Kill Kill Faster Faster_ had anything worthwhile in it... maybe I just don't know what I got out of it. Anyway, it doesn't really matter if I actually believe it, so long as I pretend it's true, right?
I'm not even sure if that makes any sense, but it was fun to say. I think that there are at least two people in my head; there's the one that doesn't understand the worth of things that start in hardship, and there's the one that does. The one that knows when things are worth doing I brought up once at dinner, but didn't have the nerve to explain... I wonder if everyone would have thought I was insane if I had. Come to think of it, those two aren't really voices, anyway... they're just reactions to stuff. Speaking of voice, there's also the one that answers my questions when I try to talk to God... I don't know what to think of that one at all.
I bet I could bring back the voice that kept telling me to die if I wanted, but I don't. It's so strange... I can't really say that it's me, but I can't really say that it's not me either. If you're reading this and you know me, you probly think that I'm insane, but I doubt that the things I'm describing are really things you aren't familiar with. I just like to personify them sometimes... or maybe they like to personify themselves. I could ask them, but I don't think their answer would be worth anything.