Seneca. Warm bath. Open veins.
Note to self: God is a leper.
Not only highly contagious, but once you've been infected virtually impossible to get rid of. We fear him. We avoid him. We shun him. Most of us are so scared of what he might look like that we neglect to find out whether or not he even exists. Better stay the fuck away or you might piss him off. Piss off a leper and you're bound to catch something deadly.
I feel sick sometimes, an illness without a name, impossible to diagnose. Like some kind of massive tumor lurking behind my brain that has swelled to the size of a grapefruit. It makes sense in a funny sort of way because lately it has been getting harder and harder to think. Before I ever wasted my brain away on drugs I was smart as a whip. I could easily do long division in my head while simultaneously making complex conversions of the metric system. Quick! How many liters in a gallon? Beats the hell out of me. Now I am lucky to remember the name of someone at a party 5 minutes after I was first introduced to them. I am running out of room in my cranium man. I can't fill my head up with useless chit chat, shit like what color car you drive or the name of your fucking cat. I've got to conserve space.
Space is a luxury and a burden. The more you have the less things begin to matter. If I had enough space to store an infinite amount of information, then suddenly serious issues like global warming and erectile dysfunction wouldn't seem so important anymore. Trivialized by comparison. There is a lot to be said for context you know. In the proper context anyone can be anything they fucking want to be. If I met a girl at church who gave out hand jobs she would be a whore. If I met the same girl at a whorehouse giving out hand jobs she'd be a saint. There is no damage so great that once done it can't be undone by merely shifting locations. It's that simple. A change of venue makes everything new again. Whores can be saints. Girl scouts become hookers. Murderers and drunks and serial rapists are now God fearing, patriotic young business men.
That's why trusting anyone at face value is a big mistake. Observe.
HIM: Would you ever try and screw me over in some manner?
ME: I might try to screw you.
HIM: You would put me in a vulnerable state.
ME: You're always fucking vulnerable. That's the stupidest thing to be.
HIM: Yea okay. Again, we can compare notes later in life. That's all I'm going to argue on the matter.
ME: I'm not arguing. I just feel like a little girl and you're acting like an old man. It's zapping my fucking energy.
It's true. All the energy I once had is now long gone. The laws of entropy are slowly working against me. Moving requires more effort than standing still. Standing still requires more effort than laying down. Laying down requires more effort than being dead. So clearly, being dead is the ideal state of nature. It is what we are all working towards so diligently in our 9 to 5's every fucking day of the week. To really accomplish something in life is to die. Death represents the end of the biological play list. No more music, no more songs, just wonderfully incomplete silence.
I am learning what it means to be still. To think and not speak. To look and not love. I've removed myself from living as I used to know it. Life is far too complicated. Full of all sorts of people that I can't fucking (under)stand. If I pretended to give a shit that would only serve to complicate matters.
Stoicism here I come.