(no subject)
Is that my bed shaking or my leg trembling? Is that me breathing or my computer buzzing? My sister suggested that I was going crazy for having brief conversations with people on my unplugged phone. I suppose it made me a little paranoid, afterall. Words have a funny way of doing that. They infiltrate the conscious like little mines, waiting to be set off by the slightest exposure. The teachers and textbooks are all awfully wrong about the artform of argument. I call it an artform. They call it a technique or a skill or whatever. I call it an artform because I see it as something very much more subjective and unexplainable. I never try to win an argument or try to convince people of something. Things don't work like that. People are too proud to admit to being convinced of anything. I rather see the artform of argument as knowing just how to plant little ideas so that they will sprout when the time is right- like mines with little explosions that set off other mines. I can go on rambling about the most random things and people will think I'm crazy but goddammit I know the little discreet seeds of knowledge will sprout. Words are dangerous like that. Ten years from now, from this day- at this time, you'll find yourself having a mental breakdown on account of something I said. I'm damn reckless with these words that people think I throw about so carelessly- so 'randomly'. Maybe a lot of people are. No. A lot of people are, I know that. People have different ways of doing it. People that play with words are power-hungry, controlling, manipulative. Most of us just get a real kick out of doing it. I rarely even know what the effect of my word mines are- sometimes I know- but usually I don't. I'm more something of a kid left alone in a chemistry lab- looking for whatever combination will give me the biggest explosion. Sure, things explode in my face. I'm absolutely and obsessively preoccupied with the practice of it, though. Call it a defense mechanism, if you will- things may explode in my face- but I am never the subject of my own experiments. I am a dangerous friend to have, perhaps. And harmless at the same time. Harmless, that is, if you understand what I'm doing. But if you are such a person, then it doesn't make much sense why you would have me as a friend rather than just to avoid me. Maybe people sense that I'm too clever and avoid me. I am always somewhat in control of all of my interactions in that I have the objectivity of the pure scientist to look down upon my subjects as they respond, no matter how they respond. And even still, I have the objectivity to look down upon the scientist. But when it comes down to it, I'm a pretty bad scientist and a pretty lousy friend because I have no clue what I am doing with other people- I'm just a kid who knows enough to throw together strong chemicals to get explosions. I have more control over myself. That's why I talk to nobody on the phone. On the unplugged phone. Complete control. Except these minor disturbances when I doubt myself and think that perhaps I'm not so objective as I think- just crazy. I don't know what to think sometimes. Reality can get blurry but usually everything comes back into focus. But will it always? That's what scares me. I don't want to lose control over myself. That's the one thing over which I have control. Complete control. I'm not crazy. Far from it.