Just some random words that came out of my pen recently...
I've always know that I had problems. Hell, the lead in my pencil just snapped on writing the first letter of this first sentence. The first letter of the first sentence of whatever it is that I am writing.
So: problems. I've always known that I had them, there's something that's not quite right inside my head. I used to think that the best way to deal with problems was to fix them. Leaky tap, call a plumber. Leaky brain, who do you call? I came to a realisation - nothing is ever fixed. The best you can hope for is a temporary patch-up. That tap will start leaking again, sooner or later.
I feel like mickey mouse as the sorcerors' apprentice. I sort out one problem, sure, but then it picks itself up and comes back at me tenfold; they multiply. When we're not looking they must be shagging like rabbits. I can try and fix them all I want, but they just keep on marching forwards, buckets in hands, waiting to pour a whole load more shit over me.
Once you accept the fact that you cannot fix problems, everything appears to become a whole lot easier. It feels nice in a way, to detach yourself from everything and just accept the fact that your problems aren't going to go away, rather, they quite like it here and have invited all of their friends.
We stress ourselves out quite a lot. We do this because it is part of the human condition. We have an arrogant intrinsic belief that we are in control. We believe that we are powerful. We are in control, and therefore there is nothing that we cannox fix.
Clearly, this is a rather strange facet of our being. If I were more religious, I would say that it is the biggest practical joke in history, bestowed lovingly upon our persons by the man himself.
We are in control of nothing, but as humans, cannot accept the fact, and so constantly try to kid ourselves that we are not merely surviving in total chaos.
Delusions of grandeur. We are self-aware, and therefore bestow upon ourselves a sense of importance as a quick fix for the completely overwhelming paranoia and dread caused by the fact that we know nothing about anything.
Why can't we just accept the facts? We can't fix anything and problems keep on coming.
I even tried ignoring everything. Most of the traumatic events in my life have been resolutely ignored, compressed into some horrible little corner of what I choose to call my mind. Sometimes I get this dull hollow nauseating ache, from my throat to the pit of my stomach, but it's not like I can do anything about it. No-one has the answers. We are all in our own little nightmare, despite what you would like to believe. All you can really do is distract yourslef as much as possible. Getting fucked usually helps. Like I said, I'm not religious, but there had better be something that makes it worthwhile going through all this shit.
I hear what you're thinking... It's not all that bad. This is true. There are nice things in the world, like family. Again, though, problems. Family don't live forever, and there's nothing you can do to remedy that situation. Is it better to have loved and lost? I can't see it being that fantastic to wind up an old man who has seen everyone he has ever loved disappear in one way or another. I am very young, and already certain people have gone out of my life, leaving gaping holes full of that hollow feeling. If that happens enough times, maybe that's all you'llhave left.
I have family. I love them all dearly. I love them more than my own life. Still, I can't help but feel a constant undertone of terror, and a little voice in my head saying, "What's going to happen next?"
I can't sleep. Night is the worst time. I'm alone with my own head. I can't lie in bed on my own without holding on. I think incessantly; horrible stuff. I feel nauseous. I wish someone could fix me, but no-one has any answers.
I am an animal. I am an animal that has been forced to conform to the rules of a society that is in no way able to produce and support healthy happy animals. This is the reason I always get the urge to jump in front of that train. You know the feeling, standing on an edge with a drop in front of you, why do you lean forwards ever so slightly? This is the reason I get images in my head that are worthy of A Clockwork Orange. Totally unwanted, involuntary thoughts - what would it be like to walk over there and smash his head in?
These thoughts and feelings are a product of the lives we lead. We are not comfortable in our lives. We are going against our nature by following the rules. This is the reason that everybody is screwy. Society has turned me into a neurotic little bundle of fun who can't sleep at night. Thank-you society. We should have never left the oceans; fish don't blow each other up over religious differences. Fuck all of this. Stop the ride, I want to get off.
So: problems. I've always known that I had them, there's something that's not quite right inside my head. I used to think that the best way to deal with problems was to fix them. Leaky tap, call a plumber. Leaky brain, who do you call? I came to a realisation - nothing is ever fixed. The best you can hope for is a temporary patch-up. That tap will start leaking again, sooner or later.
I feel like mickey mouse as the sorcerors' apprentice. I sort out one problem, sure, but then it picks itself up and comes back at me tenfold; they multiply. When we're not looking they must be shagging like rabbits. I can try and fix them all I want, but they just keep on marching forwards, buckets in hands, waiting to pour a whole load more shit over me.
Once you accept the fact that you cannot fix problems, everything appears to become a whole lot easier. It feels nice in a way, to detach yourself from everything and just accept the fact that your problems aren't going to go away, rather, they quite like it here and have invited all of their friends.
We stress ourselves out quite a lot. We do this because it is part of the human condition. We have an arrogant intrinsic belief that we are in control. We believe that we are powerful. We are in control, and therefore there is nothing that we cannox fix.
Clearly, this is a rather strange facet of our being. If I were more religious, I would say that it is the biggest practical joke in history, bestowed lovingly upon our persons by the man himself.
We are in control of nothing, but as humans, cannot accept the fact, and so constantly try to kid ourselves that we are not merely surviving in total chaos.
Delusions of grandeur. We are self-aware, and therefore bestow upon ourselves a sense of importance as a quick fix for the completely overwhelming paranoia and dread caused by the fact that we know nothing about anything.
Why can't we just accept the facts? We can't fix anything and problems keep on coming.
I even tried ignoring everything. Most of the traumatic events in my life have been resolutely ignored, compressed into some horrible little corner of what I choose to call my mind. Sometimes I get this dull hollow nauseating ache, from my throat to the pit of my stomach, but it's not like I can do anything about it. No-one has the answers. We are all in our own little nightmare, despite what you would like to believe. All you can really do is distract yourslef as much as possible. Getting fucked usually helps. Like I said, I'm not religious, but there had better be something that makes it worthwhile going through all this shit.
I hear what you're thinking... It's not all that bad. This is true. There are nice things in the world, like family. Again, though, problems. Family don't live forever, and there's nothing you can do to remedy that situation. Is it better to have loved and lost? I can't see it being that fantastic to wind up an old man who has seen everyone he has ever loved disappear in one way or another. I am very young, and already certain people have gone out of my life, leaving gaping holes full of that hollow feeling. If that happens enough times, maybe that's all you'llhave left.
I have family. I love them all dearly. I love them more than my own life. Still, I can't help but feel a constant undertone of terror, and a little voice in my head saying, "What's going to happen next?"
I can't sleep. Night is the worst time. I'm alone with my own head. I can't lie in bed on my own without holding on. I think incessantly; horrible stuff. I feel nauseous. I wish someone could fix me, but no-one has any answers.
I am an animal. I am an animal that has been forced to conform to the rules of a society that is in no way able to produce and support healthy happy animals. This is the reason I always get the urge to jump in front of that train. You know the feeling, standing on an edge with a drop in front of you, why do you lean forwards ever so slightly? This is the reason I get images in my head that are worthy of A Clockwork Orange. Totally unwanted, involuntary thoughts - what would it be like to walk over there and smash his head in?
These thoughts and feelings are a product of the lives we lead. We are not comfortable in our lives. We are going against our nature by following the rules. This is the reason that everybody is screwy. Society has turned me into a neurotic little bundle of fun who can't sleep at night. Thank-you society. We should have never left the oceans; fish don't blow each other up over religious differences. Fuck all of this. Stop the ride, I want to get off.