Monday, June 16, 2008
Splunk! Whatever sound that is (reminiscent of days eating with clumsy hands and the metal spoon), it now signifies nothing and is irrelevant to what I'm about to say. Actually, I was about to say nothing so since it is relevant to nothing it is still significant. Haha, tired already? Cause I'm just getting started (with nothing) =D
So...title erosion. What of?
See, where my thoughts originate this is a major veeder-feister (meaning some sort of problem in some other unidentified language). He came. He thought. He conquered (or typed). But he could not choose the title. Not because he couldn't, but because it couldn't be done (no excuses allowed for being able to do it makes convenient living). Why? Because after over-ambitious returns to the wrong state of mind, he finally stopped, tagging along with him thoughts that even he hadn't thought about and a title for each and every one of them. So...the title of this entry is aptly named =)
Isn't it too much sometimes? I've come to discover in recent weeks that expressing isn't always helpful. Sometimes our norms of de-stressing can be quite painful when exposed to the world like rust. Sometimes...it just hurts.Its hurts because when the words try to pour out, your jug of thought in motion is bone dry and now you've failed even yourself. Who is yourself anymore? You sit in a blank room and you don't even know if the blank is white or black and if you imagine a colour-less blank then the kind of bother normally associated with expanding the imagination that much doesn't bother you because now you don't know if there even is anything to bother. It is eternal, descriptionless pain brought on ourselves by making the wrong decisions.
Living in poverty is hard, but its a normal problem. Living under abuse is hard, but its a normal problem. Living without a leg is hard, but its a normal problem. Don't assume by normal I mean common, unworthy of interest and unimportant. They are normal in the sense that everyday emotions (however extreme) are expressed outwardly and people can relate to them in some way or another. But not knowing yourself, your name, your purpose, or even if its YOU under your own skin (or is it someone else and you're in another world but its still you?) - there is NOTHING normal about that. That is when you've lost everything you ever had.
Unlike physical pain or illness, there is no distraction from this state. Even in the busiest moments (best or worst) you're kept prickingly concious of who you no longer are and what you can no longer do and no longer have interest in. By definition of loosing your character, that would be mostly everything.
Its the end of the day and tomorrow's a decision I don't want to make.
Just thought I should let the world know, incase anybody was counting on me.