My rantings and ravings. Well, the ones you're allowed to see anyways. Beware, they're cryptic.
How Sane Are Distractions.
Published on October 7, 2004 By RandomPhilosophies In Philosophy
I've been running late to everything. Sometimes I find it too hard to leave. Sometimes I find it too hard to go to, as if some maniacal force is keeping me away. Usually, I find I'm fighting with myself over my identity.

So sue me. I'm twenty. And fuck you too.

So like I was saying, I can't seem to get to where I'm going. Hah, (says you), isn't that just the story if life?

But, (says I - soaked in caffeine but oh-so-tired), the passage of time is irrelevant. Ultimately, we cannot exercise any control over it. When time lapses, so goes it. No amount of wishful thinking can effect change in the spin of the world or the quiet stir of the universe.

So, (I continue, reaching for a cigarette or five), I can tangle myself into the quirks of life I've been thrown. Like a hideous, trendy shawl, they cover me temporarily but cannot hide the lump of life beneath them. Shapeless and useless, I spin with the world and await the moment where I can announce "Good god, it's happened." Until that time, I'm given allowances. I can't fight my humanity.

But wait a second.

Humanity is supposedly undefinable. In our ridiculous search for meaning (which we can never find as it was never really lost) we theorize that humans are so fortunate to be given emotions and choice. Our complete indecisiveness and our senses of humor separate us from the rest of the animal world, or so we want to believe. (And hey, look, opposable thumbs!) All the same, I have never personally encountered a more contradictory concept

The moment I can actually choose the way I feel will either lay on display or entirely demolish my humanity.

(And not a moment too soon, I say!)

Two years ago, I asked for a lot. I wanted one thing more than anything else fathomable: to shut off entirely. Since that time, I've considered myself lucky to have failed at achieving such an unattainable goal. A reach for the stars, right? I never made it. I probably never will. Good, then. I deserve to be exactly where I am, in whichever dramatic way that was meant.

... and anyway, if I ever got there, I'd get there late.

So let me be distracted. Man only wants to play the fiddle, after all.

I need to make tea and watch the Simpsons now. It started 10 minutes ago.

Comments
on Oct 07, 2004
Just reading that makes me tired of trying to have an impact on things around me... your twenty...and I'm only eighteen, does this mean that I have 2 more years of trying to figure out who I am! Ahhh.