So here they are, all the old posts from the original site. Take them all with a grain of salt, since I wrote them in what feels like a lifetime ago.
WEDNESDAY, JULY 28, 2004
hmmm
ok, so i have been staring at the title entry line for the last ten minutes, and nothing is coming. i was going to do one of those clever things, but i opted against it. how lame is it to not come up with something clever and original, and so you cheap out and do something like that, but then still think that its tricky. its lame enough that even i wont do it.
i was going to start doing a series of blogs where i did nothing but troll blogger for blogs that were particularly noteworthy in the jasonesque sense of the word. such as:
another draggy dae. sch sch sch . lectures lectures lectures. tutorial tutorial tutorial. bored bored bored.
entertained tse chiew as usual . haha. jia le is fun too. luv their acccompany sOoOOo much tt its beyond words.
went J8 wif jiale after sch todae. duo luo together again. doubt theres a nid to elaborate e details la. went popular for pens n files. considered shoppin yA? haha. proceed to muji for pens again . pens pens pens. im addicted to it . ani waes to break tis habit ?
but come on, that makes fun of itself. theres nothing left to say. i think looking at the above is pretty self explanatory. more skewering is not necessary.
besides, going around and picking on what people write is 1) not that hard 2) not that original and 3)pretentious. i fear that my blogs would become nothing more than tom clancy novels, pumped out one after another, saying the same thing over and over again. and i dont want that. i dont want to sell out. especially when im not even getting paid for this.
so, im going to move on from the whole making fun of blogs idea, and go back to just kind of writing about whats on my mind. sorry.
a friend of mine, and you know who you are, has been wanting a shout out in this thing for a while now. well, here is your spotlight. we were talking earlier today (actually as i am writing this – thanks for distracting me), and she said
oh well, i guess it’s just something else to put up with
to which i replied, life is nothing more than a series of things to put up with. because if you think about it, how much of your life is spent doing the things that you want to do. that you enjoy. what makes you happy. not much. its very depressing.
you put up with a job 9-5 5 days a week. most have to work outside of these hours in addition. all of this, so that you can live “free” for a couple crappy tired hours before you pass out asleep, to rinse and repeat as unnecessary.
when did life get like this? when did life become less about living, and more about scraping by? who came up with this idea, and why did people listen to it?
we rationalize it all away, saying how even though our life is bad, someone else has it worse. that life isnt all about fun and happiness, that there are more important things, like responsibility or obligation or sacrifice. we use religion to reinforce these ideals, this cage, upon ourselves.
how it got to be this way, i dont know, but i want to undo it all. people criticize you if you dont buy into this scheme, and say that you need to grow up and face the real world, but what is the real world? artificial standards and rules and expectations that we place upon ourselves? is that whats real? whats real is the time that we have, and the people we have to spend it with. whats real is that the clock is ticking, and that we only get one shot at it all.
we need to change. to unadapt. to turn our back on the trap of comfort, and live life again.
FRIDAY, JULY 23, 2004
blogs of note
you might recall, if you are one of the three people that semi-regularly reads this thing, that i mentioned that this service has what are called “blogs of note”, or something along those lines. these are the blogs that the workers at google want you to read. they are the pinnacle of blogness. this is that i should be aiming for:
In Death I See Life
In Life I See Death
The Sweet Relief That I Long
The Hush Of Whispering wings
Have come to Take Me
Away, away
ok, so thats boarderline deep. deep in the sense that when you look at it, at first you cant wrap your mind around it. because face it, if something is deep, that doesnt mean that it makes sense, or that it really says anything. deep, as i have seen it so defined many times over, means saying something that sounds complex because in the end it makes no sense. but, you say this shit to someone just like you, and they think that you have redefined life as we know it. thats “deep”.
how exactly is death life? explain to me how this works. i know that i propose some messed up stuff sometimes, and that i dont exactly have a rosey outlook on life, but please explain to me how death is life and life is death.
i guess if you believe in the afterlife, it makes sense. it also makes sense that you are more than likely going to be very disappointed.
sorry.
so the title of this all black and grey blog which expouses such a deep understanding of the true nature of life and death is:
death is only the beginning.
ok, so im guess that this person is in a lot of pain, emotionally or physically. perhaps lived a life that was full of remorse and regret, and he or she desperatly needs a release. perhaps they were abused, neglected, or whatever. maybe im being to harse on this guy. im writting him off as a yuppy, and dismissing his knowledge as trivial and shallow, when maybe i could learn something from it.
voices call me SHARON
in pain for 14 years
egg cracked 23rd july 1990
yearns for HAPPINESS but doesnt seem to ged any
want to die wifout regrets
cant live wifout: food and sleep`
nope. there goes that. so much for the benefit of the doubt.
what, may i ask, could possibly drive a 14 yo girl to believe that life is death, etc yada yada yada. i cant even type it over again. little jimmy didnt hold her hand before the 4th period bell rings? they ran out of salisbury steak at lunch before she could get some? i mean people, come on.
now, the problem is that this little girl thinks that she is deep, and that she epressing her true feelings of angst and despair. her insight into the nature of things is guided and true. her gothic uniform is not a uniform, but an expression of individuality.
right.
those arent her feelings. they are feelings cultivated for her. some friend of hers watched the crow one too many times and something snapped in his head. they start thinking that stuffs cool at the ripe old age of 12 or 13. they listen to some manson, theyre having some fun and feeling different. see a couple more movies, start hanging out at suncoast video and hot topic, and bam. their spending their allowance to fight the establishment of life.
the establishment that dresses them, gives them their thoughts, their music, this philosophy, their ideals.
have you ever seen a real live goth over the age of 20? no. of course not. because the movement is a marketing machine, designed to prey on the natural feelings of preteens, to eat kids up and spit them out 7 years later with less money, no friends, and a fucked up outlook on life.
so, next time you are in a mall, and you pass one of these stores – my personal favorite is the hot topic for fat kids. good lord. its a gold mine. its a whole store designed at selling the uniform to the most insecure of them all. nothing is better than a 13 yo pasty fat kid in a XXXL shirt that says “Hey Look, the Circus is in Town. Let’s Go See if Your Mom is Working.” nothing. Anyways, next time you pass one of these stores, take out a stick and smack them with it. tell them to at least find a decent subculture to sell their soul to. i hear the mods need some fresh blood. not that theyre much better.
god. and this is what is better than my blog? maybe life is death afterall.
MONDAY, JULY 19, 2004
its been a whlie
its been a while since ive written anything here, so i dont know exactly where it is that i should go about beginning. i have so much to say, and yet i feel completely empty. i guess the trick is to start something and to keep going. that, and to have very low expectations. if i set the bar to high on just how clever it is that i want to come across as, then ill get a paragraph or two into whatever im writing, go back and read it, and delete the whole thing. im serious. this is the fourth time i have started this stupid entry. quality control is a bitch. dont expect much this time around.
ive come to a conclusion.
well, not really.
its hard to call something a conclusion when i dont feel like there was ever anything to wrap up.
its not an epiphany either. that would grant some sort of validity or worth to the following statement.
i just dont think that it deserves such a lofty title.
brain fart isnt quite right either; too catchy and humorous on purpose, but i guess that it will have to do.
so, after all this, here it is.
philosophy is empty. hollow. bullshit. a scam.
sorry if thats a let down. i knew you would be disappointed.
now, im supposed to be a phil major. im supposed to believe in this stuff. but for some reason, im having a hard time doing that. and heres why.
the other night, i was talking to some people, one of whom also happened to be a phil major. i was talking about how i felt that philosophy had become some name dropping session. no one thought for themselves anymore (but, i guess no one ever truly thinks for themselves anyways), they just recite what someone in australia with a well known name thinks. the counter argument to that is just another name. people know what each of these philosophers believes, and they use them to debate one another. they do this because it seems smarter and more sophisticated to discuss what someone famous believes, rather than to just mention your own ideas (if they ever are your own). because doing that makes you sound like a stoned freshman. and no one is ever going to publish a stoned freshman.
this conversation led back to another conversation that i had with some different people at an earlier date. we were at a bar, and wanting to sound smart, and so we are debating the nature of god, man, logic, quantum, you name it. if it sounded pretentious, we were all over it.
and i noticed something. not that i hadnt noticed it before, but i had never really acknowledged it. it was always in front of my face, but i just looked past it. like a cop trying to solve a triple rape homicide drug binge case, mulling over the same information over and over and over again. hes racking his brain, but cant see it. and then out of the blue it hits him.
yeah, thats it. thats the moment i had.
it had oscar written all over it.
all the fancy theories in philosophy, all of the logical argumentation, the thought experiments, its all a facade. when you strip away all of the working surrounding a philosopher, you get someone with a set of beliefs. man is good. man is bad. god is a jackass. god cant be a jackass, because he doesnt exist. all of it. it came from somewhere, and there is no way to prove anything either way. at the very base level, the most philosophers could do is agree to disagree.
and yet, on top of these horribly subjective assumptions about everything, they pile objectivity and theory and logic, until you cant see the assumptions anymore.
but whats the point of doing calculus if 2+2 may or may not be 4? whether or not it does depends on if you were beaten, where you were born, if you nursed too long. to some its 4. to some its 5. to some it depends on which number best suits the whole.
there is none. no one would suffer through calc if it worked this way. philosophy is supposed to be getting to the most basic of human and universal truths through objective dialogue, but its all just a house of cards waiting to be blown over. in the end, it all doesnt mean anything, because everything relies on assumptions that can never be proven or reconciled.
so where has philosophy gotten me? no where. i know nothing. and i never will change that fact. in the end, knowledge can never be attained. not like we want to believe that it can be.
but screw it. what do i know. dont listen to me. im probably just saying this because i fell off my bike as a kid and my mother didnt hold me enough.
WEDNESDAY, JULY 07, 2004
coffee
ok. so i got coffee. coffee on lay-a-way, to be exact. how sad am i. anyway, now i am more awake than i was. not saying much, but its better than before.
im still dealing with the concept of this blog. im actually arrogant enough to think that i can think something, and that it is worth your time to read. its not like you and i are in conversation, and these ideas come to me on the fly. i actually think on my own (unoriginally of course), come back, write things down, and then expect you to read them. still seems pretentious. oh well. i guess im doing this more for me than you anyways, as if that makes it better.
i watched blade runner the other night, and it got me thinking. 80s movies always have dark, dirty grimy depictions of the future. Nothing is left but cities, with gigantic corporate towers that stand as golden calves devoted to greed. towers like the tower of babel, those that will once again bring the wrath of god upon mankind. as if they should only be so lucky.
there are always massive flames coming out of evil spires; the results of incenerators on every block dealing with overpopulation.
electric signs are the only halos to be seen in the world. angels have left, along with any sense of hope. you can still see their wake left in the overly thick and oppresive smog that hangs like the devils breath.
sounds nice, doesnt it.
if you notice, thats not how things are going. the 80s misunderestimated the power of absolute greed. in the 80s, decadence was part of the equation. corporations needed massive towers to show just how all powerful they were.
decadence simply isnt cost effective.
corporations have opted to move out of cities, into the outlying lands, and swap impressive buildings for more impressive bank rolls. telecommunications enable such a web to grow. instead of complete and absolute urbanization, we get a world-smothering net cast over us.
yet, corporations try to project the future as clean, pretty, and bright as possible. vibrant crisp logos and promotions are their way to lull us into their confidence. bp has the green and yellow flower emblem. shell uses nature, islands, blue sky, and animals to show what a great future lies ahead with them in charge. insurance and banccorp companies show happy families, large yards, and crisp inspiring sunsets. just give us a little more money, a little more power, a little more control, and it will all be okay. i can hear the tiny voice whispering assurances to me as i write.
they make the future the opposite of the 80s prediction. even the movies reflect such a change. the future now is all brushed aluminium, all clear glass, all open and free. we are constantly moving upwards, outwards, and always towardsthe bettwe.
the 80s at least had it half right. we may not go the direction of terrible worlds covered in a blanket of death so thick that it is never light outside again, but at least they were honest about corporate intentions. the death that lay ahead. it was slow and terrible, but it was foreseeable. CEOs didnt even both to try and hide it.
the death we are headed to now is much worse. it is much more subtle, much easier to overlook. we will go to the same death, but we’ll think were free, and having fun doing it.
and all the while, someone somewhere will be making money off it.
back for the first time, again
ok, so i havent exactly been the most faithful about writing for the last couple days. but its been difficult. there was the whole three day weekend thing, the activities that entail, and i always end up sleeping until 2pm. I spend the whole occasion either asleep, or otherwise… occupied. regardless, the whole situation is not very conducive to me sitting down and coming up with original thoughts. if you can call this original even.
think about it. we’re born. we’re taught language. we’re socialized. we read things ranging anywhere from “everybody poops” to “1984″ to “war and peace” to Us weekly. We watch TV, listen to music, and do a million things where we, as professional observers, do just that. all this information, all this language goes in one ear, and if were lucky, doesnt go straight out the other. all of it just stays in your head, like an unwelcome houseguest that doesnt know when to leave. this has been happening since day one. the guest rooms are filling up on a daily basis.
and yet people still think there is originality? every artist cites other artists as their inspiration, every musician states that other musicians were key in their development. in their head – they hear, they see – the other works of art coming together. that doesnt mean that they even know this is happening. but it is. im doing the same thing right now. i think that this is original, that this is unique, that im clever and that all this makes me special. but its wrong, and im not. this here is nothing more than other people i’ve read, other people i’ve talked to, other movies that ive seen. and all the people that they have come in contact with through one medium or the other. whenever you talk to someone, you talk to every person that they have ever talked to. makes you want to use protection before you start a conversation with someone you dont know too well, doesnt it.
our lives are nothing more than conglomerates of previous actions by other people. who knows where and when it all started, but originality ended there. the creative arent special, they arent unique, and they certainly arent honest. they just process, copy, and collate better than everyone else. they sterilize and streamline life, for your protection.
think about that when you look at the world. my grandfather wasnt wrong from the truth – there aint much new under the sun. clever guy – wonder who he stole it from.
FRIDAY, JULY 02, 2004
all work and no play…
i thought that was an appropriate title. im to the point right now where i could very easily snap, write all over the office walls, and crack open the case to emergency fire axe. i seriously need a vacation.
so a reader yesterday made the comment to me that written word can suck the playfulness out of the material making it sound more bitter, less and less happy-cynical, and more “i hate the world”. he assumed that i didnt mean to convey that i hate the world. you know what they say about assumption.
ok, i guess i should qualify that last statement. i hate this world, not the world. the world – nature, people (for the most part), and all the other hippy stuff – is ok with me. were on good speaking terms. this world, the one i do hate, is the modern world.
the 9-5s
the 3 dollar cups of coffee
the spam
the fact that more people call me asking if i want to change my current phone plan than do people i know
the endless stacks of taxes and paperwork that consume your life
yes, this is where our ingenuity has gotten us.
what you make will inevitably destroy you.
beaurocracy is societys preferred form of self mutilation.
no society that is not bored would have the time for all this shit. you buy a car. its yours. you own it. end of story. 3 different departments, 2 days worth of paperwork, countless people without answers should not enter into the equation.
we simply have nothing better to do.
do you think that, in the face of immediate danger, any of this would matter? if man suddenly developed a new foe, and the world was not safe and dull and empty, you think anyone would notice if i did not fill out the proper annex form to the VT272? i didnt think so.
man needs an enemy. something to unite against.
it used to be who god was angry with.
it used to be nature.
it used to be someone that didnt look like you.
we killed god.
we dominated nature.
were still working on the predjudice. we just dont act openly on it anymore. thats bad for business.
we need a disaster.
a comet crashing into the ocean like a cosmic drunk driver, blindsiding us with the airbags turned off.
a massive volcanic eruption that gives the world a nice new pair of sunglasses.
an ice age.
anything.
please.
we need this. we need to shake things up. we need to be unboredified. we need to throw all this shit – credit, paperwork, taxes, civilization – right out the proverbial window.
start over
clean slate
i want a world where we can wake up free. truly free. no mass marketing. no paperwork. no taxes. no nothing. i wake up, enjoy life, enjoy my fellow man, and thats all i do. thats my job.
i want to be a professional human being.
we can make this happen.
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 30, 2004
doctors, kinda
ok, well, this is getting sad. i know that i like to write, but this is obscene. the number of people that chastized me for writing 1800 words yesterday was impressive. i didnt think that anyone would bother to read this thing, but i was wrong. too bad they only commented that i write too much. hows that for self esteem boosting feedback? i can hear the dollar signs dancing around in some shrinks head right now.
speaking of shrinks, they are kinda like doctors. and doctors are kinda like premed students. well, in the same vein that dead bodies and fertilizer are kinda like one another. one leads to next, but they essentially are the same thing in a different form. too dark for you? fine. like kittens turn to cats, or catepillars become butterflies. better? just like sugar and spice and everything nice ends up being the thing that stabs you in the back with the poolboy, but still somehow thinks that she deserves the car, the house, and half of all the taxable assests. didnt see that one coming, did you?
anyways, back to premeds. i had to work today, and i had the joy of working the checkout of a group of honors premed students. keep that word honors in mind. it doesnt exactly mean what you would think that it would mean. i thought that it would mean smart, but i was wrong. turns out all that all that honors means is that they will make more than the other people that are going to end up making more than me.
exhibit a. student comes into the commons at around 9:30, and buys a coke. one, the coke costs 85 cents. whats wrong with that, you ask. its a damn coke. its not cola flavored gold. if it was, then i would have no problem with the transaction, in fact, i would say kudos to you for getting a good deal. but its not. what sense does it make that i can go to most of the fine fast establishments, and for a dime more, get a taco, hamburger, cheeseburger, or something else like that. since when did it get cheaper to raise a beast the size of a daewoo, feed it for a year, and compress it into a patty (not to mention paying all the ex-con workers in the plants) than to mix a few chemicals and throw it in a metal can? did i miss something?
ok, ok, good point. most sodas arent 85 cents. you can get them for as low as 50 at most places.
bingo.
there you go.
you made my point for me.
this guy is supposed to be slicing me open when my heart fails from smoking, drinking, and sitting on my fat ass all day long, and yet he cant stock his fridge with the same crap but cheaper? what about tumor slowly devouring my body from too much radiation that we thought was harmless? mr. i dont need 35 cents is going to be adminstering my miracle? im going to go ahead and write my epitaph now, thank you very much. i think that im going to follow in royals tradition. itll say that i bravely saved the family that i dont have from a burning building while simultaneously completing a crossword in record time. ill be such a hero.
now, this isnt even what set me off. after sipping his overpriced soda, mr. future to be savior looks at me and goes, “is there a little boys wee wee room around here?”
i wish i was making this up.
no, for the sake of the future psych bills i dont wanna pay already, i wish i was making this up.
i say, i dont know about little boys, my parole officer says i cant go near them anymore. in that hallway, however, is a bathroom. he doesnt get my joke, looks scared for a minute, and walks off.
this is the man that is going to be saving my oh so worth it life.
not convinced on the honors not being worth crap yet? i thought you would say that.
ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit b.
last time i checked, the 3 floor phone toss is not a sport. i could be wrong, it could be on espn 8, the ocho, sandwiched between the waterskiing rodents and the clip show where they just show people beating one another with flaming sticks. but i doubt it. im pretty sure that they made this one up all on their little honors own.
girl a is on the grass of the wiess quad. girl b is on the third floor. b yells down to a, have you seen my cell phone? a says yes, and yells here. i blink, and shake my head really hard. i cant believe im seeing this. that annoying sprint pcs guy is right. i do need a video phone. telling you about this simply isnt enough. a chucks, in her little girly girl way, the phone up to the third floor. no, wait, the second and three fourths floor. aww, at least it was close.
i smile the biggest smile in years.
never has “shit!” sounded so sweet.
the phone bounces off the wiess ivy grating, and lands on the second floor.
crack.
the phone will never be the same.
but thats not all. a guy, c, walks by laughing, and tries to throw it up to b. again, second and three quarters. that last foot or two must have abnormal gravity.
clank.
back down to first. a picks it up and tries again. whiff. c makes a nice catch, and tosses it up to b. apparently he used enough force to overpower the incredible gravity barrier known as the third floor, and makes it to the girl. too bad she cant catch. smacks down onto the third floor.
by now they are all laughing, not really caring that they have completely destroyed a poor defensless phone. no regard for its feelings at all. no thought to the phones mother, who now is going to have to go through life knowing that she outlived her younger generation. and in electronics, thats a big deal.
yes, these three aspiring athletes are the ones in charge of rescuing me from recurrent colon polyps.
mr. wee wee is supposed to be making sure my liver doesnt fail by my 33rd birthday.
theyre all going to be in charge of pumping me full of pills to make sure that living life doesnt get in the way of it.
we are so screwed.
TUESDAY, JUNE 29, 2004
premature articulation
so here i am, day one, and this is my third posting. could have done more. this is rediculous. i need to watch myself. i dont need to come out in a blaze of glory, and blow my load too soon. last thing i need is to run out of steam too soon, to not go the distance so to speak. to prematurely articulate. maybe theres a pill for this.
i was thinking about the other day, when someone came into my office, and asked me if i was a student at rice. i said yes, with the sort of tiredness that comes from doing the same thing for three years. she asked me what i studied, so i told her. she goes “philosophy, wow, you must be smart”. right, you got it lady. wham, bam, right on the head. i tell her, im ok i guess. im no einstein, but then again, enstein wasnt either. history, and lots of hindsight, made him who he is. after all, he only had an 88 iq. and, as college applications tell us, test scores dont lie. i guess geniousness is subjective.
so, upon classifying me as a genius, since after all i can say the word philosophy, she says “so you must know what all this is about. why were here. so.. tell me. why are we?”
you have got to be joking.
im serious, you have got to be joking.
nope, she wasnt. she honestly thinks i have the answer. great, i have a reputation to live up to that i dont even know about. well, here goes..
there is no reason. none. zippo. being here is the same as not being here, in the cosmic sense of things.
just look at how her face falls. she actually was expecting for me to justify something in her life. instead, i just made it worthless. and i feel great about it. i ask her, anything else you wanna know? “no, ill just wait here until frank’s ready.” shes afraid to ask anything else. guess my expert advice just dropped its stock value.
later that night, i was thinking about what i said. of course at the time, i was being a smartass. i didnt know what to say, and so i said whatever i thought would sound the most insightful, and the most discouraging. but, as i mulled things over, it started to make sense. life doesnt have a point. one of two things is most likely the case:
a. god exists, as does the afterlife. by definition, he, she, it, whatever knows all. the rules for who gets in the vip room, and who gets left on the curb, are set out from the beginning. so, before he makes us, he knows where we end up. were either created to go to heaven or hell, and their aint much we can do about it. we play the cards were dealt. so, life, this 80 year waiting room, really doesnt amount to jack.
b. god exists, doesnt exist, doesnt matter. there is no afterlife. this is all weve got. in this case, all that matters is memory, since that is all that lets us know we exist. all the pain, all the joy, everything is meaningless without memory. god, life must suck if you forget shit. actually, no it doesnt, because you dont know what you dont know. that time in third grade, climbing up a rope in gym and you crap your pants? gone. the first time a girl shoots you down? never happened. the third time someone laughed at your man-needle? what are you even talking about. think about all the monet saved in shrink bills. makes me wanna slam my head into a braick wall just thinking about all the extra cash i wont need to spend.
anyways, when we die, we die and thats it. no memory. so nothing had a point.
so either way the proverbial cookie crumbles, life has no point. hmm. didnt see that one coming.
but before this sounds all doom and gloom, and you do something drastic, think about it. thats what makes life worth it. we have something completely irrational in our hands. living makes no sense, and yet thats what makes it so much fun.
im going to dedicate my life to not making sense, to not being rational, to living outside the box that no one sees but is still there. in the end, there is no point in being here, so why spend my whole life trying to make one? why not just live, and leave it at that? seems like a whole lot more honest and fun. and who thought that those two went together?
so there you have it, boys and girls. ive offically based my life philosophy on something i said while being an asshole to a security sales rep. doesnt that make me feel great about myself. im sure my grandchildren are going to be real proud of me one day.
intimidating
wow. i never thought that writing for a blog would be intimidating, but it can be. i log into my blog, and on the sidebar, the webmasters have listed “blogs of notice”, ones they recommend you read. that is to say, blogs that exemplify all the blogness that one should strive for. i didn’t come here to be judged – now when my blog isn’t recommended to others, that means that my blog is inferior to all others. thats like walking up to someone with a really big knife, and just lopping the top of their head right off. you look around for a little bit, closer ‘er back up, and then go, “meh, i’ve seen better. thanks for being sliced open though”. i hope they don’t select my blog for special notice – i want to be as imperfect as possible.
so i’ve started noticing that i have been restless here lately; i don’t know why either. what i think and what i feel normally match up, but here lately they haven’t. i don’t think that there is a more frustrating feeling than that. in your head, its all worked out, it all makes sense, all the eqations are balanced. yet, something feels missing. maybe life isnt supposed to be balanced, maybe we aren’t meant to be safe. because i have all that right now, and i find myself missing the excitement.
but, how much of what i feel is real anyways (and yes, i can see you all the way over there rolling your eyes, sensing the preteniousness coming on thick, watching me pull out my soapbox, and laughing. no, its not trying to be that kind of philosophy – they all just kinda head that way on their own), versus what i’ve been programmed to think. maybe excitement, newness, the desire for change, all those are leftover “emotions” developed by really good ad campaigns. im always supposed to be changing car insurance, detergent, the style of clothing that most defines me as a person – why should my goals, my friends, my life as a whole be any different? sameness, constancy, boredom – these are the bane of marketing execs. my life only exists to mold to their will, to buy their products to earn them money. who cares if my emotional well being suffers negative side effects?
i guess where i am going with this is that i am doubting free will. not saying that we never had it, but that it got lost in the translation somewhere. somewhere in all the things being sold to us, the idea that all our material objects need to change, maybe we learned on accident that all our immaterial objects need to be changed by the experation date too. so when you find “the thing”, its the one until the born on date rolls over, and then you start over.
i think im learning that science is wrong – you can’t judge the world on your senses. i thought that i could figure it all out by how i feel, but i dont think that i can anymore. i no longer know if the things i want are my free choice, or my programming. i guess the only way that i really can be free is to do the things i don’t want to.
the beginning
well, here is the beginning – there always has to be one. im going to try to keep the cheesiness to a miniumum. thats the problem with trying to write anything philosophical; there is a thin line between deep and just pretentious. anything can sound cliche, and anyone can sound like they are trying too hard. there are a whole lot of people out there that don’t know life, don’t know how to live, and certainly don’t know how to think. but, they create one hell of a sound bite. these are the people that get listened to the most.
i guess, since this is a beginning, i should make it a proper one. no sense in skipping over the into, and just jumping right into the thick of things. only get to begin once, so you gotta do it right.
not sure what this thing is going to turn out to be. im bored and at work right now, so i got the idea to start one of these things. im not going to be pouring my heart out or anything; the idea of a faceless keyboard spilling out emotions that are dead and gone for someone else, equally faceless, to read after the fact makes me go a big soft one. i guess i’ll jot down some story ideas, some philosophy ( the unpretentious kind only), and some random other things for flavor.
so, here we go. only get one beginning, everything after that is based on one moment. screw this up, and you might as well throw in the towel. three, two, one…
