It's such a brutal planet
Posted on Sun Jul 08 19:12:00 UTC 2007
“Nothing can be so beautiful as man; nothing so ugly!” – Otto Weininger
I emerged, blinking, sheepish, shuffling alzheimers-like from the sorry cigarette butt dregs of another vicious bender. Neither a new high nor a new low. It was not even, I am sad to admit, a personal best. From midday to bleak midday. Twenty four solid Ritalin fueled hours of constant boozing punctuated by periodic violence and despair.
Not an important story really, or even a very interesting one unless you are hearing it for the first time and these kind of true crime tales of petty wretchedness either amuse or arouse you. Most people do not inhabit this world, they simply do not understand it – your entire life is just a car crash to them.
But it’s a fuck of a lot different living it. I have washed my face in heaven while my feet turned pink in hell. Last night, the early hours of the morning, staring once again down the barrel of another noose -- I guess you could say I am an unstable individual, one small thing and everything crumbles – last night I was thinking that none of anything I wrote carried any meaning, that all this shit which seems so important to me was worthless. It's a great big empty; one small thing falls over and everything else tumbles down.
Clarity and control kemosabe. That’s why I do it man. You gotta focus your mind to write, it’s a meditation. And control; well, words don’t just describe the universe, words create it. The facts can be framed in many different ways. Minds changed, opinions altered.
It works in a sense, but imperfectly, reflections in a wind blown puddle.
It’s kind of a crazy thing to have to realise, that you can’t control the entire world from behind your keyboard. Very strange, that I should ever have thought so in the first place.
---
Last night I kissed plato_hell and her lips were very sweet. Then she stopped me. It was hilarious really, she turned round everything I’d been saying said she couldn’t, said I’d feel bad in the morning. Protecting me from myself.
I don’t feel bad. The road to fucking hell man, it's paved with good intentions. That said I shouldn't do it again.
Besides, it was totally brokenphoenix's fault.
I emerged, blinking, sheepish, shuffling alzheimers-like from the sorry cigarette butt dregs of another vicious bender. Neither a new high nor a new low. It was not even, I am sad to admit, a personal best. From midday to bleak midday. Twenty four solid Ritalin fueled hours of constant boozing punctuated by periodic violence and despair.
Not an important story really, or even a very interesting one unless you are hearing it for the first time and these kind of true crime tales of petty wretchedness either amuse or arouse you. Most people do not inhabit this world, they simply do not understand it – your entire life is just a car crash to them.
But it’s a fuck of a lot different living it. I have washed my face in heaven while my feet turned pink in hell. Last night, the early hours of the morning, staring once again down the barrel of another noose -- I guess you could say I am an unstable individual, one small thing and everything crumbles – last night I was thinking that none of anything I wrote carried any meaning, that all this shit which seems so important to me was worthless. It's a great big empty; one small thing falls over and everything else tumbles down.
Clarity and control kemosabe. That’s why I do it man. You gotta focus your mind to write, it’s a meditation. And control; well, words don’t just describe the universe, words create it. The facts can be framed in many different ways. Minds changed, opinions altered.
It works in a sense, but imperfectly, reflections in a wind blown puddle.
It’s kind of a crazy thing to have to realise, that you can’t control the entire world from behind your keyboard. Very strange, that I should ever have thought so in the first place.
---
Last night I kissed plato_hell and her lips were very sweet. Then she stopped me. It was hilarious really, she turned round everything I’d been saying said she couldn’t, said I’d feel bad in the morning. Protecting me from myself.
I don’t feel bad. The road to fucking hell man, it's paved with good intentions. That said I shouldn't do it again.
Besides, it was totally brokenphoenix's fault.