Crazy times, huh? It's 4am and I'm sitting starting to think about writing again. It seems that at times like these, the only coping mechanism is really to write it all down. If I don't I can't even really begin to dissect my own thoughts and understand why things happen the way they do.
See sometimes I stop and I think about the amount of time we spend wishing that things were different: like we spend our entire day whittling away over a petty little pursuit of something bigger, faster, better in some way. The truth is you will always miss someone or something, and probably always wish that even the smallest thing in your life was just a little bit different. The happiest people I've ever met are somewhat nonchalant and directionless.
Then I realize that I'm thinking about thinking and doing nothing at all.
If I'm going to be totally honest with you, things are looking slightly awry. It's the humanity of it all: the fact that all of us have to die in some sense or another in order to actually live. Whenever I disappoint the people I care about I die a little more inside. Toss it away: Be vicarious, victorious and brave! Triumph! And then laugh at the triviality of the fact that you spent so much time wondering and nothing ever came to be.
I woke up this morning with a pounding headache and I knew that the wine was to blame. I lay for a while in the dust thrown up by my own indecision and thought about the consequences of whatever it was that happened to me in the last 24 hours. I thought until my mind hurt and that's when I started to write. I know I've taken the long road with all of this, kid. You don't need to tell me twice. I always kinda figured I'd be the one to take the long road in pretty much anything. But what I've realized is you can try to do the best thing you can at every possible junction but people aren't going to care about the truth. They care about whatever validates their fucking existence in some little way. Give them something to be mad about, or something to laugh at. If they don't have that from somebody else then where could it possibly come from?!
I wouldn't bother with the truth much further. One day none of it will ever even matter.
So what is the takeaway from all of this? Perhaps as people we are all too consumed with our own loneliness and inner process that we refuse to see the external. Surely anything without too much analysis would be boring, huh?
The takeaway is; be honest with yourself and who you are. Don’t ever apologize for the way that someone perceives your action: they are ultimately only trying to understand their own projected expectation. Be brave. Seek your own validation. Boldness will be rewarded.
And if it doesn’t, and if nothing of this is true… at least we are closer to that one conscious thought.