I'm trying to write and I feel like I'm choking, like my throat is dry and I am tired and what I have to say probably doesn't matter that much, anyway. I want to say that I never really thought it mattered, but some part of me does, anyway.
It's true, I am a little bit of a narcissist. But your mother was always right, those of us who exude confidence are the ones who have painted the picture around themselves that everything is exactly as it should be. They are magicians of their own mind, and their extraordinary delusions make them absolutely fascinating.
I like to imagine worlds where words mean different things, like a world in which systematic murder is a really great thing, or a world in which you were punished for trying to save each other. I don't mean to be dark, it's just an honest question- what would people be like, if these were the rules?
I am not totally sure what a lot of the rules are, here and now. Delusion is a strange thing and it's dangerous territory. As I try to understand the context of my actions from as many different perspectives as possible, part of me just likes to believe that this library of perspectives has morphed into this monstrous meta-perspective all covered in tattoos, and veiny and totally kick ass.
It likes to imagine worlds where things are different, where people use their interconnectedness to make the world a better place. It likes to imagine a world where we could be proud to be human beings again. And I don't mean to be naive, it's a serious question - what would people be like if these were our goals?
I see the world through a filter of awesome experiences and tragedies and reckonings. I see it happening. I have been many mythological versions of myself and from where I am sitting, my life has been like riding a roller coaster on a day when the conditions are perfect and you're still young and naive enough to feel like you might die, so your body is marinating you in chemicals that make all the atoms in your body want to fuck all the atoms in the universe.
