Well, hello there. It’s been long enough since I’ve written to you. I find the best times to write are when you have a lot on your mind, but you’re not quite sure where you want to lead yourself.
So, what’s it all about? Eh? Familiarity is a funny thing. It’s nearly halfway through 2009 now and if the first bit is anything to go by, this year presents itself to be an entertaining one.
Have you ever felt at any moment that you are dreaming up this existence? You’re walking down a street, or driving your car when all of a sudden you think about yourself and how you are perceived by the people around you and you wonder – is it all pretend? Are we under an illusion of sorts, in which we are led to believe that we continue to exist, when actually, we don’t really have a place in this world anymore. I know I started that out as a question but perhaps this needs to lie as it does - a statement of provocation. We need more of those.
Take a second to understand your friends and yourself. Evaluate and assess the dynamic you possess, or think to possess and speculate whether it could get better than this. It probably can. You’re probably sitting atop a whole mess of junk and nobody has the cahones to pick it apart, one by one and sort it all out. Not even me.
For once in my life, I’d like to feel absolutely limp. As a puppet, perhaps, only directed by strings and sticks and my every action manipulated. Your actions are always manipulated, of course. The worst bit is when you manipulate yourself and don’t even know it. Those folk are the sufferers. But who am I kidding? I like feeling this way. I like thinking I’m in control and I like believing I’m not a puppet. In fact, I even go to lengths to rebuke and berate these so called puppets and think to myself, ever so cynically, why don’t they learn? Why don’t they question? Why don’t they understand? What is it that separates me from them? What is it that separates our entire fucking existence? Subjectivity? Bah.
We’re free, you and I. Free in a cage. Do you see how I see it? Do you see at all? Filthy, blind, deaf and mute bastards. Unfeeling, yet sensitive to change. Sensitive to each other, sensitive to themselves. How is it of any consequence?
Right. I seem to have a lot of pent up writing to expel. I try very hard to remain stoic in social situations. I come off sociable and interactive, but all the while refraining from actually engaging in a conversation of conviction. Why, I ask myself and I know the answer already. I’m done. I’m done having to feel like these things matter, and that we’re all really here to help each other figure this massive puzzle out. Piece by piece, brick by brick, each of us has something invaluable to offer and we’re not about to stop proclaiming it for the world to know. We want recognition for our genius and that’s perfectly understandable. But just for one moment, imagine that what you have to say or show or explain to your collocutor is absolutely pointless and borderline retarded. Wow, maybe that’s a little harsh. But honestly, you reach a point where it’s refreshing to find someone who doesn’t pretend to have thought of everything. Maybe I need to pick up a job at a school because I’ve obviously found myself in the most hypocritical of situations: where I want to teach and not be taught.
Unless of course it’s someone like Bill Hicks.
