It has been a good bit of time since I have felt the impetus to write. Generally, when I write something here, it comes like a bolt of lightning. Something comes into my head and I feel it is important enough to flesh it out with words, that it must be captured, and I feel impelled to do just that.
Usually I deal in abstract concepts, as I am trying to capture a ‘vibe’ most of the time. Language is a funny thing, and I find much of what I spend my time trying to express can only be roughly intimated with it, which is why I write the way I do. The method is a sort of philosophical discourse with myself intended to capture a certain essence that is a result of the sort of life that I lead and the reflections of reality that shows me.
This too hit me like lightning, but not as a point of philosophical contention or some crystallization of some formerly nebulous vibe, but as a realization. Maybe a grim realization. If I continue I may in fact go mad, or lose the ability to function within normal society.
People are judged by their limits, measured by them. People of all stripes rate human value based upon these. I have been described as having a bad attitude, being violent, a psycho, heartless, cruel, a loser, a failure, being crass, out of control, and much more, just for living and acting as I see fit, and maybe they are right. As time goes on, and I continue to practice what I preach, all this shit seems more foreign to me. Less important. Normal people are aliens, with alien values and alien culture. As I slide deeper and deeper into the abyss I find less and less common ground, less reason to wear a convincing mask. I feel a bit like a stranger in a strange land, and it’s only getting worse.
I keep tearing down the walls, digging to find the bedrock, and the cold realization is that there are no walls and that all is dirt has given me a long pause.
What ‘we’ are is defined by the limitations we give ourselves. Without them there is just the outer dark, the formless form.
The abyss really does stare back.