Raise your glass to the thrilling whirl of ugliness, beauty and sheer banality
Fearometer: 5 (the marshmallow of apathy's powers are far ranging and mysterious)
I don't think I'll ever be able to separate the thought that the feeling of love or sadness is true with the haunting belief that i've talked myself into it. And maybe the two are indestinguishable. And so perhaps the only thing left is to trust things as they are, in the clarity of that one moment.
I sense that I am I just embarking on this or that as Im bored, as I have to fill my life with something, and entangle myself in it in some way. I get trapped and caffled and I realise that I am an irremovable in all this, which I somehow resent. I feel embarrassed doing this, like a small child, caught doing something forbidden. Although it all feels as an act, watching through one way glass is not allowed. Its an experiment which I am the subject of, the result of which I don't want to ever discover.
Chemical happiness is a wonderful thing – it gives you the motivation to do nothing at high speed. Which is, granted, a step forward. Although it is rather hard to blog whilst in that giddy state. Blogging alas, requires disinterested melancholy. You are lifted up above the course of life bustleing below. Everything is funny, although somehow less sweet. Things slide from view, how funny, how incredibly funny! You reach down, attempting to grasp hold of something below, just to relate to things on earth for a while, but they are just too far below…
And then the realisation
My mind is beautifully ruined.