first, i don't mean to offend anyone. second, i mean to offend everyone. the language is not professional. but neither is life.
I think:
my shadow is more me than me.
and I wonder,
does the outside reflect the inside?
no,
the one prostituted, the other true.
but you can't prostitute your outward self and not have it affect the inner self.
collateral damage.
the outside infects the inside, and pretty soon
we become what we spend so much time trying to appear
(what at first we were
only trying to appear)
because the two are inseparable.
::
two lives conjoined,
like the two sides of a sheet of paper:
an impression on one side
appears inversely on the other
and vice-versa.
::
but the realization comes too late.
and by the time you have any sense of all this you've wasted so much fucking time.
why do we aspire to be cardboard and paper dolls?
(
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3phsIEmKWbw)
we are self-censoring, image projecting cover-ups.
money and all this shit we do for it.
it makes things so...unreal.
we have to pretend in order to live.
it's so top down.
(
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Top-down_a ... ganization)
::
and yeah, I feel entitled to complain,
precisely because I do not feel it needs any special entitlement.
what if I don't like "the way things work"?
I don't want to go through some bullshit process of petitioning
for change that'll take years to actually happen
and many more months for some ineffective law to be effected - if at all.
my right to petition. great.
::
it's a machine.
we feed it so that it can feed us.
and we're all just feeding each other most of the time.
it's mostly an act to get fed.
to get fucked.
to get satiated. to get satisfied.
it's ugly.
(
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQntzqyde-w)
and I don't want it. but i'm in it. up to my neck and can hardly breathe.
i'm trying to be real.
of course, everything is "real."
but that's not what I mean.
i'm trying not to allow myself to be molded so completely by society.
society is a powerful force-
it's a jet-stream that pulls you along
and before you realize it you are playing the game
and can no longer remember creativity...inspiration...wonder.
the game.
some people call it "growing up."
false.
there is no reason growing up has to also suck the fucking life out of you.
maybe some people manage to retain themselves.
maybe this is what we're alluding to when we talk about keeping one's inner child,
i.e. remaining a child-at-heart.
as for me,
I've almost totally lost that part of me and I am - obviously - very bitter.
at who, at what, I don't know.
but this feeling is the only real thing I have right now.
(how dramatic!)