back again huh? something on your mind?

i guess that would be a reason to be here. i mean, for me anyways, as this is an oasis in the middle of my mental wasteland. at least this isn’t as malleable as my abused neurons. i’ve heard they can take my memory and bastardize it for its own survival purposes. yet another thing i have no control over.

but anyways, tonight’s diatribe stems from something i didn’t expect, not in the way i guess i would have. it comes from hip-hop. which would make sense in a way considering the amount i ingest. i’ve really been pounding the sound providers lately, and finally found someone who had a bunch of complete albums, so i finally came upon True Indeed, produced by the sound providers and featuring Surreal as an MC on every track. as a quick aside (totally off the main ponit) i have heard of this MC before through ohmega watts, and he does mesh very well with the sound provider’s very jazz influenced beats. surreal’s a bit cocky, but most MC’s are. his speed and timing reminds me of Aceylone or Phonte. good MC’s to be sure, but all so self-sure as to not really show any vulnerability. poets without the pain, i would throw out there. but what do i know.

which brings me to my real point (bury that lead!) which was the self-sureness. speak the truth and it will be heard right? so you speak some truth you have learned, and pass it on, in an attempt to get that truth out there. to expand its legacy through word of mouth, whatever that media will be. but the question is, then what?

you speak a truth, you accept a truth, and then what? change? hope? what is the expected outcome? what is the real chance for growth? so many truths, so little time. which ones to incorporate? which ones to question? which ones are important? i know this comes down to simple choice, but then it goes deeper. choice how? due to what factors? and so forth. i’m not really looking to delve into choice, radiolab did that so well without me.

i’m thinking more along the lines of truth, and it’s many interpretations. but the thing is, the beauty lies in all those interpretations. really, what difference does it make to you to accept a truth besides find something that fits in your life, helps give it structure? a scaffolding built around your true self to hold it up, keeping it from collapsing. but isn’t the scaffolding less self-imposed, and maybe more environmentally imposed? a self-containing structure to hold the real you in and yet project something out to everyone else, a truth of yourself, in some way.

a compromise between the person you really are and the person you want to project to the rest of your environment. a decision full of so many facets that there is no pure one or the other. so conjoined are these two that boundaries are worthless and classification is just a way to pass the time. you become the monster of your design, given the parameters.

and so what? really, what else are you supposed to do? strike a balance, and live your life. live in the extremes if you want, or try and hold yourself more towards the center, keeping your oscillations at a limited frequency, and roll on those waves for as long as you can.

is accepting a truth in your life some spackle you throw on the scaffolding? or some brick you add to your structure? i mean, i just pointed it out, it’s so conjoined right? some concrete you’ve been mixing to hold the bricks together is splashing all over the work you have already done, since life is such messy work.

it is so easy to speak truths. it’s a little harder to internalize them. and it’s damn near impossible to spread them. so what if you are not a born leader of men? someone who is a conduit of these greater people, someone who latches on to their ideas, someone who has enough going for them that they can afford to trust their hopes and dreams unto others. i mean, if i really wanted to make sure my ideals and beliefs live on, i’d spread the good word, do the good work. get people on my side through persuasion, or just speaking truths to someone ready to accept them, however you want to look at it. being a builder of dreams is tough work, and not made for everyone. especially since there is no dictated pace. only the threat of either getting it done now, or never getting it done.

so really, what is to be done with truth?

i internalize so much, and spend so little time communicating these kinds of thoughts, that i come here and hash them out. could i do this with others? could i get away from that poet without the pain mold i’ve fit for myself? but i can’t without fully surrendering to something i don’t understand, or don’t even really care if i do or not. my life goes along at this measured pace, with calculated strides, engrossed in the life i wish to emulate. with occasional gasps of air like this because i have to oscillate back and forth. if i live in one place too long in my mind it starts getting a little stir-crazy, and has to wander somewhere else, anywhere.

but i look at this pile of truths i have established for myself, and so many of them are completely arbitrary, save for the fact that a goodly amount of people have told me they agree with me (or at least inferred it). that powers in numbers stuff can really be assuring, it makes for at least some sort of solid measurement, not just another arbitrary stick measuring an arbitrary gap, looking to make it whole.

i straddle this life with a sort of ayn randian pragmatism towards life, and some set of moral codes that closely emulate humanism. these and everything in between (or perhaps beyond) dictate how i act in this life. supposedly separate ends of a spectrum, with the whole coalescing in the middle somehow, conjoined. and really, i can spend my life trying to pick the two apart and put them in neat little boxes, or i can just throw it all into the same box.

and then the paradox comes full-circle. since they’re conjoined, i’m going to do a little of both, and create fractals of such beauty that only i can comprehend their glory.

so here’s what we’ll do. i’m just going to leave this open, and come back to it from time to time. i mean, this laptop can sit anywhere it wants, so if i leave it in a highly visible spot, i’ll come to it from time to time, and i’ll add something to this dialogue. god, i’m so very clever.

i have to say, seattle has had quite a snowstorm in the past few days. it has taken everyone by pseudo-surprise, and most streets are just becoming passable after 5 days of continuous snow and temperatures in the mid 20’s. my truck is worthless in this kind of weather, where snow just gets packed into ice, and melt and freeze every rotation of the earth, with a bit more time to freeze at this time of year. speaking of less time spent in the sun, yesterday was the winter solstice, so days can only get longer from here!

boy this leaving thing open didn’t work out, i just ended up playing warfish for about an hour straight while playing Blue Dragon.

this is my life.

so how long has it been?

almost a month? crazy.

where does the time go? it goes everywhere and nowhere, and my existential self doesn’t know what to do because regardless of everything going on around, the real world ends up catching up with the existential self. it’s only a matter of time.

it finds ways to exist, finds ways to adapt, finds ways to rationalize.

i think that’s the most important step. being able to rationalize yourself to yourself is quite an irrational feat, so rationalizing it may seem a bit far-fetched. but go with it. why not?

semi-colon;

i am unworthy of all of this, doomed to hate myself for that which i did not have to earn. part of something i can conceptualize, but never quite be a part of. be myself, be something beyond inherent understanding and a part of something wholly and unavoidably conceptual.

something beyond fucking flowery dialogue and maybe, just maybe a part of something for once, and fucking enjoy it. because for all the ennui i can force myself through, it could really be a whole lot different. i could have no idea what ennui was in the first place.

and where would that leave me?