"No-one ever dared
To break these endless lies" Sunburn
I am writing this by the light of a new day (cheeewaaah). No seamless correction possible here. I want to see my first thoughts, and the words I cross out, and the words I choose to replace them. First thoughts are usually lies. Someone once told me, write something about yourself, then write the opposite. Then open your mind to the possibility that the second statement is true.
I'm not ignoring you. I AM ignoring you
I am shy. I am NOT shy. And yeah, that's how the reality goes.
Take our politicians for example, they are the living proof
I am useful. I AM NOT useful
So now enter me. I am sitting alone in my room, the blind down over the window and the door locked. There's music playing to which I am not listening. The tv is on, but I am not watching it. Maybe I'll watch MTV afterwards. I am doing nothing in particular. I do nothing most days. You could say it's what I do, like my occupation since I am doing nothing anyway.
I don't even want money. What's the point? You see something you want to buy, you get excited about having it, you buy it, the excitement fades. Everything's the way it was before. I've seen through that game. They make you want things so they can get your money. Then they take your money and then the got it and then what do they do? They use it to buy things someone else made they want. How stupid can we get? It makes me laugh. These people who hurry about all day making money to sell each other things. Anyone with eyes to SEE could tell them their lives are meaningless and they aren't getting any happier.
My life, IS meaningless. I'm not getting any happier. My father asks me all the time what I am dong spending all day shut up in my room. What can I reply? There's just nowhere to go.
I like my room. I said before I don't want anything but this isn't entirely true. I want my own room. I do not much care what is in it so long it has a door I can shut and lock so people don't come asking me to do things. I expect maybe I'll spend the rest of my life in my room, and at the end I'l just die here, as a pathetic loner, but that is fine with me.
The world out there, first of all it's not that big and wide. Really the world is as big as your experience of it, which is not so big after all. And what sort of world is it? I would characterise it as remote, unpredictable, dangerous.
My bestfriend, F, says my world view lacks depth and is merely bitterness. I dispute this. I feel no bitterness. I see things as they are. Nature is selfish. All creatures kill to survive. Love is a mechanism to propagate the species. Beauty is a trick that fades. Friendship is an arrangement for mutual advantage. Death is annihilation.
So why leave my room?
