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They call me Truth
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I was thinking that I would tell the world that I don’t care about its rules and “practicality”
That it could take its flaming mass of shit and go fuck itself with it
And I was thinking I would add some fucks and shits here and there just so that it could know that I am serious (because curse words are an indicator of “I’m serious” for a lot of people)
I was seriously contemplating starting each sentence with I don’t care or fuck you
(Something like, “Fuck you world for this mass of shit all over me…I am your human toilet paper)
And I might get some mild amusement that I could sound as angry as possible at an abstract idea such as the world
And then feel a little silly and say:
“But the world’s not the problem, I am. I am using the world as an excuse for being fearful and living in my fear.”
And then it would have felt like I accomplished something at the end, all the while knowing underneath it all that I did nothing
Nothing other that repeat something that I already knew and this was just another attempt of procrastination by pretending that I had just realized that the world sucks and I sucked for living in it like an observer, an object being acted upon
God only knows how many times I’ve said that very thing, while convincing myself that this time the realization would change something
It does change something a little but not significantly
No great big changes
Some small ones
Nothing particularly risky
I am almost 21 and I am thinking that there will be an awakening that I have been talking about for almost 4 years now
So I would throw in some fuck you’s for good measure and feel substantially satisfied with my satisfactory sequence of silly profanity
Somehow convincing myself that getting really angry would definitely change things
Or getting really sad at a life full of niceness
I have been stepped on
And the most I have gotten for my good behavior was a lot of broken promises and a lot of “I’m sorry” and other similar cop outs
I could die a thousand times inside and the only person it would truly matter to is me
And I would take my place among the various other fucktards that make predictions about what will happen tomorrow because they have repeated tomorrows so many times in their todays and acted like they didn’t notice or some really huge event would shake them out of their self induced coma
I can be optimistic
And usually I am
But I have just realized that I have come to the same conclusion every day for the last 4 years and still haven’t done anything significant in that regard instead of getting fucked in the nostril by my moronic optimism turned to “maybe tomorrow”
I know this is a fleeting moment that will soon be replaced with more of that nauseating optimism that has become more of a comfort than a reality
Like a blanket that makes one feel secure
And I wonder how many people were gleefully optimistic about tomorrow
And were so optimistic that they didn’t look both ways before crossing
And got hit by a bus
At least they died optimistic
But they weren’t in that moment
They created a future moment
And didn’t realized that in the current moment there was a really tired bus driver who didn’t see them walk into the road
And while being in the future
It was the present moment that killed them
(It’s not like the following hasn’t occurred to me before)
The only moment is now
It is the only tangible thing we have control over
And the future is a comfort to the fearful who repeat their days like a cancer riding on top a donkey trying to get out of a maze
It is comforting to believe the I will do something someday…and just let today drift by in long moments of optimism
Who really does it today?
Few
Who feels the sweat of paralyzing fear?
Few
Is it me?
Not today
(My obsession with the fact that I am fearful is also disdainful because I believe if I bring enough attention to it, it will eventually change, but attention doesn’t make anything change, it just makes you notice how intricate the prison you created for yourself really is and it actually makes you waste more time)
It is painfully and frightfully annoying how many times I have said this before…this is no new epiphany
I am completely sure that the key is right there and everybody knows it but seldom use it to open the doors
Instead, they stare at the master key and do a whole bunch of self talk about why it is important to use the master key and what would happen if the master key was used and all the reasons why they didn’t use it the past but that now they should use it…and then they don’t. Because they are going to work up the nerve and do it tomorrow
(notice the use of “they” in the above paragraph is also a comfort because I need to create a they so that I don’t feel alone…so why not project my personal feelings on the rest of the world if it makes me feel a little better…I can’t just say its me because then I would be vulnerable and have to stand with the weight of my personal truth on my back…who could really expect a person to hold all of that all by themselves?)
The fact that I am devoting time to saying this is a symptom of my procrastination
But hey, why change something that’s comforting
This is my comfort
Constant repetition of the same thoughts and feelings without actually doing anything, all the while feeling very pleased with myself that I said it
So I’ll just say it to complete this comfort cake: I am living a life in fear and one day I will break free of this fear and be free and live in the moment, where it truly matters. But who knows, whether this will truly happen is up to debate.
What the fuck have I done lately?
I have written an obscenely long poem of self criticism in self loathing (I guess that will be the title of this poem)
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