Brain Dump: Still Dumping
I
think there’s wisdom in letting problems resolve themselves. When I
have problems, which is rare, they usually aren’t even real. Given
that perspective, I have to do practically nothing in order for them
to go away. What’s more taxing than problems are responsibilities.
Those were at least choices you made to be something or someone
towards something. Anything resembling stress in my life comes from
perhaps adopting too many abstract responsibilities.
I
find it odd how little or different it is when I think of “moral
quandaries.” It’s never so much that I can’t, or shouldn’t.
It usually boils down to what I’m going to have to do in the wake
of a decision in order to display a message I want. I think a lot of
people would find this idea troubling. I also think they are
potentially weak of imagination. To not see that the power comes from
what you choose not simply your ability to do so is sad.
As
a tool, I suppose I’m explicitly after power. I like shit to get
done and make sense. Things just run smoother when people allow you
the power over them to move the mountain where you want it. I think
there is a difference in a pursuit of power for a goal, and being
psychologically dominated by an overwhelming need to feel powerful.
I’m well-rehearsed in withdrawing. I don’t need to talk a little
louder or puff my chest out to make it clear to all the swinging
cocks in the room.
Why
would I choose to do otherwise? The nature of choice is at the very
least precarious. Nature verses nurture, your environment against
your philosophy. What if it’s simply a capacity dictated by your
ability to resonate with the pattern and consequences? To say, I’ve
seen this enough times, in all likelihood if X then Y, therefore my
decision to do otherwise.
The
sickest thing I think about what I want to accomplish in the future
is that it won’t leave things any better. It won’t matter what I
create or who I help or what I teach, it will be the minority to some
psychological problem or system of government or form of disaster. In
that way, it makes it extremely selfish. All I need to do is prove to
me. If I’m so far up my own ass, I better impress or what the fuck
am I doing here, right? Of course there are people I admire, but even
there one must tread lightly. Like, let your favorite band play
music, never hear them out about politics. It can also be a breeding
grown for cynicism.
I
don’t think as a society we talk enough about what it means to be
bored. These hookers at the point and addicts on black tar heroin
inevitably say they got bored. They wanted to try something new. They
used to have all these things going for them, but something just
wasn’t clicking for them. Is it not when we’re bored and alone
that anxious or depressed feelings start to kick in? Don’t they
refer to it as “not being stimulating enough” when you’re the
smart kid who should be moved up a few grades? If we thought of
boredom as a kind of withdrawal, maybe we could better identify what
we’re addicted to.
I
used to really hate catch-all phrases or clichés to describe things.
It didn’t occur to me that they have a utility as a kind of short
hand between two people who’ve had shared or similar experiences.
“Bitches be crazy.”
I
sometimes feel like I get away with murder. It’s a license I grant
myself, and while it only goes so far, it usually goes farther than a
“normal” person would allow themselves. I don’t play hood or
gangster. I don’t want little tear drop tattoos or to be so used to
pain and oppression that I have nothing to lose. I just want to
borrow from that world a form of the disposition when it’s needed.
When you use something in earnest, it’s hard to argue that it’s
not real. This does not apply for magic sky daddies.
I’m
hoping brand dumping will put me on the trail of a genuine problem.
I’ve felt inexplicably on track for an exceedingly long amount of
time. I’m not looking for something to go wrong mind you, but
something is always wrong, so why can’t I seem to find the words to
talk about it? We all know this country is getting scary and I don’t
want to be here anymore. I know how I want to spend my time and
money. I know who I feel responsible for and to. I’m not sick. All
of my friends are being weird, but I chalk that up to the lesson
we’ve previously learned at how terrible they are at solving
problems that aren’t problems. Time will win.
I don’t like being
told I’m not happy. It feels like an insult. How could someone be
so blind? Why would they project their problem? It’s such an
antithetical point to the truth. There’s always a capacity to be
happier, but to throw it in someone’s that they aren’t happy,
trying to drag them down with you, is more than distasteful. It’s
this sharing in mutual squalor and misery that allows people an
excuse to stay there. After all, it’s where the parties at. Look at
all the new excuses and personal, untouchable, truths and reasons for
being so. My advice is to tread likely before you diagnose my
disposition or I’ll help myself to dictating yours.
What
does it mean to regard something as an opportunity? Is it a kind of
wish fulfillment? You always wanted a stable job, so one shows up and
you take it regardless of the details? You see yourself “growing”
as a person because you gain the wisdom of the most jaded in your
field? I think we shift and morph, not grow. You can find wise people
at any age given what they’ve had to endure or what they discovered
in living through it. I don’t think I’m after some peak. There is
no “ultimate Nick P.” For “better” or “worse” I’ll
simply be the sum total of my experiences. The ever present
choice is what matters.
