Monday, April 11, 2011

I Can't Believe How Weird it is To Be Anything at All

Every so often when the planets align and the stars shine down with such rhapsodic majesty I have a conversation with people. It happens sometimes, but I'm never happy when it does. Mostly because of one thing: I don't think I'm a person. I'm aware of my surroundings, and yes- I do believe that this is the REAL world and not a artificial one crafted by higher robotic powers- but I never feel like I am the same person in any two conversations. I am some sort of clay-faced menace who has no business being allowed other people. Why is this?
      
             I had a conversation with a very good friend and I like to tell myself "I can be myself with her, no matter what", but I came to the startling conclusion that even with one my dearest friends I can trust myself to be myself. To provide context, we were discussing 'self-love' and how I did not have any of it. She said that it was necessary for me to have it and to be greedy once in awhile. I tried to rebut but I could not think of anything. Her reasoning was sound and it made sense. After the phone call and I was left alone with myself I realized that I had this conversation with myself before and came to a totally different conclusion but forgot about in the face of a real conversation with a real person. Why was this? It wasn't random thought I had well playing the 82nd round of Gun Battle Slap 5 on my PlayBox2, I had conceived one of my most solid and grounding philosophies over the course of many introspective moments- it was very real and one of the single most pivotal moments of the creation of my self. How did I forget it as soon as it became relevant?
      
              If you were wondering what my philosophy is (I BET YOU ARE), it's quite simple. I do not have any self-love because I consider myself to be not anything more than a tiny, insignificant bit of carbon. My life is short, unimportant and without much reason. But OTHER people- those guys are going places. They seem to have dreams and aspirations and goals. Why can't I be the supporting character in their blockbuster life adventure? I can be the Alfred to their Batman, the Watson to their Sherlock or the Shaggy to their Scooby. What is wrong with being second fiddle. It's not a question of laziness or self-sacrifice, it's simply the choice of being happy while helping other people.
      
             So, you can see there is some thought behind this principle, why the hell did I forget it with such gusto? This happens all the god damn time. I don't have an answer why. Is it fear? Could it be the result of an awful memory or what happens when you haven't had much sleep? I don't know. I feel like the more I ponder about it the more empty and upset I get over it. It's like being a bridle cast of an idea, so easily crumbled that it isn't even worth trying to be a human being. But I want to try, I just don't know where to start. I know at the very least I am, but I don't know what 'am' is.
I doubt our ancestors crawling out of the primordial soup had these problems.
Look at this guy. Not a goddamn care in the goddamn world. 
Only thing on his mind is 'where my tyrana-bitches at'