You can tell can’t you?
Tell that I am typing more, that somedays I need this a little bit more than others. Today, and yesterday, the day before. This is the only measure I have for whether or not things are right or wrong for me. It’s amazing isn’t it the person that we fail most often is our own selves. The person that we lie to the most is us after all. Everyone needs a measure of just how much they do that. Don’t you think? Some way to tell just how full of shit we each are. I can deny pretty much any amount of lies if I really want to. Can’t we all?
Those are the dangerous ones. The ones we desperately want to believe. But you didn’t tell me those kinds of lies this time. Your illusion is paper thin. This time you lost the energy to even try and it’s about time too. Cause I don’t have the energy or desire to believe a word of it. And even though my eyes are brown, this time around I know it. That has to count for something right?
Truth is one thing that has to want to be heard to matter. How do we know if we don’t want to hear it without some help form the outside? Our minds can’t be trusted. They’ve been wrong too many times to be reliable haven’t they? They’d be the wikipedia of sources. Guideposts only and user-driven. You can only hope that yours is at least user-driven, right. I mean, can you imagine if every person who wanted to, could help drive your mind; build your personal recollections with false information? The truth is that we allow that every single day. Do you want to hear that? Does it even matter that I said that? Will it make any difference to you? Will it make any difference to me to know that you print my mind with your every word? Or don’t I even want to hear that? Since I’m writing I think I need to hear that. That’s why I do it isn’t it? To put in black white and order what doesn’t seem to make any sense inside. Then just maybe I can read my thoughts and know what I’m thinking. Analyze them impartially and perhaps see a little bit of some truth I’ve been denying.
These words don’t free my mind, they extract it. Sometimes we all need a little ancient medicine. A small slit to let the poison drain out. But with it life. Every time, it takes a little life an they didn’t know any better, but I do. Still I do it, the benefit out weighs the cost in my mind. In my mind? “Fight fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time.” Zedd gets it. It’s not so much a taking in as a letting out. Never go, but out. Two very different things. One thing, you say you’ll do, but have done. One thing I always do, and one I never will. Two very different ends. But in some ways always the same. It’s addition and A and B switch places every time. A little different but always the same. So here I turn seeking subtraction and a little hope of division. Finding neither.
I guess this is a truth I just don’t want to hear. It doesn’t even matter. Things only matter if they create change. Change your mind, change your life, in time. In time. Hasn’t it been enough time? I guess I have my answer.
Well, maybe next time….