I’m not entirely sure why I continue to be cryptic. Recent events have made it too clear that this whole Buddhism concept is entirely too true: everything is empty of inherent essence, and all things depend on both the potential to come into being and all other processes. What that means in English? Shit that happens influences all the other shit that happens.
I have so many thoughts. But censorship leaves them either in a WordMac doc or floating around in my brainspace. I can’t say super mean things about Situation A, but I’m in the mood to. I can’t say confused, disappointed things about Situation B, and I don’t even know why not anymore. I can’t say anything about Situation C, because for the love of God there will never really be a Situation C (although I suppose the potential exists provided I put myself in the proper context for it).
Let the crypic attempt at leaving myself something to get out the crazy thoughts and provide enough to remember what the fuck I was talking about in the first place (the hardest part) begin:
I’m thinking both
“Sometimes I feel like weeping; awaken when I’m sleeping; perfecting how to put a game face on.”
“Fuck you…and your untouchable face. Fuck you…for existing in the first place. Who am I to be vying for your touch? Who am I…I bet you can’t even tell me that much.”
I’m incredibly torn between
“I lay my head back down, and I lift my hands and pray to be only yours. I pray to be only yours. I know now you’re my only hope.”
“Go and tell your white knight that he’s handsome in hindsight, but I don’t want the next best thing.”
“One question haunts and hurts. Too much, too much to mention: Was I really seeking good or just seeking attention? Is that all good deeds are when looked at with an ice-cold eye? If that’s all good deeds are, maybe that’s the reason why no good deed goes unpunished.”
Dear Situation A: You’ve completely fucked up Situation B.
Dear Situation B: WTF with Situation C?
Dear Situation C: Neither Situation A nor Situation B even exist. It’s all a dream.
I think I’ve lost my mind. I may in fact write a long-ass WordMac doc using actual names and information. Kinda wish I wrote a robot blog sometimes. But robots sort of suck.