Thursday, August 11, 2005

Being Is

I have always had a sense of self righteousness, like I have something to say that people should really hear, and they'd be better off for hearing it. Because that's exactly the kind of vain cunt I am. I'm sure it pisses some of you off the way I make self-depreciating comments that make light of things you truly hate about me and wish I would hate more. But fuck if I care that I'm not perfect. Obsession with being right and perfect and accepted all the time just isn't one of my weaknesses. My weaknesses include the following: vulgarity, excessive behavior, being annoying, getting really hyper, and really loud when drunk, narcissism, not knowing what's appropriate, saying something embarrassing, getting distracted, forgetting people's names, not being able to edit myself, saying the wrong thing when excited, a sometimes crippling fear of being misunderstood, touching and sometimes using other people's stuff secretly without asking, being gross, crying too much, screaming too much, getting too angry with my family, inability to suppress desire, sucking at sports, talking about myself too much, mental laziness, paranoia that nobody really appreciates me, not being able to understand the sports, being addicted to boys, penis envy, being too nostalgic, sloppiness, and getting too serious about moral issues, and I'm sure there's other crap too. But goddamn it I am proud of it all. Not that I want flaws- I try my best to be my best- but there's just some you have to come to terms with, everyone has em, and will always have some. Sometimes when I know my flaws are showing I smile like an asshole inside about it. I like having a guy look at me and think I am pretty and then talk and have him think I am either psychotic and/or completely disgusting. It think it's funny. I like being human. I love the vulgar rawness of the flawed human spirit. Runs in pantyhose and stained glass, blood and guts and tears. I love to think about what it felt like to be the saddest and most desperate I've ever been. Crying, immobile, malnourished, and pathetic. To simply contain that moment in memory, the exhausting voracity of my pain all condensed into a tiny incomplete visual, it moves me. My memories move my own self. Perhaps that's how I know I must love my condition.

Being Is- that's Parminides famous little phrase, the truest words ever spoken. Fuck Thales' "All things are water." Touted as the first known philosophical writings. It's disposable. Being is was the first thing ever really said. It doesn't matter if I love or hate the human condition because I both love and hate it and I can't come to a conclusion one way or the other. Because love and hate exist together and can never be mutually exclusive. They are. We are. Being is. That makes me happy and furious. Because it makes me. It is. Being is. And I don't give a fuck if you think that's pretentious. I'd like an audience of people who can appreciate that, and if you're not it, well . . . you know. I could say something pithy and diva-ish.
Choose your own adventure, write the last line for yourself.

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