choices = freedom?

choices are a symbol of freedom, but really they just allow you to choose your own limitations. then it's sort of like putting your kitty down.

as life continues, you make more and more choices. it is inevitable. and so, you begin a slow process of restricting yourself. You could have been anything, now you're a lawyer or a teacher or doctor. and you are none of those other things.

what if you cannot stop thinking about all of those other things that will never be? it is paralyzing.

and then again, not making a choice is a choice in itself.

how do i get the batteries out of here?

fear is like a fire alarm. it's purpose is to keep you safe. mostly you don't know it's there, but when it does goes off, you can't get it out of your head. every once in a while, it is the signal of real danger, but more times than not you've just burned some toast. and when the batteries get drained, it'll go off for no reason. sometimes when real danger comes by, you get no signal because you've taken out the batteries or smashed the device to pieces in response to far too many false alarms. and i bet in places you are mandated to have one.

fear does have a purpose - fires do happen. but i suggest you get your batteries checked.

we're all the same in that

what people believe and what people say they believe is very different. if we are taking into account all the lines of distortion and misunderstanding possible, then we must acknowledge that we are miscontruing each other at every level of communication. sure, there are moments where two or more people can practically sparkle with a sense of communal understanding, but most of the time we barely communicate in gists. and the very fact that we sparkle suggests that this is special. even people who sparkle a lot consider it rare. usually acheived with very little words. but we spend so very much time on the verbal level. and at this level, it gets complicated. sure, human language is awesome and somewhat miraculous in it's universality and, boy, can we communicate with it. but considering that we, for the most part, speak so imperfectly. and that most of us, even those who do it well, write so imperfectly. and inconsistently. and use the wrong words. at the wrong times. rarely even saying what we mean. then, considering the people who cross these lines of communication. interpreting an imperfect message. with imperfect faculties. coloured through their own lenses, beliefs, experiences, attitudes... life is a big game of broken telephone, but nobody's whispering.

then consider those people who consider themselves to share a set of beliefs with many other people, and consider again how all those people are interpreting all those words in a different way, according to how they understand the world. or they are interpreting someone else's interpretation of someone else's interpretation of someone else's interpretation... that's the thing, man, we're all different. we're all the same in that.

tell me why you're crying

i love you
despite your inadequacies.

which one are you getting wrapped up in?

i do not like candy the way i used to when i was a kid. sweet tarts, for example. wow, do i really not like them now. not like i used to. still i eat them. i may eat the whole box, even.

unless you stop me.

card table, west virginia

west virginia has places like neptune
and hurricane

if i were naming names they'd be things like ice cream
or monkey
or hammer or lizard

or card table.

card table, west virginia.