Straight Into Darkness
I have remembered today, for the first time in lifetimes I cannot begin to count, just where I've come from, and where that has been. It had become an abstract ideal, the sole surviving memory to a place never really known. And today, I remembered that place. Not just the faceless idea of it, but the heart and soul behind it, what everything felt like at the time, and the reality that it was. It was terrible, and it was beautiful. It was pathetic, and it was heroic. It had boundless horrors and infinite joys, but most of all, it has always been outside the realm of words.
If anyone bothered to pay the attention, you'd probably notice that I've developed an infamy for hinting around certain times and events in my past, without ever mentioning them directly. While I gather very few are actually interested, it is muchly intentional. There are, perhaps, a dozen on the planet that are aware as to what I'm hinting to, and perhaps a dozen more, who might be able to guess at what I'm on about. Of them.. one, two, have any insight into what I speak? Perhaps that's because it's the rare person that cares to inquire, or perhaps it's because I've only in these past months been able to actually explain myself well enough to allow anyone to relate to me. Perhaps it's just because I'll rarely even try unless sufficiently comfortable and feeling it will be heard, if not understood.
The fact that I remain more than a footnote to anyone liable to read this, is owed almost solely to my sheer bloody-mindedness. I find it brilliant that I have written down, not a suicide note, but last wishes, of sorts. That I was one bad month away from never meeting most of you, and never really learning about any of you. It's fucking hilarious. (Hilarious to me probably means something very different than it does to you. However, that I reached a point in my life, under the conditions that I did, is really funny. Moreso that almost nobody will read this and care. I'm loving it far more than any person should, and it's wonderful.)
It's so wonderful. This summer has led me to two huge glaring truths as to how my life should suck. How it should make me cry incessantly and want to kill someone. Not a damn person in the world other than me right now knows what the fuck I'm on about, and it's brilliant. Life is awful! It's horrible! It's terrible and strips you away with nothing left. It will leave you alone, embittered, hurt, scared, terrified to do anything or react, and it's all just genius. The sheer monumentality (monumensity, if it was a word) of the misery in this world.. it's so horrible, and so agonizing. It's painful beyond words and we can't even begin to grasp it. And I'm sitting here, with a big grin across my face, sitting right in the middle of it all. Life couldn't be worse if it tried, and by that same token, it couldn't be better.
I hope you're all having as awful of a day as I am.
If anyone bothered to pay the attention, you'd probably notice that I've developed an infamy for hinting around certain times and events in my past, without ever mentioning them directly. While I gather very few are actually interested, it is muchly intentional. There are, perhaps, a dozen on the planet that are aware as to what I'm hinting to, and perhaps a dozen more, who might be able to guess at what I'm on about. Of them.. one, two, have any insight into what I speak? Perhaps that's because it's the rare person that cares to inquire, or perhaps it's because I've only in these past months been able to actually explain myself well enough to allow anyone to relate to me. Perhaps it's just because I'll rarely even try unless sufficiently comfortable and feeling it will be heard, if not understood.
The fact that I remain more than a footnote to anyone liable to read this, is owed almost solely to my sheer bloody-mindedness. I find it brilliant that I have written down, not a suicide note, but last wishes, of sorts. That I was one bad month away from never meeting most of you, and never really learning about any of you. It's fucking hilarious. (Hilarious to me probably means something very different than it does to you. However, that I reached a point in my life, under the conditions that I did, is really funny. Moreso that almost nobody will read this and care. I'm loving it far more than any person should, and it's wonderful.)
It's so wonderful. This summer has led me to two huge glaring truths as to how my life should suck. How it should make me cry incessantly and want to kill someone. Not a damn person in the world other than me right now knows what the fuck I'm on about, and it's brilliant. Life is awful! It's horrible! It's terrible and strips you away with nothing left. It will leave you alone, embittered, hurt, scared, terrified to do anything or react, and it's all just genius. The sheer monumentality (monumensity, if it was a word) of the misery in this world.. it's so horrible, and so agonizing. It's painful beyond words and we can't even begin to grasp it. And I'm sitting here, with a big grin across my face, sitting right in the middle of it all. Life couldn't be worse if it tried, and by that same token, it couldn't be better.
I hope you're all having as awful of a day as I am.