People have always cut my shape. Y‘know…like the jigsaw piece that doesn’t really fit. So they have been hacking away at me with dull scissors for as long as I can remember. Having been pushed and hammered with fists, I at least conform now to the horizontal plane around me. Although there are gaps on all sides and pressure from rubbing against adjacent pieces. It hurts. And it isn’t getting any better as I see other cardboard components of the picture just snap into positions around me. Happy as dirt to be part of the windmill or surrounding clouds. I look like a bad photoshop image. I have someone’s nose and part of a mouth…and I’m out here in a field of flowers. Any fool can see I didn’t even come from this box.
But here I sit. Trying to write that one essay that not only explains how the puzzle is supposed to work(as I see it, squeezed in here on the card table)…but the one that tells the viewer of such an idyllic scene…that it isn’t real. But it’s tough. People keep cutting and pounding me. I’m sure you feel this way at times. “That’s not quite it” you think as you review your past conversations with people…or even what you have written. Not exactly like the buzz in your head.
Now, I normally don’t go on about my private life. Or bore you with its details. But in relation to, and in search of “that post”…that thousand words or so that spells it all out…without reservation…using that precise wording…I will indulge myself. A bit.
I guess few writers ever feel as if they have ever said it all. Accomplished all they set out to put into words. People are more complex than ink on parchment…pixels on screens. More dynamic. I should celebrate my inability to express myself completely enough to satisfy my most ardent critic….me. I should revel in the fact that it has taken me close to a million words here and a book to try and explain my view of things and why I think you should agree with me on many of them. That should tell me that it is an intricate and labyrinthine journey to my understanding of the way things are. But it doesn’t. What it tells me is that my edges have been cut and bent and pounded so much over time, that I simply don’t have a defined shape anymore. An amorphous statement that “I simply don’t fit”.
I don’t believe in any mumbo-jumbo gods or goddesses. I think all humans are the same when they come out of the womb. Generally I believe that this existence is more or less a joke – the punchline being that there is NO purpose to life whatsoever. But even inclining toward that conclusion, I still feel compelled toward altruism. I don’t believe in most conspiracy theories, save one.
And I will even hedge my bet on that one. I think the jewish are merely goyim raised incorrectly straight out of the womb. I understand that there is no such thing as ‘illumi-naughty’…and Masons are little boys that never grew up entirely.
I don’t believe in the concepts of evil and goodness(or whatever the opposite is). Morality is relative, although common sense should rule the day. I don’t care about most things normal people care about. Don’t like money and the headaches that having too much or too little of it brings. We are better off without it. It is a scam. Art is a scam. Entertainment is a scam. Celebrity is a scam. Sex is a commodity that should be traded on the stock exchange. Love is merely a misspelling of lust. And also should be bought and sold through Wall Street(and is, I think). Humanity makes too big a fuss about the wrong things and lets profound concepts wither on the vine. Human dignity is forgotten. Financial success is praised. Go figure.
♫These are a few of my favorite things♫. I know. I’m not going to win friends and influence people by dragging this type of luggage around with me. But that is why I started this place. To open all this luggage and show it to customs. No secret contraband. Nothing to hide. Declaring only that “this is the way you should pack!”. And I have enjoyed some success at what I set out to do here. For several reasons. Probably the wrong ones.
I have always, as I’m sure you have too, loved to point out that the emperor is butt-naked. So I do that here. Mostly concerning the “tribe”. That is one reason for assembling so many faithful readers. And that is a good thing. Now, I won’t go down a garden path of racism. So that removes quite a few from my readership. I won’t acknowledge any religious dogma…that limits my group even further. I won’t advocate mysticism in any form. I see them falling like flies from a shot of Raid. I won’t be drawn into phoney-baloney politics…a few more drop away. I won’t idealize or whimper about the treatment of the fucking Caucasian race. I see them exiting in droves now. I couldn’t care less about the United Snakes or it’s fictitious ‘heritage’. Bye-bye to another huge group.
I am an anarchist. I think there should be a one-world order. Without any leaders of any kind. Oops. Said the wrong thing there. Another huge block of followers gone.
I am not going to waste any of my time trying to figure out how the Mossad accomplished 9 /11. It bores me. Sorry…bye now. The sky isn’t falling…the planet can take care of itself…evolution is a real phenomenon…see what I’m telling ya? These things will not get me elected to any office of leadership.
I once had it the back of my head that all these things I believe were nothing more than just common sense. But even in this snake pit of loony tunes that can sometimes describe the alternative blogosphere…I’m considered by many to be batshit crazy. Go figure.
But, I dunno. I kind of like it here. Squeezed in here beside the racists and patriots and paranoiacs and the gullible. Buckling up every time a new piece is placed around me. Applying pressure to those with which I do not mesh. Maybe this is that essay. That one that sets everything straight and makes little light-bulbs glow above heads. I doubt it. I’ll keep trying.