more obscured rambling my attempted escape has taught me i like the low-life thing better. and no i don't feel particularly superior or inferior hating my parents and then enjoying their company and then pretending i'm 12 and then feeling i'm 30 it just happened. and i know it's a lame adulterous excuse because somehow we're supposed to have more control than that, somehow 'life is what you make it' but its not, and i'm not going to offer a replacement idiotic idiom like "life is a sneeze waiting to happen" because you can't fit it into a comfortable phrase. why make one in the first place? its selfish to lie to yourself simply because it helps you wake up in the morning and stay unconscious for the rest of your life. besides, the second you come up with an answer is the second you stop trying to figure it out you stop seeing things as they are and start seeing only what you think you've solved. *sigh* -i'm tired of trying to explain every little experience i've had so people can better focus their intruding lenses with immovable filters -i'm tired of making sure everyone has a pretty picture -mostly i'm tired of pretending i see people with cameras when mainly i see people with paintbrushes convinced they've captured the truth. ... no, that's not true. what really kills me is that i can't blame anyone. what really just murders me is...i think its kind of beautiful everyones an artist and i don't mind painting or being painted. i love my portraits, even though they give me absolute hell. i love 'the daughter' and 'the child' and 'the crazy misunderstood young adult' and honestly, i dont think filters are wrong, i dont think self-delusion is immoral if it helps you help others i appreciate that. i know its comforting to know your place in the universe, to understand. its just a little lonely being the only one who's okay with not being okay. |