Gee, I have to get up to go to work in a few hours.

Everything in its Right Place

So I have to kill my ego.
I don't mean my hyperactive narcissistic egocentrism,
Though I could probably do away with that too.
I mean my self-concept.
And I need to stop hiding behind the silly notion of meaning,
And the ridiculous one of objective success.
I need to stop confusing distraction with remedy.
I have to sit with anxiety and fear and have a nice chat over some herbal tea,
Instead of avoiding them,
Instead of lighting a joint, hoping they will kindly fuck off.
Because they always comes right back,
Grinning ear to ear,
While they tighten their grip around my mind and this extension of my mind that I call my soul.

I need to find fleeting moments of happiness and hold onto them.
I have to ignore the judging gazes,
For they come from ignorant bastards who know nothing about the self or the other, or the true nature of anything,
Who think meaning and values are inherent,
Who really believe that any of us really have the right to point fingers.
I also need to stop pointing fingers at the finger pointers.
Because we are, as a general rule,
Victims of situation, throwness, circumstance.
We are the first to admit this about ourselves when excusing our actions,
And the last to admit it about others when judging theirs.
Alternatively, we are also the last to admit it when evaluating our reasons for judging.
We need to remember that behind the seemingly idiotic, selfish, close-minded, mean-spirited words or actions of the other,
There is cause,
And there is motive,
And there is probably a belief in the rightfulness of these words and actions,
In which case there is definitely a reason for the belief of this rightfulness.
But we forget,
Too busy priding ourself in our critical thinking abilities to actually think critically.
Too sure of ourselves,
Far too sure of ourselves.
We are hardwired to come out on top,
When in reality, winning has nothing to do with proving your truth,
And everything to do with finding it.

I have to do and see and hear and feel and ponder the things I love.
I love Indian cuisine,
silk,
cold water,
plaid shirts,
books about the nature of the universe,
my red jeans,
my lips,
lying on my dock at my cottage in the middle of the night, looking up at the stars,
cats,
Star Wars,
foot massages,
being drunk,
spending all my money on red bull and music albums,
the sound of bagpipes at the highland games,
the sound of rain,
being high,
sex,
teal,
Sea World,
swinging at the park,
And people. It's hard to have hope in humanity but acquiring empathy (at least partially, I mean, you can put yourself in someone else's shoes all you want, you still don't share their past, their genetic makeup or their value systems) has been the first step for me in losing the contempt I once had.

I love U2 and Radiohead and The Beatles and Rush and NIN and the old Avenged Sevenfold and General Fiasco and Matt and Kim and Asher Roth and Purity Ring and Cake and Hedley and The Strokes and The Who and Bon Iver and Mac Miller and The Glitch Mob and Atreyu and if you're into JBiebs, I've got no right to any claim against that. Because his songs, they're catchy as fuck. And he has great hair.
I like the obscure sound, But I can dig those mainstream beats just as easily. As long as it can make one person in the entire world sing, dance, or in the very least tap their feet,
It's music.