Hello to the great din of the internet! Settle down, settle down. I see you there in the back row! Yes, you, with the red hat and boxers in your mother’s house: Put your hands where I can see them! Very good! Eyes on me…
The talented writer can probably suck you in with wit or a good story. I don’t really have that. I actually 100% don’t expect anyone to be listening. Don’t really care. The fewer the merrier. The back row is empty; there’s actually no one in the auditorium. I’m talking to myself. Indeed, it’s about the only thing that I’ve ever been able to do.
Someone once told me that 90% of thinking is just rearranging one’s own prejudices. That is to say, his advice was to stop thinking so much. Because in doing so I (we) repetitively test and confirm what we think to be true. The conversation goes something like this: ‘Am I a piece of shit’ (I am); ‘Is there a god’ (Still no voices); ‘Can I get over my fear of people who don’t look like me’ (Cue crossing the street, again).
Maybe so.
But I think this point of view is cynical, right? I mean, to think that thought – nay, contemplation – serves no purpose other than to congeal the badnesses within me (us)…. Well, geez, why were we endowed with these big ol’ brains, then? Don’t get me wrong, I try not to be a pedant and I don’t know jack shit about neurology. But it seems to me the problem might be that I don’t do enough thinking these days, that maybe I never had.
So thanks, wordpress, for providing a space for those of use who relish entanglements with the broken armies of our minds and souls. Thanks for forsaking people like me into the land of prejudice. Thanks for making a place to write words that benefit nobody except the person who writes them.
If anyone ever reads this blog, I’m going to delete this post.
instapitt 