At times I can write a letter. Bone, skin, muscle, and ink- sweat and tears are optional. These times call for an absence of the modern toys that grow from my body as man made extensions. These are objects that produce a cold symphony of beeps and alerts which even if adjusted to emit soothing tones end up jarring in their incessant repetition. They are the growing pains of modern life. Though when they are gone they enable me to enjoy the moment.
Everything should be gone. I used to be more elusive.
I cannot write a letter right now. I can be honest with my voice but most are unaware of why I am so honest and so passionate about being. It only exposes my sensitivity; though without sensitivity there can be no true enjoyment of life, no knowledge, no courage; no pain, no tragedy, no stories to tell, no history to remember, no grand love to be admired. Without sensitivity to life there is futility.
I have strived for logic and realize that it will keep me content but never ecstatic. Reason (rather than logic) is more abstract. Only in an idea’s abstraction can it be considered human. A being who is reasoning with his life experience is fully aware. However, the application of systemized thought is brought about by societal teaching of proper human conduct, it creates a cage surrounding a growing, beating heart. Reasoning may be more fitting for a soul like me. I can find proper reasoning for the things I love and can explain my backwards priorities as well. Logic is a design for a societal being. Inspired by politics, science, and an importance of human physicality.
Although considered synonymous, it should be seen that reason is man’s ability to form design, and logic as the cage drafted for mass production. Logic as tested processes are in themselves human achievements, but like all other human achievements such as works of art, literature, scientific advancement, they should be continuously, organically tested and reinvented.
Maybe I ought to sleep more. I should delve into my subconscious to find deeper understanding. Perhaps the farther I plummet the more I will understand that forgetting is necessary for growth. Holding on to a past rich with good, bad, romance, misery, shame, arrogance is unnecessary because they are simply a collection of indistinguishably singular tiny moments sewn together in an intricate tapestry that has led my footing from birth to the isolated present-a present in which carries no physical remnants of a past or future. Perhaps I should omit the moments I was wronged, or accept them as they lie…in the past.
To live in the present I should ignore my past anguish and jubilance, I should not focus on the dreadful things the future may present. Having considered love in my past I realize its insignificance to me now. Yet as a human I strive out of desire to attain it once again. This simply means I have a desire to be satisfied or am content at the moment and aspire for some illogical purpose to be even more satisfied. If it simply finds its way into my life without any aspiration on my behalf then it can only bring compromise and complication. Is this necessary? No. Every moment is fleeting. Life is an immeasurable sum of fickle moments. Loyalty is unintelligent, marriage is death, Love is unnecessary.
Can I choose to live this way? Is this what I truly think? No. This is not my reasoning.
I can only write a letter when I live inside a moment and understand that I am a mentally stable being but a being that is aware that the way he thinks is not socially acceptable. It is then that I am able to be uninhibited in thought, it is THEN that I am most frighteningly honest and secure in my insecurity and it is then when you may know me.
It should be known that a person’s consistency of character is a form of death and an inhibitor to growth and honesty. It is a flaw in societal trend that a person should not be accepted as a paradox. Man as the most complex living organism should be simplified and made less intricate?
I must attain balance but find no in-between with a self of symphonic of beeps and emotional inhibition and passionate animal impulse and freedom of expression.
I can write a letter to you explaining loyalty, the ill-use of labels and over-categorized terms for human relations. I can explain to you the falsity of you calling me ‘friend’ though if you’d like I will explain to you the cracks you and I fall in between. There is no logic to put such concern into something like this- a matter that I should not be affected by but I have given you my reasoning.
In being so honest I can tell you the shocking truth of how fickle and loyal I can be, how hateful and loving, self-confident, self-deprecating, afraid, fearless, angry, or ecstatic I am.
I can love or I can not.
The truth: I hide the fact that if I have become acquainted with your character I love you. It can be within weeks, days, or hours.
Unfortunately, I have a grudge against socially acceptable laws of conduct that inhibit a human being from loving another human being before set schedules of time passed.
Fucking cowards.
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