Blog 10/26/17
Let's suppose I'm sentenced to 9 years. When I'm 32, what do I look like? What am I able to do? What do I want to be able to do, and to have already done? I don't know. That's why I'm writing this. I think the most important part is psychologically. Right now I feel so angry when I think about losing that time and scared I'll lose more. I want to smoke and drive and generally live the life of a suicidally chemically dependent social outcast. Will that ever change for me, or will that always be the way I want to live, even if I'm not living that way? If "what's the point/reason for living" is a reason to kill myself, I should have done it already. I know there is no reason that i should choose life over death at least I mean, no existential reason I should say. So the reason I'm alive is just because I am, because my attention toward suicide is not high enough to kill me. Is there a reason I should live well? To me it is well to abuse myself as it pleases me. But not other people. I also do not exist to inform others. I write because it helps me think, and I share that because I get a kick out of what people might think, but its written for myself, mainly.
If a purpose was vital, I should be dead, but it's not and yet because there isn't one for me -- because I believe there can't be, not for me alone...because there isn't one is why I'm inclined towards what amounts to self-destructive masturbation. Am I sad that I have no belief in an amorphous purpose for myself? I don't know but it seems like kind of a schizophrenic need in people that do. "If I can't heal with my art I should just die" "If I'm not loved, I'll die". People living because they have friends. But, in a vacuum can they survive? Isn't it strikingly rare whey you think about it how many people actually exist because they have chosen to alone independent of attachment to interaction? That is to say, they accept that they are alone, their value to others is of no concern, others value to them is of no concern, even their own self estimation is unimportant. Drinking almost religiously. This alcoholic could be compared to a sort of insect, not in a derogatory sense but, insect-like in mentality: as a cicada buzzes, alcoholic drinks. Could it be another drug? Maybe, but I think alcohol is most suited to this kind of person. Opiates are too much like love, which is not the thing this alcoholic seeks to gain through his self-abuse. For obvious reasons, psychedelics, stimulants, will not do.
And why is that? What then is the reason for this person who does not believe they can or should have a purpose to drink? Perhaps it is a sort of implosion, a withdrawal from the haunts of syntax and meaning, a total refusal to think and feel on principal, rebelliously, Too many times having seen people that reach what they think is a solution, all of them are wrong and this person also is afraid of doing the same: to become certain, of a fixed truth, or value, is to become insane, like so many others they've seen. Belief is the onset of insanity. Once you know, then you are lost! How can I ever explain this, and how it relates to the visions I've had and to my alcohol abuse. Placing value is crazy. Placing value in ambition: crazy. In love: very crazy. In happiness: doomed to fail. In life there is no particular reason to do this or that. People make up all kinds of reasons and justifications and benchmarks, reasons to feel happy, sad, to live and its unnecessary. So they maybe think there's something sad about me trying not to do that, sad too about me drinking so much alond. Maybe I was sad, but there are also times when I look back upon it and wish I could have stayed that way. Forever.