I really miss writing (Late '04)

I really miss writing

But there is something in not having to write, in an academic standpoint, as it were. I just need to let my inner demons loose. I love whimsy. It’s unnatural. Unfair, is the right adjective, isn’t it? Maybe.
I have lost what I was writing for. I love praise. The creative juice flows for it. But the idea is that on some plane, there will be praise along the line. Maybe for my poetry, but there’s a good chance that it won’t be. (Who reads poetry anymore? Its been supplanted by recorded music.) But to tell stories? Fiction seems so fake. It is a lie, a conceit. The reader goes in knowing he’s being lied to. How many jobs has that created?
I know it is all about searching for a higher truth. A RELIGION, that’s what it is. We are all seeking a higher truth, and many find solace in other writings. It is when you lose patience for questioning that the device fails. When you thump books and shake your fists, you will only push your own advocacy towards people who already believe you. People with rational minds, I hope, are suspicious of someone so self-righteous that they allow no room for error.
But I feel a member of the few. I dare not call myself enlightened in a serious manner. There is no one who knows the truth, only those who are certain about their own ignorance. Everyone else is somewhere in the middle, keeping on that there is ultimately something bigger and stronger than their own corporal being. Sadly, I continue to think that such a scenario is possible. The problem is that once you rule something out, other theories have to follow and be ruled out for similar deficiencies. A narrow worldview results, depending on the tradition you were brought up with.
In my mind, there seems to be a dichotomy between two highly possible extremes. In one, we have to allow that all is possible in the world. There we have all belief structures, coexisting. Because if on is possible, all is possible. The alternate pole suggest that nothing is possible and we are here on a fluke of being, molecular combinations that happened on a chance ratio that is best described with scientific notation. This nothingness, ascribed to chance, allows for nothing, just chemistry and the sciences that are ignored by American students.
Thus, we are stuck between two poles, and to not encamp somewhere along these two highly divided lines instructs us to have an even more dangerous belief: to know that we are right, and others are wrong. Ideological wars, schisms, and their brethren are cousins of one another, because it the result of a very human certainty that we all wish to feel about this world. The world is ordered into such progressions. You do this, you do that, and finally this again, and then you die. We have from our prophets what happens next.
But hey, fuck it. Curiosity killed the cat, and drove many philosophers crazy. Let’s leave this subject alone, and enjoy conversation about what has united man over millennia: gastronomy.


It is as unfair to say that you hold a monopoly on the truth, as it is to say that you can levitate objects with your mind power, only when no one is looking. If you can’t prove anything, shut the hell up.
Remember, it is only through observation that the system is disturbed.
Think of a meta-narrative based on reading complicated books (i.e. Finnegan’s Wake, Being and Nothingness, etc.).