Yup, bad kids. As in, we're all bad kids. We all disappoint our parents, and stay out late smoking and drinking with the bad kids from across the river. It's the way life is turning, the only way to counter it is to be one of the bad kids from across the river, who may disappoint their parents, but their parents disappointed their parents, and at least they have some morals about what they do, and at least they have some ideals about what is right and what is wrong. Because, I don't know, it seems to me that we lost ideals, we lost morals, everything became too grey, everything became too politically correct. I mean, I'm one of the most politically correct people you'll ever meet, I love the gays and the blacks and the everyone, I like things, but if you call someone a fag I will yell at you about it. I don't know, I don't mind saying fuck you and bitch and moan and shit on your parade, but does that make me politically incorrect? I don't fucking know, I don't really know anything anymore.
I guess I'm just trying to reconstruct my own image right now. Everything is kind of falling apart, and when that happens, there's nothing really to do but let things fall where they will, and pick up what you want or what you can and let the rest lie there, because it may be littering, but fuck it, where's the trash? Where can we throw these pieces of ourselves out? We kind of just have to let them be there, to pollute our soul and our history, because if we put them somewhere inconspicuous, well, that seems dishonest, and I kind of want to exist warts and all. I mean, I'm not perfect, and I want to get better, but I want to be better, not look better. If people are going to think I'm pure and a good person, I want it to be because I am pure and good and everything, not because I put on some appearance. And, the thing is, I'm not pure or good. But I'm trying to be, and that's important. I'm trying to have pure ideals and passions and all that jazz. I want to live in the moment in all moments, if that makes sense. I once yelled that at a friend when I was drunk, but that doesn't make it any less true, I don't think.
None of this is coming out right. Because purity as a goal is completely unattainable. Everything we see and do is impure, simply because it is physical. It's like what Rousseau said, "Man is born free and everywhere he is in chains." I used to think that meant that society restrains, but I kind of have a new theory, that is probably completely wrong but that changes nothing. My theory, my interpretation, rather, is that this means that Man is born free, because in birth, there is a disconnect with the physical world, in birth there is limitless opportunity and potential, because the child has no sight, it has no voice, it hasn't heard anything, it doesn't know anything, and this blank canvas, this empty vessel, this child is thus free. But as soon as it opens it's eyes, it feels it's mother's skin, it hears the beeps and the cooing and the crying, it is chained, it starts to make choices. It decides, "this is my mother, this is the world's light, this is the sound of everything I will ever hear." There are chains, and I think that there is no changing this. Our mother will always be our mother, and we will always know her warmth. The light of the world is all the light of the world, and there is no changing that. And these chains aren't bad, they aren't something to struggle against, I don't think. I love being chained to the earth, in a way. I love gravity and all this jazz. I like existing, and the joy my desires bring. I like all of this, and yet I know Buddhism, I've studied all of this, and I'm not sure what I think or know about it all, but I do know that no matter what, I will love being alive, I will rage against the dying of the light.
And yet, I want to go back to the beginning, I want to go back to my first thought and my first light and my first coldness and my first sound. Not only that, I want to go back to the very beginning, the start of humanity, when there was darkness and fear all around, and fire was a fairy tale to give people a bit more hope. I read a poem by Sharon Olds today, and it described this and this desire perfectly. It was about a suicider, that was talked down from the ledge by the cops and they all smoke quietly afterwards. The end was striking, as the cigarettes burned like the first fires that brought people together. It was just striking, is all, and I wanted to find her book, but got volumes 2 and 3 of Scott Pilgrim instead (Michael Cera was a terrible choice, by the way, Hollywood). Anyways, the point is, the poem is kind of a critique against the enforced delayed mortality of the modern world. The guy attempts suicide at the end of the longest day of the year, at the end of this delayed day, when all he wants to do is sleep and sit and stop for a while. I found the cigarettes to be pretty damn ironic, since it's the socially acceptable form of suicide and everything. Shit, what was my point? I guess that by harkening back to that dangerous time for humanity, when we weren't sure if the species would make it, and all that mattered was waking up and getting food and staying alive and having sex and caring for the children, and doing all of this as intensely and passionately as possible. And, I don't know, I think that humanity lost something when we stopped being scared of death. I mean, seriously, I'm more scared of putting my hand up in class than getting hit by a car, because if I get hit by a car, then yes I'll be in pain and everything, but I know I won't die, probably. I don't know, I think that life is a bit too risk-free, and we kind of need the immediate emergency of death in our lives.
I guess that's all. Oh, I might be putting some comics and stuff up soon, I don't know, I want to finally do some sort of webcomicery, sorry if that's not what you wanted, but I hope they'll be good. I really do.
