Sunday, July 27, 2008

on levels of distraction

And even this impotent and watery diatribe is ink across a page, spilled in service to distraction. Disgruntled, suspicious, and fiery sideways glances are loosed all too often from my eyes. As if indulging in entertaining distractions is somehow a higher crime than the stoking of my angst with a pen. Alas, soon night will fall and I will numb the lonely misery of meaningless drifting by bludgeoning it with a bottle. Perhaps there are levels of distraction after all. Perhaps mere leisure is an opponent unworthy to challenge the masterly honing of desperation into a fretful point that burns holes in my skin which will, of course, be cleansed with copious amounts of alcohol. Yes, there does seem to be levels of distraction. But is my particular platform higher or lower than my neighbor’s?

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

the third step... a warning: courage and perspicacity are necessary but not sufficient conditions.

Accepting that you are a product and seeking to become otherwise necessarily involves casting all that matters in life—all that you know about yourself and that informs your identity, all that undergirds your values and sense of right and wrong—into the abyss. The abyss is where madness dwells and the closer to the edge one gets the more intense the discomfort grows. Expose how a man’s most cherished belief has been manufactured and sold to him and he will retreat from you with the urgency with which one yanks one’s fingers away from a hot skillet. Just because you will be the one exposing yourself to yourself, do not be so naïve as to believe that it will terrify you any the less. If mirrors could reflect more than the facade they would be among the most perilous of man's torture devices.