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The Chronicles of My Honesty

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  • The Chronicles of My Honesty

    I was really depressed the last few days. And yesterday, at the height of my depression, in a momentary lapse of reason I wrote a paragraph of my thoughts and feelings. I read it later and I liked it. So I decided to write more and call it The Chronicles of My Honesty because it's my most honest piece of writing ever. And I consider it the best. Better than any fiction Ive ever written, and I'd like you all to read it. Here it is...


    The Chronicles of My Honesty



    Doubt, oh terrible doubt.



    Im messed up. Plain and simple. Messed up. M-e-s-s-e-d u-p. Or perhaps it's just that accursed reality taking over. About time too. You might be wondering what has gotten into me. You might be wondering, has this fucktard finally flipped for good? Well the answer is, perhaps. PERHAPS. Im not sure really, after all Im only a good for nothing jerk with an IQ lower than my age which isn't much to begin with. Maybe it's just my massive, massive inferiority complex. Im surprised I can even spell that right. The last 15 years, oh glorious years, years of blissful delusions of grandeur. I am a smart kid. I am a good writer. Enter 16th. Enter reality. Im dumb and a terrible writer. Yes sir. I am worthless. My future hah! There is none! NONE! Oh readers don't mistake this for post-exam result trauma. I couldn't care less about those. Indeed. Tis a fact rich gentlemen and fair ladies. A fact! Nay, this is the result of a stream of disappointments. Needless introspection. Writer! Hah! What the effing hell was I thinking? I think that's what sealed it. That first piece of rejection. Bane of Rune Midgard, Seed of self-doubt. Evil evil seed. It hath sprouted now. And grown. Like li'l Jack's good ole beanstalk. Grown sky high. And the ogre up there is reality. For I climbed up me beanstalk and fell flat on my face. I don't know what Im writing. Maybe if and when some semblance of sanity returns, god forbid, not that I believe in god, I will hate this for the rest of my life. Or perhaps my tendencies for harakiri (did I spell that right?) will take over. Conquer ill-judgement and take me to the reality that succeeds death. Maybe. I will just have to find out. Perhaps very soon.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    An Odd Day

    Yesterday was weird. Really weird. I came home. Creeped out a few friends. Opened Wordpad and typed away without thinking. The end result was a paragraph of absolute, unmitigated wierdness. I didn't read it again. I closed the computer and fell asleep. Wierd dreams followed. I was on a cloud and when I pissed it fell as rain. I interpret that as me being the God of rain. Hah! God of rain! Pagain drivel! I always knew I was pagan, wait. I thouht I was atheist. Religious conflict. Confusion. Why does adolescence have to be so complicated. I sometimes wonder, has the internet complicated adolescence further? Over the internet, you compete with people older than you, smarter than you, sometimes even wiser than you. At times that helps, at times that just contributes to your complexes. The latter is very very true for me. Why did I become an atheist? Do I really believe in the non-existence of a omnipotent identity? Or is it just a wish to rebel against the Man, so to speak? I highly suspect it's the latter. Maybe my problems are only with the institutionalisation of religion and not with the existence of God itself. Religion in it's current form is a grand scam. That much I can say with all firmness and belief I possess in this little scuplture-gone-wrong of muscle and bone. Maybe God does exist. Maybe, if a fundamentalist reads this Im in trouble, God is sadistic old wanker who takes great pleasure in observing how further this world gets screwed with each passing moment. Maybe that's why he never intervenes to do good except in myths. Now why did I say 'maybe he'. I am no sexist. It could be 'maybe she', 'maybe they', 'maybe it'. Anything is possible. But for my convenience let us just assume God is one guy. A dozen omni-potent sadists is a scary thought. And an omnipotent sadistic female entity is just too kinky. Anyhoo, maybe God created planet Earth as his High Definition, large screen TV. Maybe he's right there, plopped on his couch drinking cosmic beer and munchin on cosmic-KFC chicken legs. Or perhaps he is just too bored of us now to be effed helping us out. Too many possibilities. Mind-boggling I tell you. I think I claim to be an atheist because that's what bad-ass rebels are. I think I believe in God. Im not sure. Maybe I'll know for sure one day.

    But I digress. I was talking about yesterday. I woke up later, did some pretend-study and took a look at that paragraph again. I loathed it, though I did think it had a peculiar style. Ive read it four times since then. I like it now. Really. Especially the Jack and the Beanstalk part. I quote a TV show here "When you're young, you're many things. You dream of being a soldier, cop, astronaut, musician, race car-driver. Many things. Maybe gorwing up is a process of giving up all of those things." I don't think that was the exact line. But you get the idea. I love it. It's awesome. And very true. I want to be a writer and a historian. Maybe it's a childish dream. Maybe the right thing to do is to go along the well-trodden path. You know, doctor, engineer, MBA... that brand of bullshit. Maybe my responsiblity is to earn loads and contribute to my family. At the cost of my creative satisfaction. But I was never big on the right-thing to do. I do what I *want* to do. Screw being right. It's overrated anyway. Who knows what is right? Maybe the apple fell on Newton's head because it wanted to. Maybe if it had really wanted to go upwards, it would have. Maybe our idea of truth has been carefully fed to us by God. Maybe it is the product of divine manipulation. Don't you think there are too many maybes in this... let me call it an 'essay' for lack of a fitting word. Too many questions. Hardly a believable answer. I used to think, if I read about religion and the various forms of belief Id figure out what I am. Collossal mistake. Im just more confused. I just read about Deism. I find it a bit believable too. I don't believe in any ideology completely. Idea! Why not craft my own ideology out of my beliefs. A pot-pourri of all that I believe acceptable from other ideologies. Maybe I should start my own religion. One where there are no binding rules. Do good, and relate to God however you want. I'll call it Liberalism. or Not-really-a-religionism. Ok the second name is puerile. I admit. This has opened up new possibilities. I must contemplate further.
    Last edited by thoric; 11-13-2007, 01:18 AM.
    Devils are the bagel's favourite breakfast food!

  • #2
    Honesty is a dangerous proposition. Perhaps adolescence can be partially defined as a search for honesty, for something real beneath the many many layers of pretense. However, this is not something that will be solved as you mature into adulthood. This is life's question, the one that you must wrestle with through every year of your existence. Those who are older are wiser only in the sense that they've had more time to consider this question from different angles. They have also had the opportunity to make some sort of peace with the enormity of the unknown and the unknowable. By "peace" I don't mean that you will necessarily become complacent and give up on your quest for authenticity. What I mean is that you will need to find a way to productively exist alongside this ever-looming monster, this yawning chasm that is always just inches from your feet, threatening to devour you.
    My sanity, my soul, or my life.

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    • #3
      Good stream of concience stuff.
      The organ is grinding but the monkey won't dance.

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