I'm in an existential lull.
We're all just sacks of liquid with electricity going through them. Difference between alive and not is just electricity. Here i am, sitting at meetings, hearing my life slowly tick by as these sacks of water address and readdress the same fucking things.
Awareness is a profoundly lonely thing. No one can truly communicate how they see the world. I can never show you how my mind sees it all. You don't even know if anyone else around you is aware. Maybe they're just articulate programs, running some loop through their liquid-sack-brain-computer until the batteries lose their charge?
What if I'm the only one who thinks these things? What if you're the only one who thinks these things, but you want me to understand? It still leaves me feeling unquestionably alone. How can there be love if there is never true understanding?
We're all operating with flawed empirical data. Observations filtered through psychological scarring and offset with whatever chemicals are swimming around our squishy, poorly regulated organs: It's springtime, so I want to fuck anything without a Y chromosome, Maybe this morning my brain decided that it needed to hold on to some of its dopamine reserves, so I'm left inconsolable- tapping away at these keys wondering what the point is?
All I'm trying to say is that no one has any control. And that's something I want to come to terms with.
I'm only posting this here because I don't know any of you and I needed to vent. It's like scratching my thoughts on the wall in the bathroom stall. I apologize for the negativity. I'm sure tomorrow will be more fun.
We're all just sacks of liquid with electricity going through them. Difference between alive and not is just electricity. Here i am, sitting at meetings, hearing my life slowly tick by as these sacks of water address and readdress the same fucking things.
Awareness is a profoundly lonely thing. No one can truly communicate how they see the world. I can never show you how my mind sees it all. You don't even know if anyone else around you is aware. Maybe they're just articulate programs, running some loop through their liquid-sack-brain-computer until the batteries lose their charge?
What if I'm the only one who thinks these things? What if you're the only one who thinks these things, but you want me to understand? It still leaves me feeling unquestionably alone. How can there be love if there is never true understanding?
We're all operating with flawed empirical data. Observations filtered through psychological scarring and offset with whatever chemicals are swimming around our squishy, poorly regulated organs: It's springtime, so I want to fuck anything without a Y chromosome, Maybe this morning my brain decided that it needed to hold on to some of its dopamine reserves, so I'm left inconsolable- tapping away at these keys wondering what the point is?
All I'm trying to say is that no one has any control. And that's something I want to come to terms with.
I'm only posting this here because I don't know any of you and I needed to vent. It's like scratching my thoughts on the wall in the bathroom stall. I apologize for the negativity. I'm sure tomorrow will be more fun.