Back home after Breezey was liberated. Overall, a good time seemed to be had by all. Unfortunately, while I planned to crash out afterwards, insomnia seems to have reared its ugly face once again. As such, I am back home, and here I sit, spitting out strings of symbols, each encoded by 256 ones and zeros, trying to convey some meaning, or perhaps just some thought.
I walked through suburbia today. I found myself without a ride, walking through the questionable parts of OC, at least those parts more questionable than most. I walked through a wasteland of buildings made for ideas of humanity rather than humanity itself. There was clearly an intent that most structures would be used by cognitive bipedal organisms, but the degree of despondency that they evoked just looking at them made me convinced of their relative non-utility to any but the most theoretical of human beings.
After that, I found myself in a residential area, perhaps distinct in its aesthetic properties, but not in terms of its feeling of disconnect to what people want and need in a living and working arrangement. There were no people, even in the green areas along my walk, which spanned well over two miles. Though cars were frequent, a person with no frame of reference might have found themselves wondering whether or not a catastrophic event had occurred, sparing only the species of growling quadrapeds that populated the roadways. It was a remarkable feeling of utter monism, as though I were the only living being for the vast majority of my day.
The thing that strikes me most is that it could have been anywhere. The few people I saw could have been anyone. There was no distinction or motif to draw things together. I might have well been wandering around Southern Illinois again, wishing that there was something, whether good or bad, to disturb the monotony of the existence I was living. I guess that is the thing that bothers me more than anything when I go back home. People who try to put me on some kind of strange pedestal for being the one "who got out" don't understand that I live a different flavor of what they do.
There is no right way to live, there is no wrong way. People who try to glorify the places others find themselves are falling into the trap of transference. Your life is what you make of it full stop. There is no relativity in this regard. You make the choice to live everyday, and when it comes down to it, it is not where, but how you live.
Enough rambling for tonight, be well everyone.
/L
I walked through suburbia today. I found myself without a ride, walking through the questionable parts of OC, at least those parts more questionable than most. I walked through a wasteland of buildings made for ideas of humanity rather than humanity itself. There was clearly an intent that most structures would be used by cognitive bipedal organisms, but the degree of despondency that they evoked just looking at them made me convinced of their relative non-utility to any but the most theoretical of human beings.
After that, I found myself in a residential area, perhaps distinct in its aesthetic properties, but not in terms of its feeling of disconnect to what people want and need in a living and working arrangement. There were no people, even in the green areas along my walk, which spanned well over two miles. Though cars were frequent, a person with no frame of reference might have found themselves wondering whether or not a catastrophic event had occurred, sparing only the species of growling quadrapeds that populated the roadways. It was a remarkable feeling of utter monism, as though I were the only living being for the vast majority of my day.
The thing that strikes me most is that it could have been anywhere. The few people I saw could have been anyone. There was no distinction or motif to draw things together. I might have well been wandering around Southern Illinois again, wishing that there was something, whether good or bad, to disturb the monotony of the existence I was living. I guess that is the thing that bothers me more than anything when I go back home. People who try to put me on some kind of strange pedestal for being the one "who got out" don't understand that I live a different flavor of what they do.
There is no right way to live, there is no wrong way. People who try to glorify the places others find themselves are falling into the trap of transference. Your life is what you make of it full stop. There is no relativity in this regard. You make the choice to live everyday, and when it comes down to it, it is not where, but how you live.
Enough rambling for tonight, be well everyone.
/L
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More importantly, did you? Happy Birfday!