Monday, December 13, 2010
Letters from the land of broken typewriters
2Cute4u left a comment on my last pages saying, I don’t understand you anymore. I thought about that for a moment, then shook my head and replied briefly, saying, yeah, i don’t understand myself either much these days. I think it was Socrates who quoted saying ‘the only thing i know is that i know nothing. I think that about sums it up. I will explain.
I initially started out these pages with the intention of theatrical entertainment, i.e make believe- that’s what we do in theater, i guess. But somewhere along the line, it’s safe to say i discovered that i really wasn’t talking make believe anymore. Most of the drama i was pouring out herein were either real life soaps from my own existence disguised as short fables, or, the less noble intentions of my soul which i was struggling to conceal. Subsequently, in response to my poster-guy sort of life, i caught the poster-guy sin-drone, which i will explain in a little bit.
Whilst i was in the university, Jaci velasques was quite famous as a Christian musician. Her songs were 1st spiritual, then a little more trendy, until the last album which i heard of when she bleated out, ‘this is the real me, can you take it?!’ Jaci isn’t the 1st person living a exhibitionist life who at some point in time felt sick of the high expectations and needed to break out with seeming rebellion. Hey, even more recently is Keri hilson’s latest release, the way you f*ck me. If you haven’t heard it or seen the vid, i’m not sure it’s still on you tube due to its disturbingly explicit content. Poster-person sin-drone is when your life has for so long been an epitome of propriety, or decorum, that you start to get sick of it and just need to break out. That is where i found myself and it’s really nothing new under the sun. But here is my catch 22. What does a waiter do when he’s handling ten plates of expensive china in all hands and discovers he’s got an itch in his crotch? You see, there’s such a point where you just cannot afford to let the plates crash to the ground in abandon, yet how deeply that itch scratches like a cockroach in the pants!
Where the conflict of interest laid is, ok, i wanted to write, that’s all i’ve ever really known to do-well except for all the finance and maths bullish. But there is obviously a seeming deception if you are writing what you do not entirely believe in. And i’m just the kind of person who needs to be firm about anything i ever wanted to say. Have you ever felt like, who the f*ck am i anyways?! P.s, in my former life, i hardly use swear words whereas the past year has seen me sliding fast down this slippery slope of utter disarrangement such that for every new day, i’d stare at myself in the mirror and question, who the heck is this stranger?! Note that, this is hardly a self esteem issue. If it was, i wouldn’t be indulging into half of the things or interactions that i get up to. Somehow, someway, i just don’t even give a rat’s ass anymore such that timidity hardly becomes a problem. I’d pull up a chair and have long chats with total strangers like we were lifemates buds. So i meet the best and the worst of the lot without an iota of condemnation from my part. Why? Because i have discovered that deep within, i am non better, our intentions are all screwed up when we come face to face to the worst of it. Which is why subsequently i get myself into all sorts of untidy situations such as having to currently unravel unrestrained conversations that led to, ‘yeah, sure, come over midnight, i’m pretty much idle’. Mind you, in this regard, my depravity has only sunk to a certain extent and gone no further. But yet frankly, i summise that even that is just a matter of time.
So dear dear whomever has briefly deemed to wonder or concluded and judged otherwise. Sit with me at midnight over a meal of French marinated mushroom and let me point the fact as of the life of c.s lewis. There exists a whole world of writers and scribblers, but alas, it is useful to pause at some point to question if you believe to the gut of your soul the fluidity that your pen strokes unto parchment. Do you write simply for entertainment, then that is fine. But if you seek to reach deeper and relay one simple message even for the rest of your existence, then it’d better be worth your life. In that regard, who is a writer if he does not know who he is in the first place?
P.S, if i was as fickle as the rest of the lot, then observe within the lines that these musings would hardly be occurring in the first place, neither is there a struggle to maintain a standard if there wasn’t in the first place a regime of moral authority within. Martin Luther said, ‘Be a sinner and let your sin be strong, but let your trust in Christ be stronger...’. You see, the reason why most people give up and abandon a walk of faith is when they come face to face with the seeming impossibility to plough ahead and break a certain vices. Most times we just give up and say, hey what the heck! But sometimes, you just aren’t afforded the luxury of saying, what the heck and let the whole thing come crashing down. In my response, i temporarily put aside my previously lofty aspirations of saving the world, and just concentrate on screaming my thoughts out till i can save just one significant person...i.e, myself.
P.S, this is not an affrontation at 2cute4u...you’re still my blogsville crush! *wink*