Power

Everything I’ve got to say is a front, a made up fabrication to hypnotize. You see these words, you feel the black on white, it moves you to tears with boredom, but you can’t stop reading.

You’re caught up in the sexiness of self-sabotage. That someone could purposefully rig the game against themselves is the most beautiful idea you’ve ever seen. You look at the world and ask for punishment.

Taking the route of permanent failure over temporary successes.

Always ups and downs, but never the speed bump ups and downs of everyone else. Only the glacier sized ups and downs, the kind that constantly melt and sink into the edge. Where the up is always coming back down with speed. And when coming back down is a deep sinking.

Other people dream, and you wonder what it is they see from those dreams. Is it you?

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The universe works like this:

First you’re young, you’re cute, the world works for you.

Then you’re older, you’re uglier, and you work for the world.

When we’re older we all play these little tricks on each other, to see who can get away with not working for a while. It falls apart.

The world wants six pack abs and diet drinks and pills you can swallow that make your dick bigger.

Are you ready to give it to them?
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Popularity at all costs, nothing more. Rediculously large sources of income, with no risk. All of it, and all of it now.

You can’t really write until after your head has been cleansed. Of all that junk, of those insecure worries, of those infomercials. I’m going to show up for that interview tomorrow, I’m going to wake up at six, and I’m going to get that job. I’m going to solve all of my financial worries, and it’s going to allow me to be more creative. The more you try to make things happen, the less they do.

The universe senses a gimmick from a mile a way. It’s intelligent, it can sense when you’re being insencere. It can sense when you’re being lazy, and it can sense when you’re in the zone.
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I grew up in Florida, the land of flatness, and I never had to deal with hills. The only “bad” things I had to deal with were old people, traffic and rain. But since moving to Ann Arbor and riding hills for the first time, I’ve begun to see a few paterns.

Every day I see someone trying to be casual climbing a hill on their bicycle. They’ll sit in their seat, pretend the climb isn’t too hard, but on the inside I know they’re dying. There’s nothing worse than pedaling slowly up a long hill.

So instead, when I see a hill I get out of my seat, stand up, and just push. Push until I’m done, and the hill is climbed. It’s much more intense, and it looks a lot harder from an outsider’s perspective. But it is the fastest, easiest way to get up a hill.
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We went into Meijer yesterday and never talked to a single human being. Our entire shopping experience was conducted by machine checkouts and massive isles. The hugeness of the place is so intimidating and awesome at the same time. So many things in one place, so few humans to bother you about your purchases. We are in the everything you want age; we are in the future.

Everyone is overweight and lazy and wants to gamble. At the Meijer there was a machine you could buy scratch cards on. On the radio they said they wanted to have online gambling so the state could have the revenue. In the future, nobody works, they just take turns taking out massive mortgages, refinancing on pretend money and declaring bankruptcy. It works beautifully and everybody’s happy and nobody loses, least of all the banks.

The banks are what make us human. The banks are what makes us breathe. The banks are our blood. We could never let them get spoiled with worries of solvency.
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I’ve stopped thinking in terms of longevity. Nothing lasts forever, nothing lasts more than a moment. I’ve started to embrace quick cycles of action, quick cycles of thought expressed and released. There’s nothing that’s ever going to be perfect, nothing that’s ever going to be good enough for myself. I can only put my head down and work. Magic happens when I lose the inner dialog, put my head down, and get to work.

There’s no such thing as permanence anymore, no time for quality. If quality is supposed to happen, it must all be absorbed within a bunch of action, focused on one thing at a time. Am I chopping wood, or am I building something that matters?
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I’m old and bitter. I want the world to revolve around me but it never does. I want instant success in everything, but it never comes. I wonder what’s wrong with the world, and then remember: I’m not the center of the universe.

Getting older is tricky. You’ve got to decide for yourself what you want out of life, and how you’re going to get it. And then once you do decide, you’re going to need to get a bunch of help. And don’t think you’re going to do shit by yourself. Even the crappiest little dreams need a bunch of people involved to make them happen.

So what do you do, how do you get people to care about you? It’s a nice daydream that people will like you if you’re really cool, but then again, they probably won’t. You’ve got to make a big change when you get older; you’ve got to start caring about people other than yourself.
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See normally I don’t go to places like this, but they told me there was going to be prizes. I can’t stop my self from entering contests with prizes. But coming here’s been a mistake, you people are nothing like me. I don’t believe like you do, I am a rational man. I do what is best, at all times, with the information I am given. A chance to win free prizes for half an hour of my time seems worth it, until you guys start talking.

You people forget that we’re just clouds of chaotic little particles bouncing around. There’s no eternal and there’s no holy. There’s just us messed up little automatons.

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He killed his senses, he killed his memory, he slipped from his ego into a thousand different formations. He was animal, was carcass, was rock, was wood, was water, and he always found himself again upon awakening. Sun was shining or moon, he was self again, swinging in the cycle, felt thirst, overcame thirst, felt new thirst.

Siddhartha learned much among the samanas, he learned to follow many paths away from his ego. He followed the path of unselfing through pain, through the voluntary suffering and overcoming of pain, of hunger, of thirst, of fatigue. He followed the path of unselfing thorugh meditation, through thinking till the mind was empty of all notions… But though the paths led away from the ego, in the end they always led back to the ego.

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