amble.

I like to think my journey is unique. That somehow, someway, my experiences weigh just a little bit more than my neighbors. That my senses and reasoning provide me with a little more feeling and a little sharper analysis than what the world says.

At the end of the day, I am lost. You are lost. We can only save ourselves. Those that do save themselves swallow what they want to and discard the rest unknowingly. Their biasness, their prejudices, all seem reasonable enough. They justify what they want.

This reality is yours, and it is mine. Perception is reality. How will I choose to perceive today? How will this reality play out today?

My feelings seem so much more important. Sometimes I want to be apart of the masses I so often look down on. I want to lose my self of self, and become one. Other times, I want to preserve all that I am- that uniqueness I like to think I have. Ha. Everything is hilarious. The part I like in life… is that I create my life through my thoughts- through my conscious and unconscious perceptions. The awesome thing is, I can share these perceptions with others. I can douse their minds with my reality. I can improve or degrade this wonderful medium we experience time with- you can call it reality, but it’s only as real as you or I make it.

I like to believe that there are black and whites. Where everything is so clear. It can be if I want it to be. That decision, the decision to go this way or that way, makes it black and white.

Is everything clear? I can decide it is, and make it so. Does that make it so? Does that operation make it so? I have a billion opportunities to make it black and white. Do those billion opportunities make it so? or do they delude the clarity?

Speaking of delusion- I feel deluded. Life… life life life.

We are what we repeatedly do. No one can argue that. I promise. No matter your perceptions. Those actions can be interpreted various ways, but the intent of those actions is the deciding factor. I think about people who truly are insane. Who think that beating your kids means that you love them. How those actions translate, and how they are interpreted, well… who knows. If your intent is to hurt them because love hurts, then… shit.