The Eclipse Chronicle

I've been doing some thinking. When don't I? I am sometimes of the opinion that I allow my thinking about life to distract me from actually living life. But perhaps living isn't my style. Perhpas subjegating myself to endless bullshit and fabrications isn't living at all. I'd rather be full of doubt and unease than live blissfully ignorant. I'd rather be unhappy in my own confusion and isolation. I am living proof that a single god does not rule all. I defy nature and logic and purpose and reason. I defy even myself. Although I can't really claim to be anything special. There are many people who exist with similar thoughts, who also struggle to grasp the undeniable complexities of our situation.

Even knowing that such people exist (having encountered quite a few) I nevertheless find myself thinking about my life. I still feel so apart from everything, so detatched from everyone. Social interaction isn't difficult. Simply observe and insert your judgements or witty comments where applicable. People flock to me when I want them to (sometimes I have trouble pushing them away. Partially because they won't leave me alone and partially, I'm sure, because of my own subconscious need to feel like the center of the universe) but I am still quite seperate. My own mind, my own world. It often seems like the only people who understand me are dead. So I'd like to thank Nietzsche and Hicks for their companionship. Dylan is generally with me as well. I think the two of us are on a different plane from most. But even he seems far away at times. I doubt that he is superficial. But one cannot truly understand anyone else. We can guess and make predictions but we don't even know ourselves. Our little mind games proove very little to be sure. Psychology is a fools work.

Is it so that even when we are surrounded, we are completely alone? I know I feel that way. All the time. I just don't think that I belong here. I just don't feel at home, in place. I don't think I fit into this universe like I'm supposed to. I don't think that God knew what he was doing and when he finally figured it out, he shot himself in the head. I won't resort to suicide don't worry. I still have way too much to explore before I consider experimenting with death. But I am getting so sick of the world. I'm getting so sick of people playing all these mindless games. We are truly a bored species are we not? Our intelligence has cursed us with far more severe a punishment than death. Boredom. And we will do anything to escape it no matter how many are hurt, no matter how many die or how much we screw ourselves over. Games, games, games. **************** I'm writing this because I don't feel like playing Xbox.

Anyway, the loneliness is getting to me. The isolation is wearing me down. You'd think I would be used to it by now. I've been like this my whole life. But with our species we all have some sort of metaphysical connection with each other and as it is, I can't survive without the rest of you. If I could, believe me, I would get the **************** out of here. Perhaps I can replace you with creations of my mind. But why replace lies with more lies? Or why replace the possiblity of truth with certain falsity? There's no point. I'd be playing games with myself and even that would get boring soon enough.

Maybe I'll escape one day.