In truth, writing a personal blog like this has gotten harder and harder for me recently. It's strange that I was once a boy who wore his heart on his sleeve... an open book... and now I'm a man who finds it difficult, because of his own accord, to be more honest with himself, let alone others. In the past I may have over analyzed things, as it may seem I'm doing right now, but analysis can take different paths. I've been a pessimist, with optimism in all the wrong and false things, cowering and hiding when I bore responsibility so that I wouldn't have to brush myself and start again. But in the end, that's how that scenario will always play out.
As I grow in body, it is time to grow in mind and spirit. Not to say I never have, just that the time has finally come to open my eyes and grow purposely. The subconscious has always been both a fear and a tardy explanation for things, but if I can believe that such a thing could be dealt with, why haven't I dealt with the conscious mind more positively? It is because of this thing called lying to oneself. I've been honest with many things, and some were really just superfluous, but in truth I've been deceitful. And deceitful to myself! What a terrible and unthinkable thing when I was a teenager! Yet, here I am embracing the fact of what has been going on, and I'd like to apologize. I'd like to apologize to myself and thank myself for coming out and finally being honest to myself by saying: "Sorry Foisol. I have lied to you." And to everyone else I may have not been so fair to I should apologize as well. In due time. An apology from a man anything less than completely self-realized is too cheap.
As usual I always have a plethora of things to say and write, but I'll leave it at this for tonight. In the novel "American Psycho", protagonist and deteriorating success story Patrick Bateman's (played by Batman, Christian Bale, in the movie adaptation) mind decays and he becomes delusional. Extremely delusional. Whether or not the crazy and sadistic things he has done really happened, he finds himself going from having "everything" to being lost in the mind. Terribly lost. He sits at a bar at the end of the story and looks at a sign reading "This is not an exit", a not so subtle reminder that he is stuck in a living hell that he cannot get out of.
But I can. That's something to be extremely grateful for.
-F

1 comment:
I don't know, sometimes a bitch is just asking to be shot in the back of the head?
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