don't take me seriously. merely talking.

My mind is chained to an idea that I am helpless to actualize. I'm chained like a depthcharge or something, unable to rise to the surface, unable to breath. I suppose there is nothing worse than hoplesness. In some ways it drives me to be homeless, wonder the streets and sidewalks, or maybe I can have an apartment with bare walls and chain locks. I'll just stay in hollywood, have an empty refrigerator and a dirty carpet. I'll become a victim of dillusion, hopless casualty of a dream, much like everyone in hollywood. Dreams are always lovely when you are asleep, but attempting to live dreams can easily become nightmares, sacrificed to the indifferent shrug of reality. It can leave you heartless, the worst picture of existence. Waiting for eternal return, hoping for every possibility of existence to play itself out until something vaguely familiar returns. Something memorable. The loneliest places in the world are the places that have the most wondering strangers, walking and shopping. Waiting for paychecks and weekends to forget about the fact that they live a life that is nothing like the lives the imagined when they were young, lives that were still untouched by seasons and GPA's, resumes and marriage. People start drinking to fit in, they keep drinking to bear with living. Drunkeness pulls the ground out from under you. It weakens gravity. The crowded highways that lead you to work become quite distant. You can exist like the Hindenburg, afloat in glory and celebration until you burn to the ground in a manner in which leaves people talking for years. How interesting, to become a story, a warning, a life lesson on how not to live. What do they know? What does anyone know? What do police know, what do parents know, what do priests know? What do singers and pop stars know, what do presidents and authors know, what do poets know? No one knows your life, no one knows your reasons but yourself, and you can take that as advantage, a sense of pride maybe? Or you can shrink from the isolation of self motivated reason...it's all quite uncertain, living. It's 11 pm and I'm being quite dramatic, but I guess I'm merely letting my mind wonder where it wants. Resigning to my lack of knowledge and understanding is liberating, but to remain in the dark is laziness. Goodnight. Forgive my spelling.