by say

I don't understand when everybody got so smart about everybody else. Perhaps people are predictable, but who would know that for sure, within the confines of our peripheral vision? How accurate is science? How accurate are our minds? Do these writers of social and psychological theory really believe they have hit on something phenomenal, something true, something no one else has thought of? Or are they just trying to get by in careers that dabble in maybe, and brains that run amok with potential eventualities?

[If you are an astute reader, you probably noticed that some of the questions I just phrased were pointed towards certain answers. It could be (I refuse to state anything in certain terms, for fear of self-contradiction!) that society has inclined me to attempt to persuade you haphazardly, unwittingly, even as I rebel against attempts to persuade. People have to think they have pretty damn near the right answer to write anything of merit about it, without watering it down with qualifications and acknowledgement of generalizations to the extent that the reader loses interest entirely, or misses the point. Perhaps this is what is wrong with my writing. This has been an unforeseen tangent.]

I read what’s what in the papers, in books, in textbooks. I listen in lectures as well as casual conversations. I am a sponge, I soak everything up. It runs from brilliant to murky, from colorful to gray, in the process of amalgamation. I can’t seem to pop out another Sarah for every opinion I’ve ever held, so the best I can do is make a stew and hope it doesn’t taste too bad.

People are like arrows! No they aren’t. How can you justify that statement? People tend in certain directions, and potentially could be followed, depending on their clarity and placement on the planet. So how does that make them like arrows? I don’t know, I lost my train of thought. Maybe it doesn’t.

STOP IT! I don’t want your doubt that begs for assent. I don’t want to hear that you have the answers, either. Too many people think that already. Don’t worry about watering it down though. You don’t even have to say it, if you know that your perspective is probably not the only valid one, and certainly not the only one, then it will be enough. You in yourself are enough, aren’t you? You are not the only person on the planet, and you are not the answer to everything. I want to hear your ideas. I want to incorporate you into me, whether I like you or not. I want to expand as your words expand within me. We will stretch out endlessly, hoping to touch the edges of the earth before we break.

Have you ever felt moved to the point where your skin prickled and your eyes clouded? You feel the desperate need to sit or lie down, and the whirring in your ears drowns out any interruption of your epiphany? You know that this is what you want, that this is a part of you, and that you have seen truth? Then the next day, you go on with your life. Disillusionment. You realize that truth may be here or there, but you are no more sure than last week, or last month, or ten years ago. Has that ever happened to you? It makes me wonder if I am making progress, or if I remain suspended, like in gel. It is as if there may or may not be some grand puzzle that we are expected to put together, and it may or may not consist of some vast and unimaginable number of pieces. Now if that wouldn’t take a lifetime to put together, given you probably don’t know what the darn thing is supposed to be a picture of, consider that you only really get a piece every now and again, on odd occasions, just as the last piece has started to collect dust in the open back pocket of those jeans you used to wear, when they fit, when they were in style. Now the puzzle has the potential of being insurmountable, unless you are crazy and decide you can just hot glue random pieces together at right angles and call it artwork, complete! Though perhaps it is those people who feel a sense of accomplishment, despite the potential that the accomplishment has no validity whatsoever; and it is an accomplishment that the rest of us cannot feel. And then irrationality becomes a decision. Would you rather be happy, or right? Would you rather be an Egyptian slave for the duration of your life, or would you rather be the idiot on the side who sings incoherently until the foreman knocks him senseless and dumps his body in the pit of mortar?

depth perception... le what?

[DISCLAIMER: I have to apologize; sometimes strange things come out when I write. I do not censor. I think my ideas may be conveyed, but I could probably do it more subtly, or less subtly and more pleasantly.]

I know I have not said anything groundbreaking. I know I do not even need to acknowledge this, because you know it as well, even if you happen to be moved, which I doubt because I myself was not particularly moved to write this until ten seconds ago, to be honest. But perhaps it is worth consideration. It is exposure. It is part of your essence now, seconds of your life that you will never retrieve. It is.