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Good Intentions

May 15, 2010

It’s nearly 3:30 in the morning, and I really should be getting to bed, but lest I forget that which is most important, I should hold record to the motivations that have made me the man that I am, and that which ultimately will decide the nature and magnitude of my future.

I have always struggled with understanding my own motivations, which are so abstract that I often wonder if it’s really just all made up– bullshitting and rationalizations that I create as a defense mechanism; perhaps it is to hide from myself the emptiness that fills my heart, the awareness that in the end I am alone, the inevitable fact that nothing I do will be enough to truly justify that I have lived a good life, or validate that my life had any merit or meaning at all.

Truly an existentialists’ journey, one destine to meet a beautiful yet fatalistically melancholic end.

I have often wondered if perhaps it would be better to continue full-fledged in this direction in which I am going, forgetting what others would think– what my social conscience reminds me each day, and just let go of everything– unleash the “beast” within me, become homeless, and focus my entire being on the creative energy that lurks within me.

Ironically, if I were to take such a path, i would technically be less crazy, but the extremes required to consummate such a dream would render “technicalities” irrelevant, as the price of that kind of fulfillment would reduce me to a madman, although perhaps there is not a word in the english language that could give proper appreciation to the level of art that such a person would manifest.

That is: to become art– that is one of my dreams.

But in the end, despite my good intentions, I am continually losing sight of the things that I believe in– the beliefs to which my life should manifest. I say every day “you are what you believe in”; but, as I am unwilling to take my own beliefs seriously, there is no actualization, only an empty dream that I perpetually avoid for fear that I would be corrupted by my own fantasies.

Yes I am afraid of something, but only one thing: Myself.

Not because I don’t know who I am– by now, having written enough content for several PhD quality books, I know exactly who I am, and I know exactly what I want. But, as I’ve said many times in the past, What I want will destroy Society!

Inspiration– in the end that’s really all that I wanted. But I could never stop at just a little bit of inspiration– I can’t any more that a sex-driven guy could settle for a platonic relationship. Inspiration is my sex– my drug, and I need it to keep sane.

And yet, as is also the paradox will all other drugs, it is the very same inspiration that I need that will destroy me. The more that I consummate my desires, the more that my desires will consume me.

It is a path with no future, and despite my good intentions– a path to utter destruction and for lack of a better word, Hell.

I am trying to be a good Christian– really, I am. My heart may not be entirely in it, but this is the most my heart has ever been into anything, and I’m sure God can forgive me for lacking the resolve to 100% commit. Perhaps for which parts of my heart that I am still unable to turn over to Christ, he will forgive me until such a time that I am spiritually mature enough to follow-through with these decisions?

One question that I have tried for a while now to answer: Are my motives for my actions valid? Is my heart in the right place?

If I were to fulfill my ambitious goals and dreams– take over the world, become God, make obscene amounts of money, destroy Society, achieve perfection– revolutionize everything forever more– What good would it do if my heart was in the wrong place? If there was no love in my heart to back it up?

After all, the only reason why I would try to do great things in the first place would be to validate my craziness. To say– “hey! There are merits to being crazy! The world is wrong about mental illness! It’s a gift, not a disease!”

But knowing what direction the world is going, and what the world needs most to be happy, We don’t need creativity. Everyone was always happier with “Good Enough”. It’s us crazy people that demand change, and we only demand it because we are projecting our own insecurities onto the world– saying, “It’s not Me at fault, it’s the world”. To revolutionize the world because of one’s own insecurities– only lunatics would do something like that!

I really don’t know why things work the way they do. I don’t know God’s plan for my life, and I don’t even know if I know God…if history tells us anything, believing in God is probably just wishful thinking. But that’s the kind of wishful thinking I need right now, and if there is a God, I’m sure that he’ll forgive me for my selfishness– he is the person who put me in this situation after all…

But one thing’s for certain: If I am to live my life, I cannot live it for myself, because it’s become abundantly clear that my own good intentions are bound for ruin and destruction. What I want can only cause harm, so there is no way that I can live for myself.

But if I must live for myself a little, if only to ensure balance between what I want (Individualism) and what the world wants (Collectivism), I will continue expressing what I want in the most creative way that I can: writing.

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