Of course I enjoy fiction. The poetic and the inspirational words. It is the movement of them. The rhythm like a train chugging along, or quick, feral attacks against your conscience. The story jabs at you. Breaks down defenses. Brings inside warm, pure and honest joy. It is the reason beyond all. The huge capacity of human potential. "It's on the best-seller list" does not mean shit to me. That is never a sign of great literature. That is a sign of great marketing or a whimsical narrator that everyone knows. A joke of novel, mostly teenage drivel. I'm of course being much too harsh. The world has shifted. People enjoy video games. I enjoy learning and reading. They argue for eye and hand coordination. True. It is stimulating the brain. But at the absence of self-revelations? Do they play these games and find about the true nature of the fabric of their being?
Worry about the next fix and entirely forget the concert we should have been in attendance.
"I'm worth so much more than you can offer me" - attitude. Awful excuse for humanity at its worst. The person who enjoys historical texts but considers themselves a forward thinker. Definitely not a contradiction. Simply an interesting thought. I seem to be all out of interesting thoughts at the moment. All hope slipping through the cracks because I've allowed them to widen.
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Global sensibilities. Why would anyone give a fuck about anything I write and put online? We all sometimes have feelings of incredible inadequacy
