fiction

I really ought to write fiction.

I do right fiction...I write scripts every now and again. But they're a little complex. Not sure if that's what I was really going for. I'm not the best at them. Takes a lot of w0rk to write a good one.

I write poems too. Fiction poems. They're not the best either. I know that. I don't feel like improving them. My style is raw: play it as it lies; use it as it falls out of my head. When one falls. That's it.

I've mentioned before what the title of this blog means. I said it right when I launched the thing. Something about it though is evolving. I am evolving. I'm learning; I'm adapting; I'm changing. Mostly though I'm falling. I have no control over it and yet I have full control over it.

Right now I'm just sitting in my underwear and a button up shirt...unbuttoned. I'm falling. I'm making a statement. And I'm not sure that I want to make that statement. Not under oath.

I'm always falling.

Life




is always falling. I'm learning how to improve my writing; but more importantly, I'm learning things about myself. I'm learning that I have things to say.

That makes me unpopular.

And I blame myself as if I am causing my own problems because I can't communicate well enough.

It goes back to my childhood, when I got in trouble several times by my parents, babysitters, neighbors, etc. They accused me of things that I couldn't defend myself. I wasn't good enough of a speaker--or I was too good of a speaker. People assume the worst of you when you're good at speaking. I had that problem in high school. My character was suspicious simply because I was good at looking innocent. Sometimes I was innocent, other times I was pulling pranks. But most times I was blamed anyway.

Put yourself in my shoes for a minute: I'm trying to persuade you. This whole blog is about persuasion--rhetoric. I persuade you to believe in morals. I persuade you to believe in my way of thinking. I teach you the art of persuasion as I understand it. Am I a reliable speaker? who knows. I don't even know sometimes. My brain plays tricks on me.

One more minute: I'm a dating coach. --or I was. Up until recently I didn't know that I wanted to be a relationship coach. That's all I cared about. Relationships. I have had many. I have very few. I have more than I claim to have. I don't want to claim some of them.
I have had "girlfriends" I have had "friends" I have had "lovers," "romances," "flings." I've developed a kind of power over the opposite sex. That's what sex is about really. Power. . . Among other things. I've had power. I don't want power. And for that I get more power.

just one more minute: I'm lonely though. I feel as though I have few intellectual equals. There was a time when I thought that I would never have an intellectual equal. It still hasn't happened. I still wonder. But back then, I had the balls to try pairing with someone stupid. Do you understand me? I had the balls to push forward with a marriage to someone I knew had physical flaws that I didn't have, who made stupid decisions that I didn't approve of, who talked about things I didn't care about, who liked everything I hated, who went about the world so ignorant and innocent that she was actually quite perverse and disgusting. I thought it would balance me out. I thought I knew what love was. I do know what Love is. But she didn't. I gave a part of myself to her. Not because there was any romance--I was hoping there would be more actually, but there wasn't. She couldn't provide for my financial needs. She couldn't provide my emotional needs. She definately couldn't provide me mentally. And hell, not even spiritually.

I thought she could. I thought her innocence would at least be something to fall back on. That was a lie on her part. She didn't know shit about morals. She had no ethics. She barely knew right from wrong. And yet I proceeded. I kept going. I kept thinking that one day she would snap and realize things and she would fit into the mold I was trying to fit her into in my head.

I've taken your time, but please, just a little more. Hear me out: I was going to marry this girl because I knew that -I- needed to get married. Because -i- am incomplete. I am missing a part of me.
But that part isn't necessarily companionship.
I don't know what it is anymore.
I thought I wanted someone I could talk to. Someone who could lean on me and I could lean on too. --I had that. I have that. I have friends who would take a bullet for me. They're the best kind of friends I could ever ask for in life. They'll listen to me if I talk. They'll stay up with me to chat. and I find myself loving them enough to stay up with them late at night to chat. To help them reach their goals. To help them succeed. I try to comfort them as much as possible, and when I can't comfort them I give them the space to make their own decisions and grow. And I was going to marry a girl who -I- could be that to. Who -I- could make happy every day. who -I- could be there for.
I was doing all of the work. All of it.

Why?

Because I have these feelings deep down inside that I don't have control over. That I have to vent every now and again. They're pent up creative energy. I want to create so badly.

I have other needs though. I have a lot of needs. But chiefly I have needs to understand what I don't understand. I have needs to live in reality to be connected to it, anchored to it. But I live in fiction. Everything I tell myself about life is a lie. I'm good at lying to myself. I'm good at dramatizing things. A lot of people are. More people than you might think.

If you tell people something enough, they eventually believe it. They break down and submit to it. That's why motivational speeches work so well. --You tell yourself that you're the greatest long enough and you become the greatest.

I tell myself every day that I own the world...its something I inherited by appreciating it, watching it, enjoying it. And somehow I DO own the world. I own my world. I own a part of the world through my experiences from my vantage point. I own it. Its somethign YOu will never own, and it's all mine. But that doesn't mean I physically own it.

You tell yourself something enough, it'll become true, whether in the way you want it to or not. And If I tell you something enough, you'll believe it too. I could lie to you every day; tell you how much of a saint I am, or how much of a devil I am. I could persuade you enough times and you would believe it.
You would believe it because you're lazy.
You would believe it because you can't formulate your own will enough.
You can't formulate your own opinions and so you succumb to "smart" peoples' opinions.
Most of them aren't smart.
Most people are full of shit I've found.
Rhetoric'll teach you that.
It takes a certain kind of person to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Lawyers can't even do it.
Because you have to know the truth to tell the truth
And then you have to have the morals to follow through with it,
No matter what.



So I could tell you what I need. How having a girlfriend or wife is going to fix that. But it's not. I could tell you how life's this happy place if only you believe it so; but it's not. I could tell you that I'm the worst dog there is. But I'm not. I could tell you that I'm a perfect saint. But I'm not. I could tell you that I'm SO smart. But I'm not.

I don't know where I stand.
All I know is where I want to be.
And when I reach that,
I don't want to be there anymore.
I want to be destined for greatness
but greatness is earned, not given.
I want to have that sublime moment
where I'm up so high
and now I'm falling.
But I never get high enough to do it.

I want to know where I stand
But I'm sure that if I figure out what my purpose is
in this messed up life,
I won't want to be there.
I won't want to follow through with my purpose
if you told me what it was.
No matter what it is, it's not high enough.
It could be emperor of the earth,
but it wouldn't be good enough.
I'd want to be the lowly peasant who holds the door for me at my house.
HIS life is exciting. He has such an easy job, he can't make a mistake.
He can sleep naked if he wants.
No one wants to kill him.
The only person who might hate him is the emperor.
And yet, if I were him,
I'd want more than that.


Like I said, I want fiction. I want what I can't have. I want to fill this hole in my life that I haven't been able to fill. The hole that I can't explain. The one that tells me there is something wrong. The one that I can't put into words. And I keep repeating it and touching on it over and over.
I want to be great. Sure. I'll admit that. --it may be pompous for me to do so though. I don't want to be pompous, but I have settled on better to be pompous than a nobody. I'm fine with that decision. And hopefully I'll dodge the actual bullet and I won't be a pompous.
I want to be pure. But why?--because it makes me a better person?(because it makes me above everyone else? because it gives me more power[spiritual]? Because I know that impurity hurts? Because I am accountable for my own actions?)
I want to be accountable. But is that because I don't want to hurt other people? Is that because being accountable leads to other opportunities and I know that I might need those opportunities?
I want to be free. I know that. If I am chained, I want it to be by my own self-control, and not because other people want to control me. But is that possible? Eventually other people may have to control me in order to keep the world running.
If it means having great attributes--being a part of something bigger than me, then...I'd give up my freedom.
I suppose I want to be a part of something bigger than me. Something influential. Because it makes me feel like there is a purpose to what I do with my life.
I want to have a reason for doing everything. But how do i differentiate between if the reason is a good reason or a bad reason?
If the reason for doing something is bad, obviously that doesn't make the action bad, because only outcomes are bad...it's not bad to shoot animals, but if shooting animals makes you go loco then it's not good for you to do so.

So...action reaction? Utilitarianism? What do I do with my life?