I have come to the decision that I am displeased with reality.

It upsets me.

And when I tell other people this, they look at me and ask, "What part?", and I do not have an answer. They then proceed to tell me about the parts that THEY think are fucked up.

I find this both annoying, and comforting.

Comforting, because it makes me feel less alone. Annoying, because typically I like being alone, and I can't stand the fact that they are nitpicking at one singular thing when really, reality as a whole is fucked up in ways that neither they, nor myself, can possibly comprehend.

I don't really know what is wrong with me. I'm not overly depressed. As a whole, I generally like my life. I'm not suicidal. Perhaps I'm too stubborn for that, and the desire to know what the fuck is going on is outweighed by the desire to fuck off.

I'm almost out of debt, I've got high hopes of making music, the rain that I asked for finally came (I say finally, when in fact it ALWAYS comes in October, which is generally about the time that I am asking for it); I found a roommate, so I no longer have to pay too much for rent -- so what the hell. Crap. I have to pee again. One moment...

AHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. There. Relief... of a sort.

But here I am, sitting in my relatively comfy cubicle (if you remove the fact that it's not ergonomically correct), watching the wind whipping the trees through the giant glass windows, asking myself (or whoever may be listening), "Why?".

Douglas Adams would probably say that I'm a sad civilization, stuck in the second phase of existence, and I really should consider pulling my head out of my ass and going to get a good bite to eat.

Blah blah blah.

But anyway, back to the trees. It seems that everything I look at has a soft outline, reminiscent of the after-image of a camera when it flashes in your face. Somehow this seems signifigant to me, and I find myself often wondering what would happen if I tried to push my finger through a wall. Would I succeed because I believed that the wall was not there, or would I fail because it is? Or, would I fail because I believed that it is there at some level -- which I almost certainly do?

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Disclaimer:

Yes I've seen the matrix, yes I had these thoughts before it came out. No, I do not believe that computers rule the world or that I am "the one", and yes, I probably watch too much sci-fi.
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I ask myself, is there a way to condition your mind so that you can step outside of the rules of reality? And if I did, what would be the point? Exploration? What would I do with that kind of power? Almost certainly abuse it, but would there really be such a thing as abuse? I ask -- when the constructs of reality are merely illusion, what is abuse? Is this trap that we call reality worthy of reverence, or does it honestly need a good beating? Do YOU feel happy here? Really?

Would we just be waking up into another level of a dream?

...Did I make this? Did we make this? Did I fabricate this for myself? Am I a part of god gone wrong? Are we god? You the reader, and I the writer? Am I just a thought, a scout, who has been sent to collect as much data as I can, so that when I die I can report to some god-jury and say, "This is the problem, and here is the answer." ?

And if so, should I actively be seeking the answer...

... Should I be seeking the question?

I went and saw Cirque du Soleil. They were amazing. The fire dancer was amazing, and awakened in me a familiar static which I can't really describe. The tumblers/jumpers were fantastic. Such grace and skill. I envy them. It was an amazing show, but I asked myself, "Why can't I do that?". Of course, I got the typical response, "You can do anything you want to!".

Now, I know this statement is true. But it's a bit more complicated than that. Either there is something wrong with me mentally that prevents me from applying myself to my maximum potential, or...

...well, there is no "or". I think that's probably it. Mental Problems.

Am I lazy? Am I so caught up in my "routines" and "processes" and the structure of our civilization that I am afraid to break free, say, "Fuck you all!" -- and to the great disappointment of my creditors, spend every waking hour practicing jumping on a trampoline, playing on a guitar, twirling fire-sticks, singing into a microphone, or sticking my finger through an extremely stubborn wall?

I guess, maybe that might be it. Or maybe, because I am impatient, I would get "bored", or disappointed with myself that I am not immediately seeing progress. Perhaps my immediate expectations are too high, and I have problems sticking to a vision and path of the future.

Why can't I break free?