Too Deep (I'm Drowning)

It's because I see everything, you get it? All the bad, all the good. That's why I find myself as a variant between two extremes... that's why I can be so objective and detatched. And I'm not saying that what I do is a good thing. But I can't help it. Call it what you will -- mental instability, paranoia, insecurity, fear -- but when it boils down to it it is simply Dom. That's it.

Let me delve a little deeper into my own peculiar insanity.

I see everything. Every statement someone makes, every action someone takes part in connects to something else, whether it's something I've said, thought, or done, something someone else has said, thought, or done, or something that particular person has said, thought, or done themselves. You see, to me it's all connected, an intricate web of the good, the bad, the light, the darkness. And I have been given this gift/curse to be able to view things objectively.

So it's been imbued in me to look at everything, and collect it in my mind, keeping a mental record so that I can attempt to psychoanalyze people. So I get offended very easily. Not in the way that I hold a grude, or in the way that I get all pissy, no. It's just an unconscious reaction that I take the situation and analyze the hell out of it.

i.e. say a friend pisses me off. The action is, at this point, irrelevant. So do I react? No. I think. I look at me, at how it affected me initially and why, and whether or not my initialy reaction was favorable or unfavorable. If my discontent seems to be justified, then I move on to the friend. What's going on in their life right now? Problems at home? At school? With other friends? Are they aware that they're doing it, when do they do it, what mood are they in when they do it, do they do it to everyone? These are the questions that boil down to this: Are their actions excusable on the basis that they are victims of something else, something greater? And often times that answer is yes. So THAT is where I direct my anger, my hatred. To an idea. The victims are just that, victims, and aren't we all? But in the case that there is no excuse (excepting ignorance, because to judge an ignorant man is like judging a disabled child -- they don't know any better) there will be a reaction, and there will be retribution, and it will be justified in my eyes.

But I don't do it for revenge. Hell, I don't even do it for myself at all. I do it for them. I'm practically training them. Showing them the line, and what happens when you cross it. Showing them the consequences of their actions. Because nobody cares. That's the problem, that's this evil that keeps recurring in front of me. It's right in front of all of us all, but unfortunately I can see it, and the very grim sight of it drives me insane with emotion. I either fight, ignore, or succomb, and the latter of the three has never been an option.

So what happens to me is irrelevant, because I am something else. I am an idea, a symbol, and often not a man. But what happens to my fellow man is of the utmost importance. Because in some small way I am a guardian of this world. I'm obligated to dedicate myself to them, to guide them and show them life. To show them that life will always hurt more than cutting yourself. To tell them that life is not fair. And I speak with authority on the matter, because I know first hand. Because I can see it.

And now we arrive at the solution to my problem. Every single word above has been writen by me, but not by myself entirely. It is the job I have been chosen to fill, to be this entity of whatever the Hell it is. BUT I AM JUST A MAN. Just like everyone else. I am. And that has been taken from me. I can't keep from doing it, I can't help analyzing everything that flashes before me. But I know it. Because even though I'm just like you, in the end there is no 'we' that can bind us, there is no unified generalization that can contain men like us. And who are we? We are the playable characters.

I'm crazy, but God damn am I doing great right now.

Two points in conclusion. Since I made both, I'm split. Surprise surprise.

1) "Life is not a segmented dream. It is a running total, a collabrative compillation of everything that we are and know. Memories"

2 "No, life is a vacuuous continuum from which there is no escape aside from succombing to its one inherent flaw: death."

Commentary

And As For Deserving I Will Speak No More

Many that live deserve death, and many that die deserve life. Can you give it to them?

We've all heard it before. We've all said it before. Life is not fair. And somehow, no matter how many times we hear it or repeat it, it never truly sinks in. Why? Because deep down we all mean well. We're all good people (for the most part). So when things go wrong, it's natural to act a little dissapointed. There is little more frustrating than working and working in the hopes of your efforts paying off, and finally seeing that they aren't paying off at all. Or maybe I'm just reading too much into this. But am I wrong to say that good people deserve good things? Now, let's take me and my personal emotions out of the equation. To not do so would strip me of all credibility. Now let me ask again, am I wrong to say that good people deserve good things? No. And how often is life just, how often fair? Call me cynical, but my answer is rarely. Maybe you're all just a little too close-mouthed. Give some praise now and then. You think I'm satisfied? I'm not. You think I'm okay? I'm not. I'm one messed up guy. But there are people who "fix" me in a sense. Heaven forbid that they remove themselves from my life, but that's just a reality we're all going to have to face. Why? Because no matter what you earn, no matter what you deserve, life is always right around the corner, waiting to trip you on the slippery sidewalk. So prepare yourself, for when there's nobody around to pick you up. Even the aid of a friend is not to be counted on, as nothing is absolute. If only it could be. And maybe I'm wrong, because I see too much. Maybe my constant analyzation of every action I see condemns me to find the faults of people everywhere. But even then, for all my so called wisdom I cannot even fathom the workings of an opposing mind. Only I can be true to myself. But I love others. I love them with all of my heart. And who is to say which of them I love, and if any I love more? Then why? Because that in itself brings up another issue of worth, of deserving. And so I've managed to ramble on, but not say anything at all. So as for deserving I will speak no more, but I can only hope that somebody somewhere will love me back the way I love them. I know one thing -- you can trust me. That I promise.

Commentary