i admire people who still look up even when the giant asshole in the sky shits on them. i have to think they were just programmed differently, but shit doesn’t get them down and that’s what i love. me, if i see a shitstorm i do what i consider a normal thing: i run towards open sky. some people stay put because of family or something. some adherence to a code or an ideal i never really understood.
which is why i came back to new jersey in the first place. i thought i was missing something. i told myself there was a reason i popped out of a new jerseyan vagina and that i owed it to myself to figure it out. it’s now been just over a year, and i’m 30 now, and i still don’t know any secrets. i thought i would learn it like at a university so in my mind i always imagined graduating new jersey before i left again. i would figure out the key to happiness here and take it with me wherever i went.
i realized on my october 14 that the secret was just to get out alive.
i realized also that most of my life has been an exercise in muffling my inner nag. when i drink tap water it says “don’t drink that” and when i work a 9-5 desk job it says “go to europe” and when i listen to it i enjoy being alive. i think the real cause of disease is that inner nag. if you ignore it, you’re fucked. if you listen, you’re saved.
The inner nag is my best friend. We’re happier than we’ve ever been now that we’ve found each other.
this makes too much sense.
returning home, i’ve always felt, was like watching a stage-that was once watched from behind the backdrop- from the seats.
i don’t know if that is conveying, but searching for understanding is like speaking in space probes.