Im a bit perplexed.
But even more so now
than in the last post five minutes ago.
Some days I feel idealism is my best friend.
Some days my worst enemy.
Who am I kidding? I am my own worst enemy.
I know its me. (Mea Culpa....yet again...)
Its like that Counting Crows song "...How do I keep myself away from me" *slams head in doorway*
If I could stay on Idealisms good side, things would be great. Like the matrix...things are good if you are plugged in and unaware. But I guess reality is a bitch. Its so uncomfortably real. I mean, who wants to wake up, anyway?
Deception, even misperceived (is that even a word?)...even not mal intended is integral.
I know on one hand, reality is so subjective. It passes through your own unique human filter and you put your humanistic spin on it. You can curl up with it and some nights it even lends the illusion of warmth. If the illusion of warmth is there, does it really matter if you are freezing to death? Is life just really about setting yourself up with a master illusion? I used to think that the magic was real you know. Then someone told be that it was all a fantasy set up for my personal viewing pleasure. Where does one draw the line? Where does it end?
Elliot says that humans cant bear too much reality. Uhm yeah, thank you Captain Obvious.
Einstein says that reality is just a persistent illusion. A very persistent one.