**note** i have not updated this blog in ages and I am sorry for the two or three readers that I do have. Is blogging somewhat fading into irrelevance? Anyway, I've been busy writing for this broadcast company and also trying to finish a small book. By a small book I mean a PDF that nobody would ever read but hey, I'm trying my best to be an accomplished failed writer.
19_06_06
nothing is forever the same as you were on the day you found out. about what though? The meaning of life is what I found out and I've been depressed ever since. The story goes like this:
A couple of us enrolled in an extracurricular philosophy class were to write a paper on the meaning of GOD in our society. Not thinking too much into anything, I just wanted a passing grade. This class was taken for the amusement of my parents so they had the extra hour or so a week to masturbate or anything else that needed to be done in discretion of us children. I took pride in knowing more than what my parents gave me credit for and with that in mind, I agreed to take this course with the stipulation of getting the computer I've always wanted with just a passing grade. None the less, I was ready to finish up the class when the topic of our last assignment came up. Who is GOD and how does he relate to our society in the grand scheme of things? It being a very generic question, I would reply with a generic answer. GOD is the end result of our search. The search for the question beyond all mighty questions: "What is the meaning of life?"
So there lay the question that would needed to be sought after. Of course in any one person's mind, they would think such a ridiculous question would bear no energy cost on my behalf to figure out. The question in many ways, is a rhetorical one and in every way, shallow, absent, don't matter and who cares. But that was just my opinion. But of course, I needed to pass the course and so pass it I would. I sat down in front of my desk and began to write what seemed to be the answer to all questions unanswerable. I wrote and wrote until my hands became stiff. I relaxed for a while and started back up again, only to run out of ink in my pen. I grabbed a new pen and began writing some more. I wrote for eight hours straight only to read back what I wrote in pure amazement. I had written almost thirty some pages of shit. I read it a second time, maybe I'd missed something on the first read. It was worse than the first time around except with the second time, I had realized what an idiot I was. I closed my eyes and went to sleep. Forgave myself for wasting eight hours and forgave myself for utterly being so naive and dumb. I told myself that tomorrow was a new day and that it'll all be better.
I woke up floating on top of some cloud and saw gold fishes flapping their gills to the sound of the beat. The beat that was playing on the out door speakers. Of course this is a dream that I was having but this night, it was no ordinary dream, it was a revelation. I had a vision and the vision was mine.
I awoke in ecstasy. Had been enlightened and saw the totality of my existence. This dream which I can not share with you, had been the dream not meant to have.
I sat down in front of my desk and wrote my paper once again. Five hours later I was done. I didn't want to go back and read the paper I had just written. I knew it was the best thing ever. Something that'll blow Kant and Nietzsche out of their seats. A piece of work so perfect and smart, it would have to be recognized. And all this because of a simple dream I had had. And so, I passed the course and had my paper in the local newspaper and different magazines and eventually I had received a lot of press about it. No one really grasped what I was trying to say in my essay. A lot of their interpretations was mindless jargon. Words that more or less confuse rather than elaborate. This caused quite a stir in my community. I had written something and it became something I'd never quite imagine it ever being. Something of importance.
I relished my moment on top of the world. Status quo and I was it.
Many years went by and I remember what I had dreamed about. Long after all the curtains had came down and the extraordinary amounts of fame and fortune had settled, a friend of mine came up to me and asked what I had dreamed about that night. And I answered, "shit."
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