Fourteen-million miles away from sane

I don't know that I actually have much to say. But I'll start typing and stop when I feel I've said something, even if it isn't deep or important. I gotta talk. Say something. Express myself, manifest my thoughts. Speak the fuck up.

I once asked someone the meaning of life. I was told that the meaning of life is to find meaning in life. I immediately dismissed it as blitheness.

Could it be so simple? A change in prepositions? Simple isn't the best word, I admit, but is there really no greater purpose? People are always telling me I should live for love or God or justice, but what if all I'm supposed to do is find my niche? Other people tell me that all I'm supposed to do is pass on my genes and die. So, since I don't plan on kids, does that mean I should simply exterminate myself since I'm just draining the planet's resources without contributing to the diversity of my species?

So. Find meaning. I don't know where to even find the proverbial stones to overturn. Either "find meaning in life" is just mere restatement, or ambiguous statement. Perhaps it would be more apt to make meaning of life.

I don't like to think that meaning is hiding from me. "Find" is a stupid word, in this case. I also don't like how the word infers that it could just be lying around, an ease to collect. Nor do I care for the implication of possession. You can't own meaning. You can only understand meaning or create it.

So. Make meaning. What do I have to work with? Meager financial situation, an over-interest in the abstract, and loneliness. Let's put a positive spin on that. I'm a "hapless intellectual Bohemian romantic." I like the sound of that.

What can I do to create? Well, the idea of having some control makes me a little giddy. I don't have much to work with, but judging from my means, I'm going to write. Write and think. Think about people--the human mind. How it works, why it works.

I've never believed in fate, and I don't know if I believe in God. Additionally, I'm not going to let myself become subject to my own negligence. To create meaning, I must grab the reigns. My control will be the stylus with which I'll write my life. And right my life. And right my wrongs.

I think I might be crazy.
I'm fourteen-million miles away from sane. Drop - Blue October.
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Soundtrack
All Along the Watchtower - Jimi Hendrix - Electricladyland (1968)
Poem - Taproot - Welcome (2002)
No Cigar - Millencolin - Pennybridge Pioneers (2000)
Everything to Everyone - Everclear - So Much for the Afterglow (1997)
Climbing to the Moon - Eels - Electro-Shock Blues (1998)