What teh hell is wrong with me?!

i just spent an hour trying to get up the nerve to text someone. one of my freinds. because i've been sitting in this chair for the past week and staring at this computer.

but whenever i try to think of something todo for fun, this question comes up: what's the point?
sure, i could go to teh bookstore again, but why? to sit in a chair adn not read anything because then i'll want to buy it so instead i get bored and have to drive all the way across town back home.
yeah, that's fun.

but back to the first topic-- why am i so afraid to attempt to communicate with people? i don't think it's fear of rejection, i've ben rejected before and its not so bad.
i think it's a fear tha people will see how bad i am at trying to relate to them and laugh. or worse-- they'll find out i actually NEED them.

yes it's a tough thing to admit, but you'll go crazy living in a box with no outlet for your words. i know; i've been there. but if you don;t reach out and try, then it's your own fault when you actually do go crazy.

what i really want is to have a conversation. but it's hard for me to relate. not converse, i mean, i do that rather well, or at least pretend to. but beyond teh superficial-- an actual, meaningful conversation, about something i want to talk about for once! it's hard for me to connect with people on a meaningful level.

it's been said that great men are often lonely. but then my other mind asks teh question, "since when are you so great?"

fictional characters and truth

fictional characters are some of teh most fascinating people i know. “…to quote a bible: ‘the water monster is right, cat man. They are among us.’”~Mark Cakes

you know, all fiction authors are deep down philosohers, we're just already aware of teh fact that we're fooling ourselves.

and all philosophers are in search of one great thing-- truth. truth is like nickelodeon gak. a sticky substance with a high viscocity. it runs all over the place, a little of it clings to every thing it touches once it's opened, and once it's opened, you can never gather it all up again. it's tough to pin down.

the author's way of considering truth is to construct an elaborate simulation in which fictional characters are dealt hypothetical problems and are forced to deal back. but all too often, they neglect to consider the most likely scenario-- that the character will simply avoid dealing with the problem. that's boring.

pilosophers work in a similar way, but they lack a narrative in which to frame their hypothetical scenarios. plus they smoke a lot of weed.

i never liked philosophers, but i've finally found one who doesn't piss me off. Mark "Baby" Cakes of Brad Neely's internet cartoons has much to say that is deep and profound, and completely true.

consider this excerpt fomr one of Mark's lectures which neatly outlines teh motivation of every one in real life, and most fictional main characters:
"…and there is always some poor kid who has a sucky life, but then he’s visited by someone from a hidden world of awesomeness who explains to the kid that the kid is the chosen kid, and everyone is waiting for him; to fight, and to win, and to accept treasure, and to accept love, and to rule the hidden world of awesomeness like the handsome little asshole that he is. Huh, happens all the time, right? I guess every one of us is just hoping to turn out to be one of those forgotten chosen ones, right?"


this ties the realms of fiction and the real world togather in a manner truly exemplary of their symbiosis, because while Mark's words are true for us, his own beleifs about them are warped. it took a fictional character to show us IRL the truth about what our life is like even though he never knew the real truth himself.

now that's irony.