on the outside,
inside...
everyone's got their own
neurotic devil
or I do, at least
which is something
I know,
so I'll start with the facts:
FACT: life's a
bitch without
a god in the sky
to blame for your
every imperfection.
but maybe that's because
we're always looking for
excuses:
if not god, then
that black cat or
the bergouise
or the government
or the biggest
baddest
Other
that overdetermines
our every
move.
FACT: we are thrown
into this be-shitted world
without a who, or a why
or a even a morsel
of significance.
there is no "being"
with a capital B
we start with
nothingness and upon
that Tabula Rasa,
shape ourselves in
a constant cycle of
becoming.
That is to say,
"existence precedes essence."
Fact: each moment
is it's own decisive
fold.
You and I are no
more than the collective
sum of our own actions
and experiences.
Every moment we are
faced with the grave
burden of "choice"
and every decision
holds a unique
opportunity cost
that will decide the
rest of our lives.
some,
more than
others.
I call this
hope,
Humanity:
my existential
neurosis.
subjectivity
must be the
starting
point.