Your Daily Love Injection

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When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor’d youth,
Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.

Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth supprest.

But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love’s best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:

Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter’d be.

- William Shakespeare

The Infinite Abyss

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Have you ever been on a surfboard, trying to catch a wave, and waiting endlessly before realizing you weren’t in the water? Well, me neither. But I did sleep at a Holiday Inn last night.

I’ve thought about a lot of things in the past few days, but ironically now that my head is full of stuff I have nothing to write. I was going to start writing about the infinite abyss that Buddha calls suffering, that was so amply addressed in Garden State as the familiar sense of pain and suffering associated with just existing in this world.

I don’t buy it. Life isn’t a continuous influx of pain and confusion. Sure, sometimes we don’t think we’ll make it, but we do. Sometimes we feel miserable, but something always picks us up. We could just as easily describe life as discontinuous happiness with learning between the high points.

No, the glass isn’t always half full. Some glasses are empty, broken, on fire, or just missing. But it seems rather extreme to just say, “fuck it all” and dismiss all of your pain as a side effect of simply existing.

God, Buddah, Allah, Jesus, Odin, and Ronald McDonald — they all have something in common. They serve as reasons why it’s okay that life sucks, and reasons to be scared. No, I don’t have a point. Enjoy.

So once again I wonder what happened to cause and effect. If you don’t like your situation, it’s probably because of something you did. It’s not just, “oh well I’m alive, not my fault” — it IS your fault, and yeah that sucks, but on the other hand, it’s cool because you can fix it.

Randal in Clerks had it right. He finally got fed up with Dante’s shit and said, “You sound like an asshole. If you want to blame somebody, blame yourself.” And I don’t know what that means, but it’s not my fault if it means something.

This blog makes no sense, and it’s only because you’re alive.