Thursday, October 8, 2009

Hard Times In New York Town

It seems to me heroin would be awesome. I know its not; anyone who has spent time around your run-of-the-mill scag addict knows this. But I still think that a complete and utter detachment from all earthly concerns with a high that makes sex seem like a chore would be an interesting thing to try. I have decided that should I make it to 80-ish, or develop a terminal disease I'm going to try it.

After reading that I wonder what that says about me. The part about wanting a detachment from reality I mean. What would a psycho-analysis show? What would a shrink say? But the more I think about it the more I don't care.

Who are they to judge me? They have their lives "together" and shit so they are in a position to speak as to my mental well-being? That's bullshit. What makes a person better able to judge another person? Wealth, personal happiness, responsibility, contributions to society at large, the ability to look at themselves in the mirror and be satisfied, or a portmanteau of all these things?
I don't know and anyone who says they do can shove it. Anyone's life is more complex and beautiful and fascinating than anything fiction can come up with and outside judgment just falls flat.

I might not be that rich or beautiful or successful or smart or fast or happy as someone else, but I'm me. And I'm pretty sure that's enough.

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