Dear god, what did I get myself into?
If you don’t know, about 11 days ago, I committed to 30 consecutive days of sharing my thoughts publicly.
What was I thinking?
I’m starting to wonder that myself right about now.
I never considered the fact that I might run out of things to write about. Maybe I should have planned ahead, or had a few articles ready on the fly. Maybe I should have prepared for moments like this. For the moments when nothing makes sense. When the only thought going through my head is “Go lay in bed!” For moments when I must not only fight the world, but must also fight myself. To create, to live, to smile.
It’s not that I’m at a loss for words. There are always plenty of words running through my head. But if I were to put them out to the world in their raw form, none of you would be able to understand them. None of you would be able to deal with the havoc that they are so capable of wreaking.
Instead I must massage and manipulate those thoughts. I must mold them so that you can read them and enjoy them as an interesting story. As beautiful allegory.
I wonder if any of you could last a day inside of my head?
I wonder if I could last a day inside of yours?
I wonder what it will be like when we are able to experience each other so intimately. Maybe that will be the 22nd century orgasm. The ability to jump into someones brain in a way that was never before possible. Combining your emotional experiences with those of another through the blending of technological and chemical processes. An experience that will surely make sexual relationships obsolete. After all, we’ll probably be ordering perfect babies online by then.
What the hell are you even talking about Raymmar?
Just random thoughts, a few of the many that come to me through the course of any given day.
By the way, is it day 11 or day 12 of this challenge? Who even knows?
Wait what? It’s your challenge, you should know!
Shit, it’s not even half way through and it seems all I have left are fractions of thoughts. Thoughts about business mixed in with thoughts about bills. Thoughts about paying them and about trying to get by until the next time they come back around. Just a few of the random thoughts that I always deal with as a fledgling entrepreneur who keeps his brain out on public display.
The thoughts of a guy who keeps it real in his writing as well as the world he lives in. Something that has proven to be more costly than initially anticipated. So much for the freedom to be free. Turns out it’s pretty expensive to be free.
This website and some of my thoughts, have cost me A LOT of money in consulting contracts over the last year and a half.
The language, the raw expression of emotion. The religious references, the political rants. All of it has upset potential clients enough to lead them elsewhere for services that I was best suited to deliver. Rejected based on open expressions and thought. Rejected for everything this country is supposed to be known for. For poking fun at the things that we are not supposed to talk about publicly. Things that we are supposed to think only for ourselves.
Because the narrative needs to be controlled in order to be effective. And it would upset the balance if too many of us actually figured it out at once. If enough of us realized that life is a game, and then actually started to play it. And learned that the rules of this world are not written in stone. They are written by men and made to be challenged.
Imagine if the whole world was willing to admit that they might be wrong. About something. About anything. About everything. Maybe even about themselves.
Imagine if we could understand that at the end of the day, we are all human. That we are all capable of excellence, yet equally capable of making mistakes. That none of us are perfect. And that just because someone want us to pretend to be that way, does not mean we have to.
So here is another day of my thoughts. As random a glimpse into the back of my brain as you’ll ever get. As I sit here, avoiding myself and exposing myself, all at the same time. Trying to connect you to a piece of yourself that we all recognize, but hate to admit. Like riding a moped to the grocery store. It might be fun until your friends see you, but then the explanation begins. Because there is always an explanation isn’t there?
Always a reason. And that reason is never us? But maybe it should be.