eat me henger

at the end of the path i see myself either abandoned by friends and family or in the warm company of strangers. i notice that i don't do well with people i deal with regularly. i'm not consistently and sustainably amiable. all i'm really good for is the occasional profound encounter. i'll deeply understand people, sometimes more so than they understand themselves, but i'm not really their best friend. i'm just sharing my talent of having a good sense of whatever someone is thinking of or going through. it would have been nice if their best friends had that skill, that would've made their relationships invaluable. but 9 times out of 10, i don't share their values. i'm a functional outsider. i don't believe in the same things the same way. i will have vastly different perspectives that nobody wholly understands. i'm never the ally because i always consider the validity of the enemy. it's really best to keep my distance with people. that way...

very rarely do i see people come up with ideas of their own. i find that people for the most part have only been parroting ideas or anecdotes. their words have value because they repeat the words of smarter, funnier, or outspoken figures. anyone can immediately upgrade themselves as long as the requisite memory and eloquence to co-opt words of wisdom. which works, again for the most part, cause it ensures harmonious relationships among people with similar values. people will gravitate toward resonant sentiments. it creates a social support system, and that's good. but it doesn't sit well with me that majority of people will settle with just being mere mirrors of other concepts. perhaps it's because i have poor recall so i can't accurately regurgitate the various knowledge i've been consuming. i start with describing the right name of the person, place or thing, but midway through my narrative, i fumble my facts and just spin the story to make sense in the end. but a...

i'm afraid of dental appointments. i had a near miss with root canal operation. i feared it so much that it put my openness to death in perspective. i had thought i was not afraid of dying. but i really worry. how much would it hurt to have a heart attack? how much would it hurt to have cancer? how much would it hurt to be in a vehicular accident? then again, i realized i was really only afraid of pain. i don't want to get hurt. not anymore. it's unfair for me to welcome the benefits of death when i want to avoid the negatives that come with it. i guess what i really do want is an escape. i just want to be relieved with the burdens of life. but as with anything good, there's a cost to it. it's a choice between the wonders of life and the bullshit that people and circumstances bring, or the release of dying and the immense pain of having your corporeal form terminated. it's not a no-brainer.