Tuesday, January 06, 2026

disposition due to archiac-insomnia

 January 6th 2010


I do not waste my time on being judged. It is something, that as a person speaking in an albeit unabiding, forced, perhaps perishable vernacular has altered my thinking. In an honest attempt, I find closure rests in my ability, that the judgee is no longer the judger. Are they inferior, that they can no longer change freely, pretend, modify or trust what feeling's they have - are coming from. This is what amazes me completely from moment to moment. Yet, spending my life in no particular method of it, here I am unpredictable as ever. So, how does it matter, if something so abstract, plays upon my refusal of that thing. What thing, I may ask, does my thinking include. Or may I preside over it, in a fashion all my own, of my own doing so naturally. It brings me to this important alternative method in reasoning. That thinking due to reason is not a fracture of this place, where, fear, or smell, or taste, it's no rational process I undergo. Is that what a person defines another - in a process until such is not so much unsatisfying. Thereby is another important answer, one must consider.

When I was told, all the best, from this new year. I scanned it with an attentive sense of belonging to that phrase, if it was given in a sense I could carry with it, my own well being. The question remained with me for some time. I've thought about it, not concluding what it may entail. This person has never said that to me before, why not. Why not in another multitude of other years past. So this struck me as a valid consideration. Then, I began to probe where such an ideological signal must have pronouned itself, that it was directed to me, not as though a threat in some subconscious paranormal activity would suggest it, but a very real yet peculiar vision. Of the kind one has - as if they've been set up for failure, impending doom or disaster i.e. fight or flight. The psychological nature of this event, doesn't nearly describe with such magnitude, it was simply a part of the will, my will, to uncover it's origin. I'm not so much of a fatalist myself. However, my presentation - not so that it is based as insincere. It became clear to me that something else was happening.

So, when the mystery kept unfolding itself, I saw so much less of how my life has become. I Am speaking of the type of event we're now dealing with, which, did happen. It's a come as you go sort of thing, when a person who doesn't even know you, makes a personal gesture in verbally informing you of they're careful intention. Whether it is right or wrong, good or bad, we are cutting our loses, we've come here to make this announcement. I also guessed, right then and there, how humiliation tactics are so common in life as in death. That people actually believe which they are experts in the field. What a good mind to register who wants to play the villain, I find, know nothing about it.

Then I smile to myself. Like I do only if it is so - they've tried to rain on my magical parade. Look at the weather out there I tell them, are you sure you want to go out there dressed in that, ill advised you are. Yet, I count on the circle of my memory, to take me back to so many other time's after I as told, we're cutting our losses, we're cutting our losses. How negatively I feel affected. I suppose I'm sensitive like that. But, you know - when medusa rears her ugly head, you must cast a mirror that she turns to stone. Then where am I, I ask myself, so I pretend to make it rain, just somewhere else where it matters, for a future parade I'm travelling in. It's not so bad, I reassure myself, it's not so bad. You keep telling yourself, things that no one else can ever have thought themselves - about me. So, I move on. Spare me the humiliation, I TELL THEM. I tell them that I honor how cutting their losses, means something far more than I would ever have dreamed. I mean to say, what, how could I have. Really, it striked me as more than odd, when I first heard how these messengers could so easily deviate from the norm, a set of standards unknown to my unsuspecting nature, how cunning, how planned it was.

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