Wednesday, May 16, 2012


Who are you?
What makes you special?
I'd wager if I asked you, you wouldn't know the answer.
I'd wager with a gun to your head, the answer would come from friends and family a week later at your funeral.
But would you agree with it?
I mean if I sat you down with everyone you know, handed out paintbrushes and asked for a portrait, how many different versions of you would exist? And would they be compatible?
Would you end up as some artistic abomination with Van Gogh features and Picasso proportions, or would everyone be just as stupefied, and hand back a stack of blank canvas?

How do you prefer your perceptions?
Do you want them to know who you are?
Do you want you to know who you are?

Do you, or have you ever, engaged in psychophilia?
Letting your philosophies represent your psychology to those around you, adding lines and trick shading to yourself to present the illusion of depth like you were born of the vanishing point.

See we all have superpowers - granted early in life, we learn to project an illusion before our true selves - presenting an image of who we'd like to be , and staring at it just long enough ourselves to believe we're already there. Holding the kind of self-importance that would suggest we didn't spend the first few years of our lives shitting ourselves.

It feels sometimes like grade school never really ended. It just got more subtle.

Our swingsets have turned into cars, and we're still trying to go all the way around the bars - Those of us who go fast enough to do it invariably die in the attempt. We've all still got a little gravel in our teeth.

So between that time and this one...who have you become? Is it you our your image that's adapted and advanced?

I'd wager if I asked you, you wouldn't know the answer.

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