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| It's a question of where you burn off your effort and what holds real value. It's not an easy question to answer.
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| I have been that tool for so many people, it's daunting to think about it. A fast pry-bar to smash through a problem or a slow burning fuse that eventually touches off a rocket. I can be many things. Have been many things.
For so many, many people. And for so long.
But under it is still me, under all of that... the masks, the disguises, and through all of the terrible things I have done to so many people in names not my own... I am still me.
A confused, lost idealist. A little boy trying to find home but growing more terrified as he realizes that not only does he not know the way he can't ever remember being there.
Desperately clinging to his semi-secret ideals and hiding under layer after layer of obfuscation and pain his ultimate goal.
His machinations.
His revolution.
His... future.
Using skills honed by horror and morality that would barely be called that by most I will forge ahead and, slowly but surely, I will drag you all with me.
If I could build the new world all by myself I would, but unfortunately I need you.
So the revolution.
And so, the future.
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"Do you think you can play god?" - "Of course not... there is no god."
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| With the sufficient application of alcohol the world starts to take on a distance... too much and it ends up on the far end of a deep well, but just enough and you're still part of it but you can still step back and be safe from it.
I had forgotten about this feeling. This is why I originally fell prey to the damnable substance in the first place.
It's funny that under the effects of a depressant I can suddenly feel so energized. But it's only in my mind... physically I'm drained, as drained as a full day plus a depressant should make you. But my mind... it's going a mile a minute.
I remember that, too, from the dark forgotten times. Until I managed to drink away even my cognition I was thinking at light speed without anything to get in my way.
But there is no real way to make use of this. I tried, once upon a time, and I failed. I ended up wasting months of my life, damaging myself badly in the process, and found another way not to make a light bulb.
But what is the next way to try, and fail, to invent it?
Life... it's so goddamn difficult sometimes.
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| There was a time when I could effortlessly create wonders. When beauty crystallized in my mind and the wonders all around me were almost effortlessly put to words.
That time is gone.
I don't know if its the medication, or just life, but I can't make anymore. I can't write.
I want to drive, with cameras galore, and just find the hidden places wherever I can. The forgotten little spaces and ignored people, and learn their stories. Capture their images. Eternalize them so no matter how much they are forgotten they will persist.
Maybe then it would come back. Maybe that would be my penance...
Maybe I could find that hidden place in Madison where it all begins and ends...
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