I have been thinking too much about causality and the nature of self and I can only come up with one explanation regarding the tragedy that my life has become. If one makes the mistake of looking back at the time line of ones own experiences the person facing the future (or the part of self in the past facing the future) can be said to be ones own father of the present. In this light there is only one thing that makes sense; I really was for one reason or other sacrificed to this horrific mechanism.
I can go on and on blaming Ron Howard and his goons at Imagine Entertainment; I can accuse all the various people around me with their ongoing strange behavior for my problems but none of them would never admit their part in this and even if they did it wouldn’t make me feel and better. That special feeling of potential is gone; and gone forever. Potential which was only an illusion anyhow. In truth I never stood a chance to do anything meaningful anyhow; I was born Native in North America. The language, the culture, the system has all been set against me; the very reason why the European middle class was forced to leave Europe and conquer North America was because of lack of opportunity and diminishing resources and so this pecking order and hierarchy is embedded in history going back more than a thousand years.
How that I ever thought I could ever make any sort of difference is only a testament to my own naivety. Growing up I idolized writers like Fredriche Nietzsche and Celia Green, even then I empathized with their intellectual positions and now I sit not half as bright as they are but with a full understanding of all their isolation. I did this to myself. Why I would have chosen this I cannot say but according to the reversible constraint its the only thing that makes sense, I was the piece I didn’t want.
In a way it makes sense that I am the bearer of the Slain Fates… three of the most despicably annoying individuals that humanity ever produced all sacrificed, ignored and forgotten. Its fitting and something that I can actually laugh at sometimes. Strangely enough I am somehow okay with all of this. I don’t care if the entire universe and the very fabric of time is set against me. I don’t care if my enitre life has become an insult; I am a good specimen; I am straight, honest and have a good set of survival skills. If the powers that be doesn’t want to acknowledge that then I never wanted them anyhow. In a world that celebrates ignorance and stupidity I should have expected this. Intellectualism for its own sake is a tar pit even for those who are well educated. I suppose what led me down this path was my abject failure in academics. I was misdiagnosed as having ADHD when in reality I probably have something closer to Asperger’s.
Some days I actually marvel at my own situation; I have survived and continue to survive a conspiracy against my person -they made a sitcom about my skin condition and I managed to stay out of the psyche-ward. The problem is after an experience like that you cannot possibly be normal. I used to be a really sensitive person but now my threshold for emotional pain and embarrassment actually scares me a little. The last thing I would want is to hurt anyone else but now sometimes I don’t notice when I am making others uncomfortable. People probably see me as too direct and even a bit confrontational. So I have been adopting ways to dial it back and be a bit more subtle. My experiences could have easily turned me into a monster but as ugly of a person as I might be I never gave up on myself or my brother. This alone lends me solace. I might not ever make a mark on history and even if no one ever reads any of this; I am my brothers keeper and therefor the victor.