there is only you and what you make the truth

i think if i ever make a muvee, it will revolve entirely around a seemingly meaningless incident or innocuous gesture. for instance, the main character is walking down the street (why?) and notices an attractive woman staring at him. she then hands him a twenty dollar bill. or, perhaps, even more mundane. a man is standing in an elevator and thinks twice, visibly hesitates before selecting the floor he wants to get off at. the whole movie would revolve around these characters decisions and explore every facet of how they arrived, why they arrived, etc. at these decisions. it would explore every motivation, factor, etc. concievable and offer no definitive explanations for anything. it would be a mess of random information--sensory and otherwise--just like life. which, actually (this is something i wanted to address), kind of fascinates me: i mean, it's incredible how adept humans are at selectively engaging in their environment. in conversation, for instance, we know the tone and the overall vibe created by this interaction simply because we know what to look for and what to discard as irrelevant. there is so much going on--literally, a myriad of unrecognized phenomena--simultaneously which we actively choose to ignore. yet, people know exactly where they are and exactly what kind of experience they're having at any given moment. or, they like to think so.

sometimes, i think we slip up.
i know i do.

anyway, back to the movie idea. i think tonight would be a good basis for this film. i could literally spend the rest of my days trying to analyze and rationalize the garbage that went on in my head tonight and i wouldn't feel like it was a life wasted. not in the least. i could probably write pages upon pages here, but i won't. because i'm lazy.

really, though, this is what i wanted to write about. i feel like i should get as much of it down as possible before i'm no longer able to communicate it sufficiently to a psychiatrist.


as soon as i arrived at work, i headed for the bus and noticed a rush of blank dullness. a frenzy of gray and a general terror as i realized words and images, experiences, were no longer tangible. i shuddered at the thought of not being able to speak. to be stuck inside my head for the rest of my life--confined to writing my thoughts down, no matter how inefficiently.

it's been a fear of mine for as long as i can remember. a sort of intellectual palsy. not being able to express myself. a vegetable and at the complete mercy of god-only-knows.

in theory, it doesn't sound so bad. but the reality of it is devastating. it only comes in spurts but it's been happening quite a bit lately. i have to shut my eyes, really tight, and concentrate on everything going on around me. sometimes, words lose their bite. and i feel completely drained.

for someone as obsessed with self-expression, via writing or various other forms of art, this is a total nightmare. i can't imagine (or maybe i can and that's what makes it so horrifying) losing my ability to effectively communicate my ideas. most people i know would probably much rather lose their minds than their genitals. in fact, i know a guy who would rather kill his own brother, to whom he is closer than anyone in this whole, wide world, than lose his dick. the thought, alone, is enough to make him shiver. for me, however, it's the other way around. i'd rather create (or have the ability to create) than procreate. the idea of being shut-up completely is enough to make me visibly squirm. it keeps me awake at night, if you want to know the truth. so, when i get little tastes of this, like tonight, i absolutely lose it. i go crazy. it's something akin to a severe panic-attack. i shutdown and sort of retreat into my head which, by then, is a completely unwelcoming entity all to itself. i start sweating. and i can't function. or i think i can't function.

i can't even trust my own thoughts. i think i'm crazy. but it could just be that i think i'm going crazy. so...

basically, it's the worst.

my only option is to try to remain calm, not say anything, and wait for it to pass. though, i have about three definite voices, clearer than the others, telling me conflicting things. this is forever, say. or, it's only temporary. things naturally come and go. or, it's the law of entropy, my friend. all things are destined for disorder. and your sanity is no different.

then again, i don't believe in sanity. so, by my own standards, i'm already a mess.

i don't know if i should embrace it, attempt to tame the wave, or seek psychiatric help as soon as possible--before it gets worse. i'm a big advocate of "going with the flow." and i believe any sort of revolt against the natural order of things, anytime you fail to keep it real, the consequences impact you with just as much force. if not more. but, at the same time, maybe i can learn to adapt. i mean, medicine may be unnatural (whatever) and maybe i'd be better off without consel trying to figure out a combative strategy on my own, but, at this point, i'm not optimistic.

i think i might actually be schizophrenic.

i spout off gibberish sometimes and it doesn't necessarily make sense or possess content but it sounds right in my head. also, like i said before, i go absolutely bat-shit mad whenever i feel like words no longer register as tangible.

my dad would be so disappointed....