The District Sleeps Alone Tonight

Tonight is interesting. It's been so long since I've written that I feel I should have some deep insightful opinions to share with you, but I don't. I have many deep-running emotions, but none of them lend readily to words. The Postal Service says it well, "I seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex". While I am not in any apartments, the sentiment holds true. I have a vision in my head, it is of me, my future, my destiny. However, to share it with anyone is madness, because none would understand. I am a paradox. I do not state this ironically in some emo self fulfilling dream of meaning that devolves into a love poem to the psyche. This sentence only makes sense if one has read the typical drivel of self-analyzing and situation-deploring that so often springs unwanted from tongues with no taste to fall unheard onto the concrete sidewalks where it fuels the fires of yet another narcissistic, indulgent 'artist' who cries against the 'machines cold heart'. There are some people out there who have true talent, these people are few and far between, and instead of loudly proclaiming their own ability they instead continue to write and sing and publish because it is what they love to do, not because it draws attention to them. If you're reading this you know who you are, tell Pandora I said hi (you're the latter, not the former).
My, I apparently did have opinions worth standing up on my soapbox of self-apparent superiority to express. I have some coherency beginning to form regarding emotions and other such things, however, I do not feel worthy of expressing them tonight. With that, I leave, feeling fulfilled that i have written, yet I did not make a point, nor did I convey emotion. Therefore i have failed both to express argument, or to create art. This is the fundamental difference between justifying one's existence, and living a meaningful life.


And now I have made a point.......thus, the paradox begins. /0

Pro Spem scribo, propter Spem pugno, cum Spem ibo