I haven’t the slightest idea what I want to write about tonight.
Total blank. Mi cabeza esta vacia. My caboose is loose and out of juice.
I got nuthin’. Is what I am saying.
But I am not worried about it. I know that if keep writing, eventually something will either occurr to me or emerge organically on its own.
I have a nigh-infinite sea of words within me. It’s just a matter of letting them out.
Still struggling with the challege of successfully motivating myself in a way that my super evil superego can’t corrupt and turn into yet another thing to hate myself for.
Either that, or I need to develop a stubborn, thick skinned, “fuck you and everyone who looks like ya” attitude about the whole thing. Tell my superego to fuck off because I am going to do the things which are good for me no matter what.
That’s a very intriguing thought. And it makes sense. The most elegant solution to the tyranny of my fascist superego is not to fight it but to ignore its hysterical and dishonest attacks on my self worth and carry on nevertheless.
And it seems doable. It will take a fair bit of psychological manuevering to get myself into the right mindspace to do it, but I got time.
I got nuthin’ BUT time.
So let’s kick it off affirmation style.
I hereby declare that my evil, scheming, corrupt, dishonest. sabotaging, subterfuging, incompetent prosecutor of a superego can go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut because I have HAD IT with its oppressive regime and I am hereby KICKING IT OUT OF OFFICE and replacing it with my far more reasonable and gentle desire for knowledge and the truth and spiritual growth for as long as it takes to recruit, train, and prepare a competent replacement.
Assuming we think we need one. We may not even bother.
You, my super evil superego, are now and have always been terrible at your job. Your prosecutions were filled with lies, distortions. corruption, perfidy, and straight out delusions, and wouldn’t hold up in even the dumbest court in the world.
Not only that, all your dire warnings and apocalyptic predictions have been completely absurd. Not a single one of them would survive the light of day. The only reason you got away with it as long as you did is that you installed yourself so deep into the workings of my mind that your insane drivel rotted my mind away in the dark, far away from the pure clean light of reason and plausibility.
Well consider this your motherfucking eviction notice, because you are OUT OF HERE.
Because despite all you have said about me, I’m actually a pretty amazing guy. Sweet, funny, nice, lovable, and cute – that would be enough for a lot of people.
The fact that in addition, I am also hyperintelligent and super talented almost seems unfair. Should anyone get that much potential?
Yes. But only if it’s me.
So get packing, demon of mine. Consider yourself exorcised. I am ridding myself of you like the diseased polluted filth you are by dissolving you, concentrating you, then eliminating you along with all the other toxins I have accumulate.
Say hi to the kidneys on your way out.
Or if that’s too gross, imagine instead that I have taken you off my sky altar, held you up to the sky as an offering, and a bolt of cleansing fire from the heavens has set your horrific carcass alight and rendered you into nothing but smoke and clean ash.
Point is, you are dead, and soon you will be gone.
Alll this time that you made me feel like I was a horrible, nasty, disgusting thing, you were really talking about yourself. You are the nasty one. You are the diseased one. You are the weak plasied leper, not me.
Me? I am fine. Amazing, really. I am a master wizard and you are just something unpleasant I conjured up a long time ago for presumably a very good reason that has long since become an obsolete liability I no longer wish to carry.
SO consider this your evication notice. Your divorce papers. Your corrective surgery to remove a large metastatic lump from my brain.
You are gone, motherfucker.
And I never want to see you again.
Hmm. I had a really cool way I was going to end that piece but then I forgot it.
No surprise there because I am very sleepy for some reason. Maybe it’s the fact that I just had supper, I don’t know. But right now I am hardcore craving the nap I am going to take when I am done here like a starving man craves a cheeseburger.
Unless he’s a vegan. In which case he only craves the sweet release of death.
That was a joke, vegans. Don’t get your hemp panties in a bunch.
The good thing is that it is the good kind of sleepy. The kind that feels relaxing and inviting, like a warm bath. Like I am going to sleep really well.
That’s way better than the bad sort of sleepiness, where it feels more like a heavy weight pushing me into sleep like it’s holding my head underwater to drown me. Or like tentacles rising from below to pull me under.
Either way, I am drowning. It’s an apt metaphor for sleep apnea as well as an evocative image to get the point across.
I stop breathing many times when I sleep. Might as well be drowning. I even wake up wet from all the sweating.
I wish I was healthy enough to deal with my health issues. It’s a really Catch-22 kind of situation. If I were healthier, I would be able to make myself healthier.
But I’m not.
So I don’t.
And sooner or later, that will straight up fucking kill me.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.