That yes I am unstable <too damaged to function as others do, and this compounds, taking not only further toll on myself but also inadvertently on the others.> [Work. My experience under command, serving on the line at Chameleon.]
Some would argue that it’s not my fault, that I’m a product of circumstances that were beyond my control. But if I were to delve unto a hypothetical metaphysical level I could postulate the theory that I did indeed choose the course that would lead me into those scenarios; that I composed the story of this frame of instance, before my genesis in it. Knew damn well what I was getting into.
Far too easily distracted for my own good.
Layers to me (past / present lives), layers to the things I’m saying – messages on planes – to the layers of others (past / present lives).
There is a notion that the divide is closing; that the expanse of time I loop back over to reference against the present, is gradually drawing close, and might eventually seal entirely. (Where would that leave me / what would it signify? Indeed, is it even possible, or has it in fact already happened many times over? [Eras / Chapters / Phases within Frames of Instance, within the Arc.])
Contentment, happiness & fulfilment through the self, in order to surmount the mistakes of the past and prevent them not only from a.) inhibiting attraction of my most crux desire, but b.) from unravelling that desire once it has been made manifest.
Desire is the requisition of that by which we need to be challenged, to forge us into what we aught to become.
There’re a lot of people coming out of nowhere tonight.
A vast majority of people really do seem to be inherently stupid, with a completely appalling lack of situational awareness, a distinct lack of focus; not to mention any real conviction. Sickening.
I might be a hypocritical bastard but at least I’m prepared to admit it, and strive relentlessly to battle through it; to crusade ascendancy, in the name of or at least hope for, a greater good.
Is it me there’s something wrong with; or them? Or is it relative, irrelevant maybe?
Perhaps nothing really matters after all.
How boring would that be though?
This is what the many of these works look like, or at least how they come to me, before I edit them; forge them into the pieces you see collected here. Tonight’s different though, tonight I’ve decided to leave the raw data unprocessed. This is well enough alone. That’s probably debatable.