every joke is gallows humor in the face of the beautiful cacophony of existence
something something mortifying ordeal of being known something something
i was washing the dishes and had this weird thought about what being driven means. so often i have been driven by self hatred, motivated by fear that others wont love me if i dont do great things. and thats not true. my mere existence is enough. but then what drives me? i want to be great as an expression of my love for the world, not as a way to validate my own worthiness of it. artistry, mastary, nuance, they are an expression of something deeper and greater that prove how beautiful things can be. i want to do great things because i love the world that gives me the opportunity to do them, i love the people that help me do them, i love you. and now the next part, being known. i want to be a lighthouse keeper. solitude but at peace with the whim of the universe. never a master but always capable of find peace in the chaos of existence. the wind, the sea, they are companions. i am never lonely, thinking is a good thing. few know me, and those who do apreciate ...
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