“Do not fear to be eccentric in opinion, for every opinion now accepted was once eccentric.”
-Bertrand Russell
The idea is this, people starts talking when they think they know what they saying.
I think people don't know shit about anything.
They just pretend to, you know, just like the actors you see in the cinemas.
A script, some production designs and some pretty convincing emotions, you have a show.
The better they portray it, the better the show is, but, they were never original, they're just a copy of a copy of a copy somewhere, sometime.
They would just like other people to think that what they are doing is something new.
In fact, we are all just actors, portraying our role in this slowly decaying world.
I myself never felt original, well, at least before, when I thought my ideas were pure and unsullied.
Now, that they had been polluted by what I call "everyday peopleness" and "shared dispositions", I can no longer say that my thoughts are pure, maybe the emotion that I get from it is pure, but never the thoughts.
Let me tell you the story about it.
I can make magnificent stories, stories not about people but about certain energies, energies that me myself cannot understand most of the time. I project them using words, spontaneity was the language and it was never dull and stale.
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"There was an elephant on the face of a Phd.Professor, Acuna I think was his last name, He always wears a tie, always uptight and never straightforward about things, always using idioms to convey what he means, the elephant turned into a moon crater when a girl looked at me in the eye. It turned into a moon crater which crawled down to his neck and then punctured his lungs, which later on caused him his life. The crater was alive."
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They were always aesthetically imaginative and colorful, they were always bright and never simple, available anytime I need them, not that I needed them, they were just there, waiting to be told.
There was also a time when words were not the exact means to express these energies.
Then I knew about a struggle, I heard their voices, clamoring for something different, something original.
That was the time I found out that even I was never original, the energies that I once thought cannot be put into words are now in clear, simple words aligned with the motion of defiance and revolt, the words swayed and danced in the tone of rightful violence. This was a major epiphany, one that happens rarely, for some, never.
I took refuge with words and ideas, they were like friends who are connected so deeply and dearly that when the former leaves, the latter would be left dry and unsaid.
They seldom came after the epiphany, but when they do, they pour. I use to think of them as colorful balls from a pool ball, you know, the one that you use to play in amusement parks. They usually come in bright, blissful colors, yeah sometimes dark and brutal, but I don't really care about their descriptions, as long as they come. After all, these words are not from me, they are just words, copied, reprinted and then copied again, century after century, civilization after civilization, they are just products of the collective effort of human folly to satisfy their eternal urge to be understood.
I guess that's why people write books, to be understood, to convert their tiny little ideas into words which can penetrate, destroy or rebuild a soul.
Now that my idea of being original was annihilated, I can now write.
I now realize that the idea of being original was erroneous, that's why it disturbed me to the core.
Now, I can peacefully write about manufactured, mass-produced lies, now I can write about things that only exists in my head, now I can write about the characters within the confine of my profanity, now, I can write about the tower of babel and how it ruined humanity, I can now write about my ego and how it complicated a lot of things in my life.
