The Failure of Reason, Part Deux

*Life gives a fucking beating

So why call an article “The Failure of Reason, Part Deux,” well, “Part Deux” refers to the fact I wrote more of this shit here and let me consult my field notes for some explanation behind the title. Here’s what I wrote about it on May 28, 2016 at approximately 11:15 a.m.:

I’m comfortable, for the most part, in my skin, but yet I continue to struggle with all sorts of addictions. I look at my situation with logic constantly probing my thoughts for their validity. My reasoning faculties serve me well when there are great tasks to accomplish, games to be won, or puzzles to be solved; however I find them poor equipment on the quest for happiness, love, and self acceptance.

How fucking insightful!

I won’t refer back to the cah-cah I wrote in the previous article but will plunge hopelessly in to this one. I’m going to choose a few good sections of this essay, which is seemingly about my moral decay, instead of subjecting you to reams of my drunken philosophical musings which stretch across the ages like a cosmic toilet paper roll. I’m running out of beer so hold me, virtually, I don’t want you touching me.

I’m a College Graduate (November 5, 2015- 1:58 a.m.): 

I’m a college graduate. I did excellent in my first two years and received my ecosystems management technician diploma, I’ve been unable to translate that success in to anything of any material value in the real world. “Why is that, Shawn?”

I made a certain set of choices, which I knew, in my semi-conscious mind, would cause nothing but danger for me and those crazy enough to stick around. I made the choices almost instinctively because my company on many fine nights goaded me on.

I admire these very few people because they know me, well enough to pass for whatever constitutes my moral standards. This code has often been based on emotion, not on reason or logic. When you’re connected with the ones that know you well, it’s almost like no time has passed although oceans of time and events may have past.

I knew going in to high school, from my experience in my father’s lab, that life was some sort of experimental adventure. I also realized at some point along the way most people start to break the rules or at least recreate them.

I’ve always stood next to legends, on my own play-list anyways. I’ve learned the hardest lessons in life are about humility, little trifles that stay in your mind. I was told the best way to be a good writer is to persuade you, but I don’t want your money, or anything else you could give me. I would sleep a lot easier at night if I lived up to the vision I had of myself at 18 [the beautiful lie that it was].

I had mistakes by that point in my life, most definitely, but the content of my heart was uncorrupted.

Have you ever gotten down on your knees and asked Allah to release you from suffering? No?  I haven’t either, but it’s alright if you have. You got to call it something and on that point I’ve bounced around a lot. I feel, although text isn’t really a great medium for feelings, but who says that? High school teachers. I feel that people know the right thing when they see it or they learn the hard way by not doing it and feeling the pain afterwards.

Surely if our scenes were portrayed on the big screen with such faces as Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt, and Scarlet Johansen, with a moving score some deep connections would be made and people would be moderately satiated for an evening.

The first thing is that: the movies are full of shit. Now, I’ve always loved movies, but I know that what I see in the movies isn’t real. There is a generation of children, sort of like myself I guess, who are learning how to be better barbarians. We are not teaching these children the wrong thing through words, no, they’re much too smart for that. We’re subconsciously implanting our incorrect assumptions about the world on their virgin and sponge-like brains.

When we’re real green and young we cannot always trust our feelings, although they seem like pretty convincing leads at the time, especially if we shoot from the gut. The saddest part is some of the righteousness gets lost and time fades the rose so fair. The flip side of it is there’s a lot of really intelligent people, rather they be extroverts or introverts, or ambiverts, they’ve got pretty solid plans and I must commend them for the hard work they put in to all that, maybe I’ll leave a note on their tombstones. My dear friend Kalvin told me “attention spans are short, so lets not write a fucking book here,” so keep your dials tuned and I’ll shoot a message to your frequency next week in Part Three.







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