Ceremony
The shock of your life comes when you realize your evil and your stench, when you discover that you have in you hideous things and you never ever thought they even existed. All of a sudden there they are in all their putrid and revolting glory.
The greater shocker comes when you get misunderstood.
(Well, not exactly.)
Two things. One, you’re not misundertood. In fact, it was loud and clear. What you are is evil and people get the message. Two, it ain’t a greater shocker because you’re bound to expect that you will get misunderstood, or understood, anyway.
I am Jed’s frustration, ranting at 21. This is his insecurity and inability, manifesting itself via this 21st century device called ‘blog’. It has a funny name, blog.
This is jed, always accused of employing dirty tricks, unconventional warfare. Appeal to pity and the like. They say I am feigning weakness when in truth i have nearly bled to death. People react violently to the statements I make and at the same time they couldn’t care less. Ugh, I fucking hate the phrase ‘at the same time’.
I stop blaming. There is really, really no one else and nothing to blame but me. I am a tower of Babel of conceit and reservations. I am the Little Prince gone awry. A 360-degree view and all around me I see my despicable little green monster selves in mutiny, up against the overwhelmed semblance of my civil sanity. There is really, I repeat, absolutely no one else and nothing else to blame but me.
A heap of self-shame once again, I write. I rekindle the creative in me. Creative in finding and making ways to emphasize my plight. Ah, the inner Neitzschean in me who would have eaten Tyler Durden or Holden Caulfield whole. In my worst moments I am still a colossal power, a seminal tour-de-force.
There is time for weeping.
