December 4, 2012 § Leave a comment
Rules. Whose? Why not mine? The rules I can’t follow are rules I have to change, fit to me. It won’t work the other way round. Confidence makes the rules mine to make, mine to play. Fun. Whatever I get having fun is worth having. Only my rules know me. Why inexpertly interpret someone else’s handbook? For how much longer do I misapply someone else’s tricks? Haven’t I always eschewed tricks? Don’t fake it to make it; just make it! Tricks are fake, failed adaptations. As a diet is to eating. Know yourself and your needs, and you can trust your imagination to get them: Strategy for the honest.
March 30, 2012 § Leave a comment
My interpreter’s hat has a tendency to fall over an eye or two. Bias is nothing to be ashamed of or conquer. But I want this done by the end of the year, and I don’t have the patience for all the prideful rationale the delusions float on. I have plenty of room for the truth, but the truth doesn’t always have dibs on the space. My truths are shy and non-assertive, as naked as the emperor but fully aware of it. Maybe they don’t mind that much, but I do. They are not embarrassed but embarrassing. Objectivity is still hard to find, but it has never been more visible. The capture is the thing: I know when I’ve caught my prey, but I don’t know how. Consistency is not also ensnared. I catch truths I don’t understand and let them go for now. The rest is meager nourishment, but enough till the next meal. The rules imposed on me over Herself are not metaphorical. They’re real and sometimes hard to take. Accepting them is the only thing I ask of myself. I succeed, I fail. Neither praising nor lamenting either outcome is objectivity, where understanding begins.