Dissociating Thoughts and Actions

I often wonder whether the depravity of a thinker's life - be he a Descartes or a Pierce, a Berkeley or Bacon - I wonder whether their depravity incriminates their thinking. As a sort of existentialist, I must confess that I'm convinced of the indissoluble unity between thought and action; but as an elitist (and a principled one, to be sure), I also think that that kind of reasoning is just an easy way to discredit an unappealing argument - in fact, such reasoning is only employed to discredit those people who make really good arguments.

Bobbedy Bob-Bob-Booger

The feeling of alienation is common, all-too-common, for us humans. I suppose we have to get used to it; I suppose we have to fight it, as well. With all our strength.

It's been a few days now since I was forced (or since I forced myself?) to forsake the only person I've ever really "loved" in my entire life. I don't mean "love," in the sense that I love my parents; and I don't mean "love" in the sense that I love my friends. I think you understand, now, what kind of "love" I mean.

This - and I'm forced, emotionally, to be prettily (prettily) extravagant here - this was a man who, when I first saw him for the first time in my life, made my head cave in. This was a man who, when I finally met him for the first time in my life, made my guts swim around in a very most fanciful way - a tickling, giddy way, and you know the feeling. This was a man who, when his loving-turned-heroic-turned-loving again (and pretty!) of a mother so suddenly disappeared, told me that we were going to perform a Talking Heads song at the oldest church in Springfield with electric guitar action. At the funeral. This was a man to whom I said "Yes. Fuck yes." Without reserve.

This was the man who taught me logic. This was the man who taught me technology. This was the man who, despite all my feelings for him, would freeze my emotions, and force me to Think - and then my heart, my heart of hearts, would melt all over the floor and I'd have to clean it up.

This, my friends and family, is the man who's forsaken me.

I said before that I'd forsaken him, I know. The truth of the matter is that I don't know what has happened. He has forsaken me, I'm sure, and I have forsaken him to some degree. But I don't know who has said what, and I don't know why it was said - and I certainly don't know what's happened between us that can't be forgiven. The only thing I do know - and this I know with all my Think and Feel - is that I want to forgive - but I can't, until I'm forgiven.

I've done something terribly wrong. Like I said, I don't know exactly what - but I'm quite assuredly sure it was something terribly wrong, because I feel like a vacuum sucked out of a vacuum sucked out of a syphilitic cock. I'm not even sure that I should be feeling this way, but I do. And he's the one that's made me.

Is "love" something to be adored? Is "friendship" something to be cherished, when the losing of it makes you feel so empty? so directionless? so lost? Is - and I think this is a question we should all ask ourselves from time to time - is anyone really worth that..?

I kind of think he is. And sweetly, at that.