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Friday, 22 October 2010

losing my religion

From lessons at The Great Slime Pond, on playing truant,  #79:

I don't like forcing myself on or compelling others, in any manner and in every sense. Even where they might be obliging, out of compunction, a sense of duty to me; or just a sense of duty in the abstract. More so perhaps then, even, it generates loathing.

Being compelled to embrace perfunctoriness has got to rank as a suffocation in degree and discomfort more than, if not equal to, the humiliation or deprivation of an outright rejection, or even negation.

It's not my style, nor substance, to take, lift -- pilfer if you like -- and the petty theft diminishes me whilst reducing the volitional victim's shrugged-off equity, and dignity to boot.

I struggle violently to fend off the oppressive suspicion, the ignominy, that their ostensible giving, charity --  relenting more like --  leaves them irked and tired at the very least, and with the acquired need to compensate themselves with an undue and inordinate moral smugness, that which accompanies what can only be a begrudging sacrifice. Burnt offerings. Discarded left-overs.

Doggie-bag blues

Specious superiority, to be sure, accompanying minor altruism , but they're not going to question the false nature of, the false minor gods behind the collected authority of their ways.

They, the benefactors, have to decide what it is they want, and might willingly give.

But they don't(decide), because second guessing themselves is too hard, and consequently changing's a bridge too far..

And it might imply that they're no better nor less in their alleged altruism than the world they purport service to.

Never have been, never will be.

Ignorance is it's own seed and impulse, and when accompanied by a veneer of putative knowledge, becomes heady in its boldness to throw things asunder. Arrogance really

I've suffered, over the years, an immense need to explain myself to others, to make them feel better, because I've been made to feel that my inner state, and sometimes outer appearance, and demeanor affects them.. Perhaps because of my own past sins

It's rubbish really,and humiliating, when they're really not paying attention anyway, anyhow.

Some of those who would have abused, when I could be debased no more, have died.

I've had to negate a vindictive triumphalism, and pray on the removal of any sense of vindication on my part for I know, as much as id would have me believe otherwise, the universe is in me, but doesn't revolve around me.

I am not the center of my universe, nor do I expect you to (pretend to) treat me as such