Ted

Its really hard to look out of a window that's caked with filth.  Thats ok, that's pretty much how I see what's out there anyway.  I'm what you could call a true romantic, seeing through the bullshit that most people put out there to make them look better in polite society.  I'm a man in the modern world with the Great Depression mentality.  I smoke.  I drink.  I rarely hold my tongue when I feel like silence is a crime.  Iv'e always been that way.  I can't deconstruct my mind on a focused-enough level to figure me out.


I forced myself to figure all things in life in at least some fractal way.  Bending the threads of various subjects to make sense of them so that I could walk into any situation and not be made a fool.  I remember a time in my less formable years when I was at an event on the campus of Johns Hopkins University when a rather annoying gentlemen with sunken eyes hidden behind hazy glasses approached me and posed a question I didn't have the slightest clue on how to form an answer.  He peered up briefly from his scotch and asked me if I knew my own origin story, my own personal genesis.  I was left cold, my heels sinking into the souls of my boots.


Its been since that moment where I became something of a recluse.  Only leaving my apartment for the bare essentials.  I have been researching various methods of meditation and and pyco-reactive drugs to rebuild myself from scratch.  I was trying to ask that anonymous prick's question.  I'm in minute twenty-five of a DMT fit and I am no closer to the shit I'm looking for.