These essays are basically just organized flow of consciousness screeds. The difference between a raving homeless schizo and a visionary TED-talker is all a matter of perception. That is, the average person cannot really tell the difference between the two. They settle instead for clues like other people’s applause or a clean-pressed suit and just go along with it. But a homeless man’s screechings are just as indecipherable as a physics textbook to most people though. However, what I just said is not really a profound insight on my part. See, I’ve heard it said before somewhere, and therefore, seeing as I didn’t observe/say it first, it just can’t be all that profound.
Here’s something original I realized recently though: both the homeless raving man and the TED-talker spew their bullshit at people mostly because it makes them feel better. This is because, sharing, in one form or another, is a kind of therapy. And that’s what this series of screeds is for me then. It is a way to both organize my thoughts and engage in self-therapy by forcing sharing them with others.
If I’m being truly honest with myself, this is the actual reason that I write in general. I don’t think I’ll change the fundamental structure of reality or end the cycle of struggle, exploitation, and occasional transcendental self-sacrifice with what I jot down. No, I simply find the act itself cathartic - a form of therapy even. Nothing compares to the sigh of relief that I give off when I finally hit the publish button and a calm settles in my mind, if only for a brief while.