Since I didn’t write anything new today, and this daily goal merely entails I post the necessary amount of words per day, I had to go back into some of my old writing in order to make sure I didn’t miss my goal. It feel strange posting something from the past, but I think at least it’s interesting, obviously knowing my present self, to get a sense of where my own headspace was at a few years ago as compared to now. It’s only part of a longer text all contained in a Word Document on my hard drive. I left it as is, and didn’t change a word.
I spent years living a life centered around pleasure, a desperate situation which filled me with crazy adrenaline, every moment centered around the next rush. I chased highs and thrills, I accepted every invitation to party while I ignored important responsibilities; I was down for every shot, every joint, and almost every drug offered to me during my wild younger times. At the time it seemed that I was simply behaving in a way that was natural enough for me. I have always felt alienated in some strange way from the rest of society, and I have always felt like a rebel to the world, often disagreeing with the way things are “supposed to be done.” I didn’t do too good in school, being voluntarily absent much of the time, and simply suspended the rest of the time. At first, I misplaced the strong energy inside me. Heavily influenced by the glamorous portrayals of a criminal lifestyle as depicted in popular rap songs, I believed I needed to behave in a certain way, to conduct my life by a specific and rigid code, if I was to become an authentic rapper. I combined my love for music, something pure which is driven by my passion for pondering and expressing deep and meaningful ideas, with my twisted belief in rebellion by means of negativity and confrontation to society as a whole, merging both elements together to create a passionate rage which I let out in my rhymes. I immersed myself in an identity: ‘rapper.’
I didn’t want to learn in school, I ignored wise advice from my parents on countless occasions, causing loads of stress for them as I would often disappear for the night and shut my phone off since I was too high to come home, (sometimes on multiple drugs at once) and was in no state to speak to my parents at all. I felt that I was taking matters into my own hands – that I was living life on my terms, escaping the sick system which runs the world, the materialism and corruption behind all the politics and the bullshit. Alone I sat many times, contemplating, thinking about the meaning of life. At some point during my early teenage years, I convinced myself that life was all about chasing pleasure. I remember a specific thought, one night after an amazing time at a rave, a curious thought which I regarded as brilliant at the time. However, it may be that the thought arose, it is clear now that something big was clouding my judgement at that time. I thought I had found the key to happiness. I remember wondering how anyone could feel depressed, sad or suicidal. If ever, whenever a problem arose, one needed no more than a joint of some good chronic to fix the situation and make one move on. If that didn’t do the trick, then an ecstasy pill would suffice. Pill after joint after pill after joint. Such was my vision of life.
rebel eye 