Compulsion and obsession

I had a little lecture on what constituted addiction, obsession, and compulsion recently. I'm not sure that I actually understood the finer differences between each, but I'm now convinced that I have tendencies towards compulsion, which although not obsessive yet, could easily become obsessive. I don't like this trend as it could lead to unwanted, and undesirable traits that further repels people and cause them to make hissing sounds of disdain as I pass by. One can't have that - it would be quite distracting to have your own personal orchestra of snakes hissing as you go through life.

So I'm going to take action. I shall compulsively, and obsessively root out every sign of obsessive compulsion activity that dares poke its little head up. A quick swipe with the scythe, and it'll be off with its head in the way of the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland. There, that should occupy me for a few weeks or so then we shall see whether things improve.

Otherwise, what do I make of the state of the world - my own world that is, for what do I care about the outside world. No really I mean it, what point is there thinking about the outside world which doesn't think about yours, and basically ignores you anyway. After all, what could be fairer to ignore that which ignores you.

At least, that's my theory for the day, and as the day is short, this theory will be short-lived too. The truth is, you can't ignore the world outside your windows. The truth is, it will intrude, and you'd better do your best with what it brings you. And let's call the world what it really is, which is reality. Why, oh why do I let myself be taken in again and again and again.

The damn fortune teller has so far been wrong in his predictions, and I'm very tired of false prophesy. We won't even start in on the extra complications that accompany everything I try to do. Clarity, like pulling a loose toenail off, is painful, but the pain is at least acute, sharp and short-lived. You pull the nail off, you suffer a few moments of acute pain, but then you can put on, and take off your socks easily. Not so when things are ambiguous, and ambiguity (or maybe its delusion) is what haunts me now and I need a good exorcism if that's the case. Maybe on Tuesday at 5pm, the ritual I've arranged will increase clarity for me. I can only hope so. Either way, there'll be complications, of that I'm sure.

I'm tired - not tired as in wanting to rest, or not being able to continue doing something, but tired as in 'tired of...'

I wrote this few paragraphs today because it's been on my to do list for a while - write a post - and so I can now cross this off my list and move onto the next item on the list which is "deal with finances", which I don't really want to do. So now that's done, I can end this little complain and whine with a cosmic wish list of things that I hope happen sometime in the future, but not too far in the future because, well because I don't have all that much time left to enjoy stuff.

I wish for: the orb to become a square or vice versa, an unencumbered Nexus 5, a soft-landing for future responsibilities, new goals and enthusiasms, clarity, understanding and charity (from me to, not for me from), good chocolate to enter my life again, the stamp of this week to clear, loud unthinking voices to dissipate.
And that's it - not much to ask for really is it? But the enormity of the asking doesn't really matter. It'll either happen or not, and the randomness of the selection is paralleled only by those coming from assorted review panels.

Randomness. The bane of my life. The inexplicable actions of others - the other bane of my life. The fraying of knots that make up the fabric of what is a carefully constructed reality that shields me from alternate realities - that really kinda pisses me off these days. At this point, I'm not so much angry as resigned and with luck this will never veer towards anger like that which I nurtured towards the feckwits from years past. Feckwits - so many of them to avoid, ignore and generally sidestep with disdain.

And one last thing - the stupid bitch-cow who questions my existence when it's been proven over and over and over again - I can only hope she's tipped over in her sleep and falls into a mud hole that is difficult to climb out of.

Oh my. I slipped out of my usual polite self there. Why, that felt quite good.