Perhaps Jake was right all along and this was a bad idea. The chemical compounds I’ve been pouring into my bloodstream week by day by hour just don’t leave when the effects wear off—they stay inside me like a heavy weight and push down on my brain. The pressure makes the thoughts glow white-hot but such pain comes with the thinking…I’d start on painkillers if I didn’t know that the agony isn’t real, at least to everyone else. There’s a difference in pains; the ones that are bared for everyone to see and the ones that are hidden deep inside you, lacerations left in the folds of your soul that fester and burn no matter what you do to ease them. Each slice is a byproduct of another realization, another epiphany that’s sent out through you to the world from somewhere else, a diamond that scrapes and scrapes at you. I wonder how the copper wire copes with the power from the generator…does it become egotistical? Maybe not, or else it would have been fired by now.
I must remember that this blog was not to be about me, but the thoughts that I find. It's getting harder and harder to tell what I think from what I am...fuck you Socrates. These diamonds are fine, but the coal that they come from is me--little pieces of me that are squashed and recrystallised into something not-me, something better. It's worth it, that's all, it's worth gving up oneself for the greater good, right? Of course it is. People will learn something from this account, be it good or bad.
But surely no one will read this torrent of opinion? No matter. I can’t let it fade away: I must not let the embers die, because the flame will never again be rekindled. All I can do is keep conducting, be copper and remain humble so that the force that sent these burning thoughts to me doesn't decide to fix its firey gaze on me. If that ever happens, the bottom will drop out of the world and I'll vanish from view, that I know. I must keep writing.