RANT.

My Subconscious Rant

So I woke up yesterday morning. Amongst scraping the remains of my mind off the rigid plank of sleep, I noticed my notebook covered in scrawl on my floor.

I’ve always kept notebooks by my bedside as a precaution for those insomniatic late-night creative fevers, but the words slapped on my bedroom floor were not my own. They were sloppy, and chaotic and- well- crazy. And I never write in red pen.

That’s when I realized I sleep-wrote it. Seriously. This happens. Yes, this happens. I’ve ALWAYS had crazy things happen in my sleep, or lack thereof, and have actually sleep-written several times.

 -Once, short story about where I was trapped in infinite darkness

-A poem about tacos 

-And several other things

You know, usual things on my subconscious. But this was a rant. Like a really weird rant. And considering that this is a collection of rants- I thought I’d share.  Keep in mind that a lot of this is hard to read; it’s seriously like the scrambled eggs of rants. I added some different punctuations to help the reader AND writer, but it’s mostly untouched.

“What a paradox humanity is. Able to do infinite good along with infinite potential for evil.

We bleed. We fall.

Yet through each fall something else rises from the ashes. To be more than human is to be human. To strive through an evolutionary breakthrough, to shatter the chains of this amourus [?] terrible life- fantastic yet painful.

This is a monologue my head can’t handle. Maybe [?] talking to myself is not a monologue, but a dialogue with the universe [?].

I feel like the “people” who will come after us another step a walk we pretend to take part in. Or rather, scratch that, we pretend we don’t take part it.

We have become something of a creature of pleasure. Don’t bullshit me and say this began with the invention of rock n roll or after WWII or when we industrialized. No. Despite new technologies and means of being so, we have been a creature of pleasure at the first thought- the first noticed heartbeat of a human- faint to us yet strong to themselves. But I digress into the enfolds of humans’ origins. That’s not always something to dwell on. Sometimes we focus more on the past and future (be in past mistakes of future pleasures and comforts) than we do on the present. Many will argue the present, and thinking in it, is what has “created” persay, this primitive easily pleased yet never satisfied sentient being.

 But the truth of the matter is that it wasn’t created. But I talked about that prior.

Ah [?]. My heartbreak in this life, not lost out of love, but out of hope, has shattered my existence. Thoroughly.”

Well. This is like a drunk text, but much longer.

Brief analysis of the contents:

I was obviously trying to be deep, but just couldn’t. I was like the preteen kid trying to be like an adult, but still not knowing how. I referenced transhumanism, which is interesting.

And I’m pretty sure “To be more than human is to be human” is a quote from something.

There are references to atheism, death, pantheism, the universe having consciousness, and the fault of humanity.

Conclusion:

My subconscious is really weird.