IN SOCIETY we pick the odd one out. This is the God particle. The last man standing will qualify as a fool or a gift. What matters is that there is in the end a result of various social forces leading to a few. The solitary is not really solitary but social. His solitude is the result of his daily interaction or non-interaction and conscious perception of the fact that he desires his solitude. He remains hungry to the fact that his hatred of company stems from the fact that he has psychological issues that aren't yet brought to the surface. Welcome solitaries of the world. One wonders what they do and why they are so. Talk to one, if they'd let you.
I have come up with ideas before, that sound better than what I write. There are tens and hundreds of insights that are pushed to the side when I write a new sentence. There is the only gratification and incentive that the idea will be appreciated as something of greatness and originality. But when does that occur? We need someone else to do that for you, and as you build in power you will see that the world of ideas functions remarkably on its own. The forms come to one in dreams and other lesser means, but at least they do.
It takes a good old rustic key to unhinge the locks that bind you in darkness.
Someone can easily reference this article.
I am fond of beauty. I have a thing with fame. I told my roommate that I'd join a reality contest. Something stopping me is what stops everyone, the risk of looking like a fool. I have seen this time and time again. I do not really enjoy watching this as some people, relatively everyone does, but I tend to be disgusted by the effect of having one person singled out. It's the same disgust I get when I see a stripper and those idiots collected there to watch this spectacle. If, for a moment, you think that being poetic means being a horny douchebag, then this is just another test you failed on your Grecian feats of, what, wonder.
So the last one is what we should be interested in more. The latest, the one who has remained after a succession of reappraisal. The prettiest one. The extremist. Look at the characteristics of the one who by an instant has made one interested, because for maximum interest to occur will be present one of you (perceiver) and then another (object) in what could be a face off.
I think that learning more about the universe is a good thing. I am going to watch some programs like awards nights soon, and I feel I need to be prepared. There will be some bling effect there. A generally cool young vibe will I bring in being such a spectator to such a prestigious event. Whether you like it or not, they will be remembered as winners. We are all taking part in the occasions of the world, even the recluse. Not everyone wants to, but they still are there, being they already exist, whatever that means.
I single out the person of so many years. "I'd join a reality contest." So on and so forth it went. In my memory, I'd cherish that insight of long ago, me pinning down elusive fame as though it was corporeal, as though it were easy. In passing a window you look at one person, despite the presence of others. I look at my life and wonder how many things have moved because I was in a room.