Stop.

Don't think. Just read. Don't think. Read.

That will be enough.

For now.

Why I've Created This Blog

Somehow telling...

that in creating a blog with the pretentious premise of calling it endgame/s, they had already been taken. I wondered, hmm, so there are people out there with perhaps a similar thought process as mine. ('Mine' operating under the self conscious, and not only pretentious reference to, but dangerous unfamiliarity to Sam Beckett [which shouldn't even merit a reference on my end]- a man I know I should like, if only of want to suffer the delusions of being an edgy intellectual. And 'mine' also operating under the guise of abatement of self loathing through expression [no matter how ridiulous, or over the top), yet fueling it by being so terribly self absorbed, that I've imagined an audience that won't/aren't aware of my blog's existence; lost in the depths of oblivion known as cyberspace; lost in the microcosm [or would that be macrocosm at this point.]) So I typed in both to explore the possibilities that the authorship of these myopic worlds of blogging, operating under the broad, yet specific idea of endgame/s, would be, well, me. And that, like most things, people had already better expressed what I had already been thinking all along.

The first was a bust, read: boring. Though it did have a promising description,

"This site was made so people like yourself can get information and links on certain things effecting you and the world around you."

Close. But not quite.
Aah. Nothing like alienation to bring people together. Almost there. But not quite what I had in mind.

The second. Well... it's very possibly my worst fears materialized in blog form. From what I can tell, a blog created 5-8 years ago by a disaffected, teenage boy from Canada (ha). Love how he's titled it

"dénouement"

don't quite know what that means, but it sure sounds melancholic (a word I noticed he liked to throw around quite a lot), and what the hell! cmon, it's French. Can't get more tragic, pretentious, and misunderstood as that. It helps his desription is as followed

"peace and love and unity and remembrance of things past and the bullshit they talk about in books"

Good job. Managed to slip in a Proust reference! While also being non chalant. It's so positively Holden Caufield.

It gets better. Because these are things I could have thought, I could have beeen. I was just another misunderstood, pretentious bastard is made so concrete. The truth hurts, and this made me ache. Because I COULD have turned out this way. (And maybe I secretly think this way........ ooh, no THAT hurts, it makes me cringe, I am literally shuddering. I really hope deep down this is not how I feel, that alienation/disaffection are really the coda of expression for superiority, [or is it the other way around?])

"okay, is it just me, or am i the fuckin' shit?

i don't mean to be cocky, but i swear to god that me and those on my wavelength are the only ones who really understand the world and can cope with all the shit it dishes out...."

This is just SO bad. Bad, in the way, that Ethan Hawke writes novels. Good intentions don't necessarily result in a product. Nono, this is too funny, and I feel guilty because all I can do is shake my head. It's a verifiable "Name That Literary Rereference!" O God!

"let the slings and arrows of some
(out?)rageous fortune cut you to the bone
see the blood run out of your body
and will it back
for it is yours
and yours to control
demons of bad karma may return
bite you in the ass
feel the teeth sink in
feel the pain
but quietly realize that the pain you truly feel
is just as much a metaphor as the demon"

It especially makes me cringe when he talks about different stages of "love", and it rears its ugly head through the "moving-on process"

"let's quit talking about it. i don't want to have to think about why i act the way i do, i don't want to have to keep thinking about us. i just want it to happen on its own or not happen at all. i don't want there to be an "it." just "us." stop liking me so much, i just want to have fun.
and i understand that you like me. i get it. comprende. knew that six or seven months ago. didn't forget. don't just say it in the middle of a conversation. it makes me feel awkward."

"i dunno fuck i'm so confused.
do you feel anything for me?
i dunno bill i dunno
i think i just want to be friends
shit why would you say that? i dont even like to swear
cause i just dont feel the spark
you know how it is
yeah i know .. bye
bye bill..."

"i hate to say it but you know
i'm better than you and you show
the sad truth everytime you think
that you're better than me
you try to be me
and nobody can be me
as well as i can
so you're doomed to failure
and all i can do is laugh
and move on
enjoy the dust and the climb
up some dark mountain
i'll enjoy watching it dawn on you
that where you really wanted to be
was right back where you started"

This is EXACLTY how I do not want to be. We all operate on some sort of fear, and this sense of familiarity in these situations... well, we'd all like to think we're not walking, talking cliches of people. We're unique, we're different.

And it occurred to me in the creation of this blog, in an attempt to be more expressive and no longer a mute as I've become accustomed to, and in the all naive premise of genuine-ness, I might, when it comes down to it, still be a fraud, like this person. So, this is my attempt, an exercise to eradicate at least most my pretenses.