to engage in deception...to engage in it; sounds sorty of funny doesn't it. the act of deceiving. when is one involved in such an act? How much of the day is spent engaged in a sort of deception. If you look at each step you take in your day, and ask yourself along the way....am I engaged in deception? You probably are. When alone, when with the one you love, the selection of words, the way you move your feet when you're walking down the street...are we not always involved; engaged in deception? I have nothing further to say on that, or maybe I do, though I'd rather not call into question the integrity underlying our self-constructions, or the lack there-of. I try to abolish the lies that I read in my words when my voice is untrue to me, that thing I most easily recognize with the trait of invisibility. There is a will within, one who, for me, mostly just dry heaves at the fowl taste of life when i am living as something other than me, the will within, keeps me in bed for longer when I have no right to feel stronger, my will within, when I am colourless, uses the grey to from the clouds to paint my skin. The lack of integrity, as a lack of cohesiveness within our inward conceptions and rudimentary principles should be cause for concern...personal integrity as inward cohesiveness. No-one cares to know who they are, to bring structure or moral order to their inner workings. They merely care to show the entire world who they are at every chance they get...here I am, look at me, in this picture, at this angle.....it's like handing over a scrap book of scribbled notes to a publisher and saying, 'here's a well thought out novel. I have the utmost confidence in what lies in the confines of those bindings..though i really don't know what any of it is supposed to say..I know that it's damn cool...why?...because it's mine for god's sake...and I'm fucking great!...'Presuming we should we even be thoughtful enough, or sensitive enough in the first place to ever even consider what it is that we hold onto most dearly in our core; we would realize that even if we do think about a lot of things, the lack of necessary permanence to our self determined rules and principles should they even exist, renders us all essentially full of shit- but, the way I see it, it's better to know your full of shit, to try to make all of that fits within as true as possible, or at least know that you're not even trying, to be honest about it then to carry on as if you're entitled to everything out there in the world. Ethical egoism can kiss my ass. To self-create anew into each new moment is somewhat beautiful I suppose; like a piece of art, we walk onward and be as we wish to be whenever we wish to be anything... but for the most part, i find this form of self-deception and manipulation of public perception to be quite ugly and transparent. The expression on her face; the willingness to conform painted all over that guy's face. Listening to that guy's voice on the level of the semiotic, prior to words, the connotations that come with such a cocky volume, rythm and manner of pronouncing....To have integrity in this day and age is to be weak, to be a minority, to be left behind, to not be listened to in the crowded room...to not be heard in the debate. To have integrity is to have your heart ache as it palpatates with rage while listening to everyone talk so loud, their only concern is making sure that their voice be heard, regardless of their lack of consideration behind their cliche words. When every sentence in every story you ever tell, starts with "I did this..."...or "then I said that"...The finite temporary thoughts that paint the picture of how we wish to percieve ourselves at any given moment. The way we ultimately come to believe in our own self-deceptions...it is detrimental to us all, for most lies will be discovered, uncovered and all that has been built upon such a fallacious foundation will come crumbling down...the cool guy made clown upon having the dinner cloth yanked out, sending all the food and wine onto baby's borrowed clothes. I am scatterbrained. None of anything I will say today, or have said in the last few months of days will make any sense really. I am searching for something I used to have built into my system...I stuck my finger down my throat over and over and over again until I had puked all of everything about me i couldn't no longer bare to be had been heaved up. It's easier to be one of them.Today the leaves are pretty, and I care for nothing other than that which I say, I am selfless and un-selfish in a way I haven't not been in a long time. I am not even jealous or angry about the news that has just been delivered to me. I am simply me, empty and okay, looking around at all the pretty colours, annoyed by the stories i am forced to over hear at the bus stop, in this computer lab..I am happy today, because I am aware of the gift of this rarity- when everything that means nothing, means nothing to me.