Everyone Thinks They Are The Exception

We make up these little realities for ourselves all the time, don’t we? We make them up and then we proceed to drive ourselves demented trying to protect them, trying to say that they’re real, trying to make sure nothing happens to invalidate them. Obviously they’re totally invalid in the first place – they are invalid right from the word ‘go’. They have to be if we made them up, but that never seems to occur to us! This really is a sad reflection on the state of our being if you ask me – very sad reflection…

 

A sad reflection, a sad reflection, the sad reflection… The words go around and around in my head. Am I exception to the rule, I hear you ask? Am I the exception, am I the exception, am I the exception? The words in my head, the words in my head, the words in my head. In my head. Spinning around, spinning around, spinning around. I’m in a spin and I am the spin! I’m the spin doctor. I’m the spin doctor. I’m the doctor of the spin and am always trying to doctor it to make it better.

 

No, obviously I’m not an exception! There are no bloody exceptions, that’s the whole point. There are no exceptions. Everyone thinks that they’re the exception but there are no exceptions! It’s like when you get a dose of the old paranoia – you know that when other people come out with crazy-ass shit like the crazy-ass shit you are coming out with then this because they’re totally paranoid, but that doesn’t apply to you! Oh no – you’re not paranoid, you’re the exception. You are the exception to the rule. It happens to be true when you say it!

 

Crazy-ass shit, crazy-ass shit. Let me tell you about it! Boy do I ever know about that crazy-ass shit! I could talk about it all day, I could talk about that stuff until the cows come home and that’s a fact. I could tell you some crazy-ass shit that you’ve never heard before! I won’t, though. I don’t want people thinking that I’m a looper. No sir I don’t. Keep your little minds to yourself – don’t you be judging me. Or is it me judging me via my assumptions about you judging me? Is that what I’m at? It’s so hard to escape the prison of the self, isn’t it? It’s so very hard. There’s no such thing as time off for good behaviour, that’s for sure. No sir there isn’t. No such thing, no such thing…

 

I’m no exception, anyway – that’s the point I’m trying to make. What you think all of this stuff is that I’m coming out with? I’m making up realities in my own head and then I’m getting all caught up in them. I’m getting all tangled up. I’m hanging on tight to them, trying to make something of them. I’m trying to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. I’m trying to say that all these made-up realities actually mean something when they don’t. When they don’t at all.

 

 

 

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