to figure out what to say here.
I am burning up inside, but there is, as is always the case, no way to make it better in any way by posting here.
More and more, posting here is pointless.
This blog will die again soon, I think. It is an untenable thing and it’s just disappointing in its ability to act as an avenue for the salve of my consciousness. It’s even irritating.
The perfect life is a life of perfect self-control.
The one thing I can’t stand above all other things in the world, and the one thing I fight in myself more carefully than any other, is loss of self-control, or even worse, the intentional suspension of self-control.
I mistrust the carefree person completely so long they are carefree. After all, it is the very definition of the word. They are free of cares. They do not care. They will act according to their whims, not according to obligation, loyalty, consideration, empathy or any other predictable motivator. They are, in other words, completely unpredictable.
Predictability is the entire basis for the functioning of all of society and all relationships. It is definitional.
No, I do not like it when people are unpredictable. Self-control is everything to me. It is the one thing in the universe above all others that I respect. And the people in life that I respect share that one trait and no others: they are people with discipline; they are people with self-control. I am clearly a closet Buddhist.
And people who are always carefree?
Remove them from society. Send somewhere to be with the other carefree people and away from all important machinery, social and physical.