All that glitters is not gold

Damn, my writing sucks: spelling, grammar, and style-wise. I'm just lazy or too busy. Writing does come automatically for me--just not good writing. Does good writing come automatically for anyone? I read in my Ed psych textbook that John Updike spent 10 hours a day writing and re-writing. Gosh, I wish I had his motivation and not to mention, the time. But you know, Kristen, if you had 10 hours a day to write, you would not. You'd sit around, smoke cigs, watch movies, read your damn books or half-read them.

I suck as a reader, also. I generally remember everything I read pretty well, but I think I suck at real reading, real understanding. I don't understand shit about this universe/world/life. And I'm not sure if other people do, either, but they sure as Hades pretend like they do. They get Ph.Ds in bullshitting and pretending. Maybe, I'm just jealous, though. I wish I could pretend as well as others can. I wish I could "look good."

I like my own little world where not much matters, where my imagination can journey through space at the speed of light, where I do not feel alone, where no one's watching, where no one cares. I like being in this state of being where being is just being. I don't need to interpret my being, and I don't have to care about what my being looks like to others. Everyone cares about what others think to some extent, since, even though it's uncertain, we might all just be the same ontological substance yet expressed multifariously. Wait, does that make any sense?

I mean to say. Damnit! We're all one. However, we believe in a delusion we call the self that is distinct and separate from the other. So, why care what others think when I am the other, and the other is me? Fuck cognition; we can't get anywhere by thinking.