Argumentation. You can't base your argument upon there being no answer.
It should be obvious, but it isn't, to most people.
If you believe something is correct, you argue in its favour.
If you believe you cannot argue that something is correct, that the answer is arbitrary.
Then how can you argue?
Applying this to stopping an addiction
What is the strongest reason every addict gives, to why they dose again? It makes me think clearer.
There is nothing clearer than logic.
If you know logic, then how can you make anything above absolutely perfect? Ridiculous!
Just as an aside, this was how I stopped letting myself indulge in stupid suicide fantasies:
If I am so unfortunate, that I would be happier dead
Then what makes me think any action I take, is not going to make my life worse?
Therefore, the only (logical) answer to depression is this:
WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? GOD?
CONCLUSION
So, here I am, arguing against my self, why the hell did I drink that nice russian vodka, if it was to be more reasonable, and have the right answer?
ah!
No, I drank the vodka because I was scared, and this stuff makes me less scared. Simple as that.
So why am I always scared?
Now we are getting somewhere.
Yep, although usually it takes much more effort to get to the "getting somewhere thing". :>
meh. i have no place i want to be, nor any particular thing I must do.
Oh, sure, I would love to try and build my scavenger coil, and my impulse coil.
But the smell of the fresh air, the burbling creeks, the crispy snow, the free food in the rural bus stop bins...
I hate all this world i am in now. the box, the sad people at the supermarket, cursing their 'duty' working for a pissy wage to pay for things they don't really want.
I want to go to russia now. I don't give a fuck if I sleep in a tunnel for 5 months of winter. I loved that, here in Sofia
It made me so sad yesterday seeing this:
oh, looks like I didn't even bother to photograph it.
They are taking down this ancient run down socialist era thing in the middle of the big central park in Sofia. I slept several nights inside the structure underneath it. Then some poor bastard just got out of jail, appeared and told he it was his sleeping place.
I didn't care. I had already found a hole under the park, that I could even lock up. I was building myself a flute, teachingmyself how to play, trying to beg money playing music with it.
If my life is for me, I'm gonna rearrange everything now, that I have had both experiences and now I have the money to cover those little things that make it not so bad (like good shoes, and knowing what food makes my body happy [ie, fish]).
Seriously. I have no idea what I am doing. I just want to walkabout.