We hold these truths to be self-evident.

Life has such a vast spectrum of emotions, why is it that I can only feel one of them. I feel as though I own the direct TV premium package and all I watch is PBS. My numbness appears to be magnetic, I can move away only for a brief instant before I am forced back by the polar pull. How do I demagnetize this emotion? I'm like a blank tape with one track; only I can't press record because it's solely on the remote, which has been misplaced probably between the mattresses or something.

I keep saying the same thing over and over again. But I feel as though I haven't said it the right way yet. Each attempt becomes merely an experiment. Several rough drafts until the precisely right passage finds me. So far it isn't enough, the words have not been found. Will there ever been words that fit? For all the words in this world in all the languages somehow they never seem right or adequate for explaining human emotion. I can't say something I feel but I can always feel something that is said. Emotions emote the most power in the universe forcing to be obeyed. Somehow emotions supersede any form of communications so much so that sometimes they can't even register within ourselves.

Life exists on this unexplainable plane in which nothing can ever fully be comprehended. The anecdote for life seems to be life itself. Life is doomed to contain endless possibilities along with a vast span of nothingness. That which creates also destroys. Life is a pharmacon, the poison and the cure. Within all of us reside self-preservation, self-destruction, and self-help. The questions and the answers are contained in the same space. We have the power to manipulate both extremes with the simple use of the human mind.

I'm a perfectionist who will not rest until my depression has been perfected. It must come across as undeniable, unmistakable, and unequalable. It can't feel half-assed; it must be maximum velocity. The impact inescapable as if it were prophetic. I will conquer this emotion and slow devolution. The strength grows gradually each passing day. Time loses but courage gains. I'll be stronger for the experience if nothing else. I have to tear things down if I want to rebuild. My renovation might be taking a little while, but Rome wasn't built in a day.

I've been trying for so long with such vivaciousness to prove everyone wrong when maybe in the end they have been right. I will do anything to avoid facing the truth. Although, I think truth exists as a derivative. There are no universal truths, despite what Kant might say; there are only instantaneous truths. The concept we have as truth is forever mutating but that is the definition of growth. Our views change, our beliefs evolve, and our universal truths shift. The truth eventually becomes a lie yet we cling to such truths with this false notion that it remains true. Really it is only the lies that remain consistent and unchanged. Truth forever moves whiles lies stay immobile. Like the saying goes: "The truth is hard to kill, but a lie well told is immortal."

I suppose this is why I hold on to the lie because I can't keep up with the truth. If I hold on to the lie than I can remain stagnate. There is a certain amount of comfort in my own deception. Falsehoods change when I want them to, the truth changes regardless of me. Face the truth, I now understand what that means, I'm just not sure if it's true; I only know that it's not a lie.