Duxwing
I've Overcome Existential Despair
- Local time
- Today 11:30 AM
- Joined
- Sep 9, 2012
- Messages
- 3,783
Despite feeling like a lonely swordsman striking out against the Void each time that I wake up, I can still conjure up an image that never fails to warm my heart-- even if only slightly. It's that of a girl I like resting her head on my shoulder, cheek cuddled against my arm. When I think of it, I feel warmth and a gentle, prickly fuzziness in my belly. If no-one is around, I might say "Awww, how sweet" to myself.
Then, upon serious consideration of such activity:
My Conscience: Is this how you get your sick kicks?
Me: Aw, come on, you know it would be sweet and warm.
My Conscience: Let me put it to you this way, does the thought of a random member of Homo Sapiens rubbing their face onto your limb sound pleasurable to you?
Me: *gag* *shudder* No!
My Conscience: Then stay away from her, you freaky creep. Who knows what you'll end up doing.
Me: *sigh* It would have been fun, but you're right, it's unjustifiable.
As you can see, having my affection brutally crushed time after time--by my own conscience, no less-- is unpleasant. Indeed, somewhere out there, I'm sure that Freud is rolling over in his grave grumbling "Catharsis! Relief! Release!" but I can provide none of these. I am a terrified thinking teddy bear, and I could use some help in resolving this issue.
Is there a way that I can both love and not be Absurd?
-Duxwing
Then, upon serious consideration of such activity:
My Conscience: Is this how you get your sick kicks?
Me: Aw, come on, you know it would be sweet and warm.
My Conscience: Let me put it to you this way, does the thought of a random member of Homo Sapiens rubbing their face onto your limb sound pleasurable to you?
Me: *gag* *shudder* No!
My Conscience: Then stay away from her, you freaky creep. Who knows what you'll end up doing.
Me: *sigh* It would have been fun, but you're right, it's unjustifiable.
As you can see, having my affection brutally crushed time after time--by my own conscience, no less-- is unpleasant. Indeed, somewhere out there, I'm sure that Freud is rolling over in his grave grumbling "Catharsis! Relief! Release!" but I can provide none of these. I am a terrified thinking teddy bear, and I could use some help in resolving this issue.
Is there a way that I can both love and not be Absurd?
-Duxwing