The subconscious is where we mostly work from, but yet, none of us really know how to get to the subconscious, so what you do is bring your little credit cards of how you want me to view you and I bring you mine of how I want you to view me. That’s not necessarily who you really are, because we’ve decided what we want people to see of us, so we’re not really dealing with “How do I know who you are?
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If you don’t stand for something you will fall for anything.” — Malcolm X
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We are all pessimists, cynics, hypochondriacs and conspiracy theorists. In our fiction, the world must be broken. We must think of the worst. It’s what fuels the fire. Nobody wants to read a story about happy ponies sipping from the molasses pond and then they all dance and have all the hay they want and rainbows and bags of gold and leprechauns and *poop noise* — that’s just pap. Twee, waffling pap. Fiction demands that we go to the well and draw up the most stagnant water we can find, and so we look for the worst in the world around us. We get used to it. We accept it as the norm. We know the worst can happen. We know it because we write about it. Some dude will come up behind you on the park bench and saw your head off. Your plane? Gonna crash. That mole in your armpit? ARMPIT CANCER.
Rock That Body - The Black Eyed Peas
(Source: youtube.com, via devonsomething-deactivated20120)
