It's not a matter of doing misery and death well - it's truly comprehending the sometimes symbiotic relationship of agony and ecstasy: that we are all saints, all sinners, all tyrants in our own separate kingdoms - that we are all flawed, and yet hope our flaws can be forgiven. And I want it to be the case that everything is forgivable - if it is not, then what would be the point in going on if there were no hope of redemption? And what of continuity? I've never seen it. I don't want what the 17-year-old me wanted, or live in the same country or have the same friends - so am I still culpable for the things I did then? Is the possibility of escape illusory, or is reform a slippery slope in which it is assumed that intent dilutes or dissipates over time? But what intentions exist to be diluted? I don't know who I am or what I believe or what I want or why I want it most of the time. So how should I know why I do the things I do? I want to tell the truth right now, but can I when I'm not sure what is true? Perhaps truth is a shifting thing, or there is more than one truth at any given time. I'm not too certain that everything I know and believe doesn't just depend on the day - so maybe, for me, truth is inconsistency: saying whatever comes to mind and then contradicting myself later on. This could be the closest thing I have to authenticity.
