I think I like failure so much, because I’m so bad at it sometimes. It’s a real nightmare for my dissonant states.

I think failure is the bees knees. Like, honestly, if you’ve never failed, you haven’t lived…obviously, life is rarely anything but failure in some capacity. Maybe I should rephrase.

You haven’t lived until you enjoy failing, in the healthy way.

Because, believe it or not, there is a healthy way to fail: i’m looking at you people with what comes off as fragile egos, but are probably just struggling super hard to exist and come off as confrontational, but are really not that bad.

That could have used some hyphenation; also too many one sentence periods. Not the bloody kind, fortunately.

Woof. Fuck.

Anyway, failure can be awesome, and it’s like, totes magotes the secret to be rull successful – misspelling mine – like for true. Someone can only truly be said to have succeeded, if they have first learned failure.

Because think about it. What happens when you fail? First, you get embarrassed because you done goofed worse than 4chan against Jessi Slaughter’s father….that’s still one of the worst things I’ve ever watched, and I seen some shit. But, back to the point: when you fail you get embarrassed, you get red in the face, you feel it all over, you tingle; if you’re an unluckily socially awkward penguin (like myself), you get to re-live it with astounding clarity for future cringing.

And then what happens? Well, if you do it right, you gain something. If you failed well, you now know how to not-do something. And people knowing not to do something are always more useful than assholes who only focus on knowing how to do shit.

There is an incredible, unspeakable power in restraint. I mean, I lack it, but you know, it’s valuable. It’s one of my chief obsessions: the non, the un, the in-between, mundanity, boredom, the other, the void. I obsess over it, perhaps more than is healthy, because NO ONE ELSE SEEMS CAPABLE OF RECOGNIZING ITS IMPORTANCE.

Failure is a gift, because once you see how the not-doing of something goes, you also know the doing of something as well. Two for one, this week at Eric’s dumpster fire of a stream of consciousness monologue: get your failure, and the key to success in the same moment.

Because really, how many times have you truly failed, and not gained anything from it. I fail daily…probably minute to minute if I’m straight. I’m regularly judgmental, and don’t practice compassion of self, as much as I should. I see people doing shit that I don’t agree with and that makes me angry. And that’s a huge failure for me.

Why? Because after all is said and done, it goes against my primary thought of existence: there is no such thing as “right”. And before the 2, maybe the third, if I’m lucky, reader goes “there are too right answers, and here’s a dissertation as to why” I’m going to ask you to cool your shit for two seconds, and let me explain.

Life is terrifyingly relative. First, we’re all aware that consciousness is almost depressingly skewed in our favor…most of us are aware…some of us? Ok, so self-awareness isn’t a strong suit, and the brain is categorically designed to perceive itself as some kind of awesome. But often, because Culture is a bag of swinging dicks, we have to judge our self based on collectively agreed on metrics that don’t jive with that self-image, so we get super pissy and start believing that others are wrong; but we also secretly believe it, and develop some nasty mental garbage in the process.

And then other people as just as incapable of perceiving you the way you want. All they see are your actions, not your motivations. People cannot remove the carapace of your body and see the swirling miasma of decision making and the chaotic collage of your brain moving in fifteen different directions at once in an array of preconcious postconscious nonconscious sensory desensory abstract concrete and whatever the fuck else you got rattlin up in that brain o’ yours.

You are, of course, not some weirdo writing on the internet about it.

No one sees the motivation, so all they see is this incomplete surface picturu. Sure, if you’re lucky you become friends, or more, and then they know you better, but they still don’t see your insides.

So you have this version of you that you perceive wrongly, then others also perceive you incompletely.

And then it gets even more complicated because we all believe that — miraculously — despite our perceptual incapacity to understand each other fully, that we are able to correctly assess the world around us, which is also totally fucking suspect because hey, guess what, your brain also alters and reacts to the reality presented to it. You may perceive it fundamentally differently, and miss out on something vital.

And yet, people are convinced that the world…exists categorically, or something. I’m not saying it doesn’t, keep in mind, I’m just saying that the right answer is a relative concept, you know, like time.

And because I love taoism (Hinduism is still my main squeeze though….luh you Hinduism), it’s worth pointing out that Lao-Tzu — who may not have even been a dude at all — knows this and mentions in the 2nd poem of the Tao Te Ching: “When people know good, this is bad, because then they recognize bad; when people know beauty, this is ugly, because they recognize ugly”.

What mister master is trying to say, is that when you create a right answer based on your fucked up limited perception of existence, you create difference; you create a qualification. And I mean, you could say that the shifting mirror house of human perception has some moments we can all agree on, but in the end, it’s nearly impossible to really know…because duh.

So failure’s good, because it makes me wrong