Did I show you my biceps?!

I think watching a whole season of Six Feet Under on DVD in three days is not exactly healthy, and I’m not only talking about all the dead people; every character on that show is so dramatically fucked up that even real life feels like a walk in the park in comparison to life in the Fishers’ dimension. I’m not exactly an acting expert or critic, but if someone can get me to dislike them so much in a TV show they must be damn good! I really like this ugly morbid show! And it makes me think…
There are a few questions I have never been able to fully answer since I always find myself in constant disagreement with the common and seemingly obvious views in the matter.
What does it mean to be strong? What is strength? And does the term strong apply when strength is almost always manifested circumstantially?
I am someone who is able to express his feelings openly and freely to a point that may occasionally seem rather impulsive, am I strong because I don’t fear judgment or weak because I can’t suppress what may be inappropriate to express or what may stop me from getting what I want because I act too soon? Even if through experience I know that that would happen.
When and where does self indulgence move from being an empowerment to make bold decisions that feel right to folly that could reach the point of attempted self destruction? Are we given enough space and time for maneuvering between the two? Or is all of it just fear of conformity and being…you know…average…
Is fear of dying a legitimate fear? There are two kinds of people generally, those who fear dying and those who are in denial of it, the latter seem to be the majority and the former are well, also most people! Would anyone be so nice as to underscore the area in the middle of both extremes where one can profoundly enjoy life despite mortality? Are we given enough time and space to realize this area?
Sometimes the cruelty and cynicism inflicted onto a human being’s everyday life seem over whelming, anyone who can deny that they are fucked up in one way or another is probably even more fucked up than usual. Yet if answers to these questions were handed out freely at your neighborhood convenient store would you be able to capitalize on them without creating even more paradoxes and carnally anal complications? Are we truly equipped with the sensitivity that would enable us uproot and absorb the essence of mercy? Are we capable of even beginning to comprehend the concept of justice if it wasn’t relative?
Six feet Under could very well be the reason why I was feeling rather down today, or maybe it’s anxiety over my upcoming show and the usual financial and organizational problems that surround it, maybe it’s the ex girlfriend who’s getting married next Thursday to a guy she doesn’t know and allowing herself into a life she’ll probably hate, or maybe it’s my new friend who doesn’t seem to know her ass from a hole in the wall, or maybe it’s because I’ve been playing pool like Stevie Wonder in the past few days. Whatever the reason, a can always say that if I manage to survive through the night, tomorrow is a new day! And even though I still won’t have answers to these questions tomorrow, by some act of mercy, which I won't understand, it probably won’t really matter anymore!