It’s a really tough time when you realize that after twenty one years in this life, you don’t know what you are, or what you want from this oxygen abuse, we all like to call life. It is only harder when you figure out your father knows nothing about life either, yet he lived it beautifully. Well, here is the easy part of it all. Human ignorance is not age dependent. Aha, not to self, I am not stupid.
This point taken, I will try to molecularize life and take it to its basic sense, and I will know what life is all about. It seems very simple. Its not like you are bombarded with weird things like social values and religion by psycho-paths daily. I mean, how much of life, is defined, outside the walls of brainwash?
Believe me, I thought of that for a really long time. I mean, I know that I’m alive, I know I will die, but there is no proof yet that death is not simply social placebo. Think of it this way… you are born, with your death on your forehead, no? people look at you, smiling as you cry, knowing they might not see you die, but you will see them die and meet them in heaven one day. Don’t be sad, you will die too, everybody dies. What if no one really has to die, except that a law has been created some few centuries ago, to limit a seemingly increasing population.
Death is inevitable. The afterlife is the promised land. Go there. Do good.
This takes me to a whole new dimension, being good. I am glad I brought that up. Are you being good? Santa Clause asked you when you were nine. But you never heard his voice or saw him except in the form of your dad, wearing some red clothes. But you also remember how you slept way before your bedtime, and brushed your teeth, cleaned your room, and said goodnight politely to everyone in the neighbourhood. This was your mother’s version of being good, that goodness that would make santa love you, and give you a doggy treat for little children, or there is no such thing.
Anyways, it’s really nice you have been good all this time, who would have guesses what might have happened, you know?
Anyways, it is all about how you think, and why you think in a certain manner. Personally, I am trying to figure out why I was born and where I am going and why. Tell me I am crazy, but you are if you are not. I mean, why not? What better do we have to do? Nothing. It is as simple as that. Choices by elimination of the worst answers, the best way to go.
Many people seek happiness, but don’t know what happiness is in the first place. Happiness is not instantaneous adrenaline, or is it? I am not in a position to decide. Everyone decides according to personal statements and background. You will not argue with a refugee, that the homeland is bliss, even though you might know that’s his bliss no longer exists. He might know it too, but happiness is the blinding opium. Still, people enjoy being blind, enjoy being deaf, but never mute. There is this sense of incredible starvation for ignorance, that stretches beyond wanting to live a peaceful secluded life, but an ignorance that demands guidance in every which way. This ignorance is proportional to the gibberish syndrome, that refuses to coagulate despite its lack of material. Our world today is somehow built with nothing. I look around and try to appreciate the legacy that might be linked to us in a couple hundred years. We will be ruins of nothing; an era of civilization, only alive by faith, a faith that is bound by an ultimate fate of death, after a very interesting trajectory of consumption. Allow me to demonstrate your grandchildren’s legacy.
It is not a blank page, it is a deleted page. A page that has been decided upon, as a banal. The contemporary rules, and individualism is the way to go. I am totally okay with that, but not okay with my mother on the dinner table, roasted beside the potato. It is not okay to dispose of something, claiming that you have the answer to the problem. You are not the upcoming. The upcoming comes by itself. You can be a catalyst or a parasite. Now, you are a parasite. I breath the air of an old stone house as I walk to buy my salad. I smell it. I smell millions of seconds. I can almost smell the sweat of the family that built it, to live in it, to keep it, for the generations to come. I am not saying that keeping the old is the way to go, but it is not enough to try to cherish what you are supposed to cherish. No one asks you to stand a moment of silence for your grandfather. But I do. You should. It is not that now, you are an adult and are suddenly allowed to act upon your roots. A tree would die. Use the water properly.
Every revolution that should happen should be a revolution where the act happens by the self on the self. Any revolution that refuses to be bound by so, is an act of war. It is only when you can use logic to make someone believe in something by himself that a revolution has happened.
Now, revolutions need not be revolutions of mass destruction, and mental holocaust. Revolutions happen on the 1:1 scale. They are as clear as the light of day. As clear as dreams, and sitting down after a treat of fatigue. You are a revolution alone, because you are a person, living in the now. Now is the time to be, reflected from the past, and converging towards the unknown, commonly called the future.
How will I defend my country? My country is at war with itself more than everything. It is not at war with an enemy, because any enemy is nothing in front of the dimension of the self. It is not easy to acknowledge what I am, but I can only promise myself that I will not die, except if I feel I need to.