The search for an ideal balance – or does it even exist?

I was just having a conversation with someone about the various complexities surrounding human behavior in the context of relationships (personal, social and/or formal). What preplexes me the most is when I observe people suddenly altered from their actual personalities into some imaginably pretentious individuals to please others. If the basis of social bonding is dependent on self-abnegation, then I would rather forego the experience. If you are willing to lose yourself to attain something on a material level, what  worth would that achievement surmount to without the core (the actual ‘you’) that should be encompassing it’s existence? I told this person that once I had realized I posessed everything (non-material) within reach I did not feel the need to go out of my way to acquire it. You need three things to make it through life;  (a) Love (b) Faith, and (c) Ambition (purpose/desire to engage in a meaningful activity) and once these atributes are self-inherent in your word and deed, you can be counted as a valuable member of the society.

In order to elaborate on the above, I would like to shed some light on the necessity of creating a circle of trust. A circle of trust that will diametrically surround your being and protect your energy from external/unwanted dispersion. This circle is meant for you, and it will protect your inner-resources from depletion and cause further growth in strength. Most of the external attacks be they from people, close relatives, friends (who go bad) or simply anyone who cannot bear to see you grow  and develop transpire when your weak points are located, doors unintentionally left ajar, or windows you forgot existed have been stealthily infiltrated. A good analogy would be a virus infecting the computer because it was vulnerable and unprotected. To reiterate my point, a circle of trust requires your presence in the center, from which point you channel and control your protective gear. This circle will act like a halo and surround you day in and day out, in your personal and professional sphere by allowing you room to be yourself, and yet posess the facility of learning and evolving. Hence, if you have a circle of trust surrounding your presence, you will never find the need to alter your behavior or personality to accomodate anyone, but rather allow YOU to become an agent of postive influence.

Le Grand Mauvais Soi

It is a beautiful day but I am sitting and working in my room when I could be outside enjoying the sun! The older I get the more impatient I grow. School is boring, yes, I am wondering what made me go back to it? Our society of course! It has a beautiful habit of rejecting the rejects who don’t conform. So getting back in school was a way to not conform in a scholastic garb. However my scholastic garb seems to be loosening its hold and slipping off of my shoulders, I must need a new one?! I am not sure. I know I function best when I am able to help people, but this has taken a negative turn and I find it impossible to engage in tasks that are meant solely for myself. I hate how people always babble, ‘Me’ ‘I’ “Moi’? These words and the likes of them I’d press delete on my life’s keyboard if I could, however c’est impossible no matter how generous one’s spirit. Yes, not the soul. Soul is something else. Your spirit can be infectious and fill up a room with subtle laughter and fun, but Soul is the heaviness you drag in that shell of a body (it is like a casket actually) quite heavy but you have to drag its weight through out your mortality.

Overcoming the self. The self that is always overcoming itself. And itself is that menace which haunts our sleep, and lately my dreams, resulting in nightmares. I am not sure why I have been experiencing weird disconnected dreams; early childhood, grade school friends, and such. Amassing knowledge can be quite threatening to your already built system of thought and belief. The more information and knowledge one acquires the greater the inner-rearranging required! Oh, the forever disheveled house, always invaded and taken apart. I would not even associate sand castles to this process of dismantling. So my intent of writing this random (I have taken a fancy to this word lately) post is to get something triggered in my subconscious that I may take a plunge in my homework with a better perspective. We have a had a lot of wise men in our world, most are dead, the ones alive are hiding (as usual) I mean who can deal with being wise and social? They just don’t mix (e.g. water and oil). Well anyway, lately my theme has been a personal reorganization of my identity, I am trying to come to terms with who I am, how I can project that self, (or as one of my professors had put, “putting your best self out there”). It’s not easy because somehow what seems to be isn’t and what never seemed to be, is. Which reaffirms my belief that most philosophers don’t know what they’re doing (including the dead ones) and those alive and kicking in this generation go by the thickets, not beating around the bush, but in front of it, very loud and very incoherent. And we eventually come to call them philosophical people who are defined by their incoherences and general ineptitude to grasp the infinite complexity of the self, the I , and the Me.

I hope nothing that I have said above made sense. I am planning to retire within three years of my graduation into a world that is not technical or mechanical, and is not governed by text books, computers and brains. I plan to retire into my heart and close the doors to the big bad wolves*!

(Wolves aka: ego, self)

what is bright, yellow, has no matter and is found everywhere?*

Of all the sicknesses that humanity as a whole suffers from, one very repugnant; the root of many evils is reactionary behavior. This force not only initiates impulsive anger, a sense of irritability, instability and threat, but impinges on peoples’ right to be. Most of the folks I come across online in forums or in actual physical presence seem to suffer from this reactionary syndrome. It is as if one has lost his/her intelligence to process what is reflected onto them whether by society, media or simple randomly expressed opinions. A certain element of hostility thus constantly prevails in the air.

In your mind’s eye, you can probably picture a ball being passed back and forth, switching hands, getting dirt from each individual, till it tatters and is shredded beyond recognition. The ball – here being an idea unanimously expressed – eventually declines to a state of abused mutilation. In the early stages of preponderance, I assumed it was a character defect, a personality disorder, some Freudian or Jungian phenomena, that should be left in the hospitals and asylums. However, confining a disease within walls does not imply we sit comfortably on our behinds and overlook its existence out here.

Where does this behavior begin? Homes, schools, or the streets? Everything comes down to instant retorts and remarks. And those who do not respond with the quick speed that our defunct culture functions at, you probably ‘didn’t get it’ – ‘too weird to fit in’ – ‘better left alone’ – or ‘bitch – cunt’ Obviously we have beheaded silence and adopted the crude route of thrash and thrust the finesse of our latent composition. Good people go bad because they are not treated well, the bad go bad(der) because there are no set limits to anything and hence we are happily riding the rollercoaster ride to free will, all the while dehumanizing each other. Welcome to earth 2009.

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*your jaundiced presence.
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[bobbing head, weird accent - Thank you, please come again]

the eleventh commandment: be happy

The whole point of existing, of coming into being, in this world – is to be able to do whatever you please. Not to sound too incredulous, the old age rule should however apply i.e. do unto others as you would do unto you. That moral issue cleared from the way, we must all, then like curious children, be happy (& devoid of conscience*).

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*(this rule does not apply to sadists & masochists)

The God who invented Idiots

A feeling of complete randomness often strikes me and I wonder what I am doing here in this country, do I even belong here? Will I ever feel at home? Forever stuck in a long meaningless journey, the likeness of sitting in a train, a train that has been journeying through a tunnel. Of being surrounded by idiots, I will not dispute, nor the difficulty in being so often misunderstood that I fear speech itself. The surprise of discovering infinite digressions of intelligence and character, the truth that no matter how much you try some people do not deserve what they have, that somehow life does not make any sense, and you have been cheated by God, because he had his fun and is probably laughing now.

I know for a fact that I will move on, I do not succumb to meaningless distractions. I make peace with myself before I sleep every day, I forgive myself for not falling down to other people’s shallow levels, I pat my back for following my own conscience, and preserving my sanctity and sanity, but I will move on, and leave everyone and everything behind. The question is, what will this time spent measure up to, an experience or an experiment? Or years lost in extravagance?

questions, thoughts, metaphysical dilemmas and more unlikely crap we don’t like pondering upon

I have often wondered how important it is to be honest with people and family, or can honesty be limited between whatever deity we believe in and ourselves?  The relation however being hypothetically non-functional (a dilusional comfort factor for some) or perhaps the deity here is our concience, (I not possessing any will replace that with God).

I don’t know why but I just can’t seem to bring myself to be companionable at times, the mere effort of talking is like attempting to dig a hole in the earth in search of water, and we all know how deep that is going to be. I can think of two reasons why this state of reticence takes effect, the first being, my love for books, for knowledge – since knowledge does not force itself upon me, but rather sits patiently, until I figure it out, assemble, and re-arrange it in my sphere of comprehension, then after we have established connection, we are friends for life. Now compare and contrast that, dear reader, with an actual living, moving, talking person, who comes along with a bunch of preconcieved notions, a personality & mind programmed from birth into the ways of our society, a society used to condemning differences with a hammer bang – bang – bang and you’re flat out reduced to nothing.

The second reason is my need for invisibility or non-being. Invisibility is good because it helps me determine who has night vision, who has the depth and insight to see things without the aid of external help, can you close your eyes and know where you are? If you were trapped in a small box would you have the ability to sustain yourself and figure a way of outdoing your circumstances? People who can generally see are blind in my opinion. They are seeing things which are already there, and hello? I am not even interested in you having to describe and tell me things which I would know, if you cannot detect the subtle changes in the constantly shifting intellectual paradigm of your exsistence, you are as good as an obsolete being. Go get an upgrade.

Like all living things, our world is a breathing, oftentimes hurt, entity that is thrust with the immense weight of our stupidities combined with the physicality of our bodies. We may often times reduce it to a mere piece of land, rocks, stones, and whatnot, and forage her womb until she is on the verge of an irreversable breakdown. Our destructive activities are not only limited to torturing the earth, but we gleefully engage in doing the same with each other. I can picture so many scenarious where siblings, lovers, couples, parents, etc would attempt at picking each other apart and then be driven miles away in hate.

So the patient earth (perhaps she seems patient because she cannot speak the human vernacular and we are too stubborn to learn hers) waits for just this one random day to strike out in anger and cause havoc on the ones hurting her causing mankind to scream, petrified of the disaster. I sit back and smile, happy that she has taken the initiative for revenge. Somethings need to be balanced, who hasn’t learned of equilibrium in economics?

Going back to honesty, how shall we be honest with each other? Let us begin by not trying to be anything in the first place. Second we aim at attempting communication. Which does not mean I ask you how good was dinner last night or whatever you did after that, neither would it be communication in the form of incessant complains. Communication if objectively defined would include, transfer of information, between two people/entities in order to create dialogue, to exchange, learn and grow by an active inter-play of ideas. Oftentimes I cring at having to communicate with members of my own family, knowing what they will ask, say, or confide, because in my length of vision, they are not attempting to move anywhere. I don’t hate circles, but if you love them so much, I’d suggest you join the circus. Lots of circling and trapezing going on there.

The biggest mistake we as human beings make is attaching ourselves to limited entities, then festering with them, like a puss filled pimple, waiting for it to break, which godforbid I should witness, ever. What we should be doing is, attaching ourselves to the unattachable. For then, you have a wide road ahead of you, of infinite possibility. May the Gods we believe in, grant us such a means, to attain what is not seen by sight, to acquire that which is not acquired by force, so we can deserve to be the rightful inheritors of knowledge and wisdom.

random shit.

bitch. cunt. I am so mad right now.

surviving bad literature

A couple of minutes ago, I was curiously reading Kundera’s Immortality (a book, that my friend passed on to me), and I was struck by how fucked up this writer was. He was describing in a passage, a scene, where people were incessantly in a symphonic manner yawning or stretching open their mouths, and the absurdity of capturing such a moment struck me as inane. Not only did the writer integrate this mundane moment into a paragraph, but managed to write an entire book, disparate in essence, depicting random nonsensical associations of people and situations that an otherwise semi-intelligent individual would perhaps only ponder upon in his feverish reverie. Thus the manifestion of it in an actual bestseller would seem very foolhardy.

I am not sure what merits a bestseller, the intelligence of the judge who picks out the book or the intelligence of the readers who sustain the sales pitch of the market? Let us assume, the judge adores the said novel, he is blown away by the simplified narrative/structure and cannot wait to let the world know about it, so he makes the announcements, and the book is awarded, a pulitzer, booker etcetra. But a certain inquisitve reader out of the million others, happens to get his hands on it, spends an evening trying to invest his concentration to look for that ’something’ but never finding it, assumes he is perhaps lacking certain neurological functions.

A Hundred Years Of Solitude is another such book, which petrified me, and I was never able to complete it. My father on many an occassion has said to me, and well himself, that if something is incomprehensble, don’t attempt it, don’t go near it. In short, he meant, things should be simple, or they’r not worth your time. Now, he is not a simple man. His kind of simplicity is the highly complicated kind. The mental maze, and puzzels you’d have to navigate in order to stand by his side, and understand his vision. Marquez writes a book, where the character names are beyond difficult to follow through as one continues to read, as well as the story which fails to sustain attention. I am not sure now, whether these writers encompass the greatness that the world professess to, or I lack the intellectual vigor, to amass what they have expounded upon.

The wise men say that if you possess inner clarity, your words, your actions, and your speech will likewise be. In reference to Kundera, or the likes such as Coelho, who attempt to relate to a civilization, that suffers from its own disintegration, elucidating rationalizations of love and life, in an attempt to create cohesion, where none can possibly exist, I can only arrive to the conclusion that we as a people are simply too complicit to fight our own selves. Societies like relationships fail, when efforts are ceased; the act is voluntary, and thus, the reticence to admit otherwise.

thou shalt not mock the lost and confused of the earth

I cannot believe the impunity with which I treat myself in spite of all the incredibly silly failings that I suffer from almost on a daily basis. Counting from the innumerable absent-minded gestures like forgetting what I was saying in the middle of a conversation, walking away from the cashier before paying and/or taking back my change of money, and/or panicking in the face of simple tasks such as operating the laundry machine in my basement, which I did for the first time today.  That bulky contraption seized me with more fear than a sudden ensuing war or major global catastrophe could. The more my thoughts strive on micro-analysis of things and people the lesser the degree of normal social behavior. Methinks the conjecture of normalcy obsolete.

 

The Rainbow

It is funny when I see teenagers act like they know the shit. Times have changed. Or must I say we have. Since my antipathy towards this entity that requires clocks and hands, or the crutch of the sun’s shadow to measure its effluence upon our progress or decline, has been an arbitrary ass-wipe concept in which I have refused to believe in. I simply do not understand why we function the way we do. Where must we go to that we aren’t in that place already? Adults ride their children’s assess as soon as the poor innocent creatures begin to develop their comprehension abilities, to be someone, go somewhere, whereas I who lack the necessary spatial skills for figuring out my way through these geographical nuisances see no point in the stupid discussion. I am going to sit here, (maybe under a tree in my backyard) and stay there until the next tsunami arrives. Will that satisfy our stupid mortal dilemma of existence?

 

Our world has been crippled by some menacing disease that has spread its malignant influence from the mere physicality of life into the deepest recesses of our essence flushing out any hopes of reiterating what has been dispossessed. Our lost paradise. We struck the first match and now cry, fire, fire.

 

Maybe it is intellectual laziness that causes me to think so, but what can cure a snake bite if not its own poison? Gandhi was wrong when he said, an eye for an eye will make the whole world blind. He was a chicken, a hermaphrodite, who chose stupid tactics and slithered his way out of imperialism. Now the entire country is living off his name, what a rip-off, but saves them the hard work of establishing their own identities huh? What happened to the world was, a couple of dope-heads made their way to the top of the human assembly of intelligence and power and began to advocate/dispose off their mental diarrhea on the lower-half of the populace, rendering us incapable of fresh air as well as the existential mobility to which we were entitled to as our birthright. So we stink, reek of polluted remnants not of our own doing, and yet they burden the shoulders of men, women and children, who think they are of sin. Whereas the original sin was the conception of ideas, the duplicity of our illusory sight, when man thought he was the almighty God, and began making offerings on the altar of his deranged brain.