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)

walk the line

i defined my thesis intent today in class, if i pass with a minimum of 84-85 after the three weeks of this course, i will be admitted into the program. otherwise, well there’s always the profession of a custodian awaiting me. reading excessive school text is very dreary and annoying however with some divine help, i usually pull through, not without a few pauses here and there, to write something, or talk to someone, while the old carriage of academic jargon continues to troll around my cerebrum, habitating the finite and infinite of what i am about to do. formal learning has always been aversive, but ironically i am still doing it. they say that contraries sometimes make up a person for who he or she is, i think, such opposing forces rip apart a man until he or his self is no more. so that leaves a lot of room for innovation. imagine a man, who might go by the name of jack or tom, but he no longer is a jack or tom, just a being habitual to his daily schedule, subjected to the needs of his family or immediate responsibilies. does the earth return to its previous intact dermal after an earthquake, volcano or unseemly excavations? beats me. let’s ask the archeologists.

I – It – She

sometimes i think that i do not have much to write about. my life revolves around its own fixed axis, narrow and purposeful, with little or no room for spontaneity. stability can be applauded for the assurance it offers one, but it oftentimes assimilates the identities of those involved. certain people can have a knack for multipilicity, they unfold and scatter like a manifold layered spectrum, wild and colorful. others expand within their spheres of comprehension. their knowledge of the common and inconsequential defines their being. they are not spectacular, they do not go the untrodden path, but like stones and pebbles on an oft ill-used road, remain – stoic and irreplaceable. yet they are what makes the road possible.

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]

random

someone did something,
someone went somewhere,
and then we all had a good laugh.

beyond the narrow road, underneath the blue skies lie the giant grasses singing a hymn to life

he was a mystery to me
the boy who would not be.

a secret
sublime.

the ocean fought
the wild tide.

day break
followed my song,
i sat up through the night.

he was a mystery to me
the story of a thousand nights,

and like a bird
love sought her cry,
between the wings of a dove
searching for the answers
earth denied.

eschatology ad verbum

Words are beautiful and when they are fused together coherently to create an image, represent an idea, a thought or a feeling, it becomes language. For as long as I can remember I have been interested in learning and researching the intricate fabric of lingual and cognitive sciences. If my doctoral thesis subject is approved, I will be found scattering my musings on the pages of my blog. Like restless birds in constant search for the skies, I will traverse the infinite shores of my consciousness to observe and collect the hidden pearls of knowledge.

more strong than time*

one more step to take and i will be there.

–
*Victor Hugo

The sharper the edge the cleaner the stroke

I love my new kitchen knife. It cuts through the vegetables effortlessly, and I realized this a while ago as I was chopping up the eggplant to cook vegetable stir fry for dinner. My friend often comes over and likes to utilize my unused kitchen apparatus for the purpose of cooking or experimenting as I would call it. Most days I am too laid back to bother concocting recipes to formulate any edible dish, which leaves me in the deplorable hands of bread and whatever I may accomadate between it. Peanut butter, jelly, hotdog, tuna, cheese, or simply lettuce and mayonise with a dash of green olives. Call it sloppy or unseemly, it is food neverthless. And the quickest to prepare when the stomach begins to get louder than one’s mother.

My friend rapidly growing accustomed to my place proclaimed several times how she felt at home and began to notice how I was missing things, she even got down to writing grocery lists because of my apparent lack of domestic concerns, she realized that the knives I often used were not sharp enough, and decided to take me shopping. We bought a set of knives with red handles, that gleamed and looked sharp enough to chop off human limbs. Sharp things do not scare me as much as having anything to do with fire, lighting a match etc.

So I decided to enjoy my knives, and used them today with considerable ease. Then it struck me, like a sort of divination, inbetween the smell of burning onions and garlic, that people may unwantingly enter your life and bring about certain changes which we had hitherto been unware of. I am a loner and I do not like being bothered with social concerns, as the dear human populace may wake up in the wee hours to groom themselves, I may be found dragging my blanket around in the kitchen huddled up, clad in a t-shirt and shorts, trying to stay in the cocoon of warmth, and nothing would be more irritating than listening to another person relate tales of their mishaps and adventures expecting cheery responses.

Misanthropic as I have so slowly become, I often encounter instances where it is better to let go trying to understand things and analyse them or worry about how odd I feel in the random sequence of events that surround my life. The beneficient lord may attempt to shower his blessings in innumerable forms, but how can illogic be made to appear logical, and must all beings be fitted into a predefined, preselected role? What if the programer who designed the program gets duped when the program becomes dysfunctional and cracks its own code?

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.