I lack the mental capabilities to give everything
up for the sake of an ideal. That's me, weak and afraid. But we all ar- why do
I look so much for way to justify myself instead of accepting it? I'm afraid of
having imperfections such as these and seek to rid myself idealistically of
them. Sometimes I fool myself into thinking I can't do anything about it. Maybe
I am right. I don't even know. I even try to justify suicidal tendencies with
the realization that life is pointless instead of my own weakness and fear and
I try to justify not doing it by thinking it would be a waste and it's the
cowards way. It seems that both doing it and not doing it are the coward's way
though. What do you do when you get to a state where feeling good becomes a
reason to feel bad and when you have to distract your thinking side by doing
something that takes you away if only for a couple of minutes. A song, a movie,
a videogame, sleep. It seems whenever I catch myself thinking of something and
not being distracted it's always something negative. When I realize it I also
tell myself there is no reason to be positive. It’s true, there is really no
reason to be happy. But is that enough a reason to be sad? No. The real
question is why do have emotions? The basic feelings of pain, sights, senses
etc. are there for the reason of survival, discernment between thing that are
good for you and things that are not, and yet happiness and sadness seem to be
disposable. Happiness comes as a reward for doing something beneficial to you,
sadness from depriving yourself of that. Therefore a thinking man can never be
happy, for he sacrifices need for curiosity. Or is it that I am generalizing
and you can truly be happy and philosophical? A thinking man should realize at
some point that if he truly want to be different from animals, ergo superior,
he must free himself from instincts, a fact contradicting his survival. The
real deduction is that intellectualism and rationality have no place in a
living creature. Outside the knowledge of its food, its predators and its
environment, an animal has no need for further information. The rest is
provided by instinct and genetics. So then, what role does knowledge of his
ancestor’s actions, of art and literature and so forth provide? Entertainment.
But this again has no benefit to it in the long run. Unless entertainment is
truly the meaning of life. Are animals other than human capable of
entertainment? It’s not something my knowledge can answer surely, but I think
that they are, to some extent (see: dogs playing fetch) . And yet all the
entertaining actions I can think of that animals do seem to be influenced or
even started by man. Dissecting the meaning of life is something that leads to
nowhere. Why do plants exist? So herbivores can feed, so oxygen can be
produced, etc. It’s either a circular answer or no answer at all. What benefit
comes to me for pondering all of this? Certainty? Am I scared of the unknown
that I really need to know the truth? Maybe at the moment, maybe subconsciously.
On the point of the subconscious, it is starting
to feel like I am made up of two parts. A sentient rational and logical
parasite inhabiting an instinct driven mammal that the parasite calls a human.
The brain named itself? What is the purpose of language when other animals can
make do without it? Why must it all be so fucking complex that I lose hours
thinking of it. Still, all of this
actually offers me a bit of satisfaction, especially the feeling of being right
and seeing (what I believe is right) that many others do not see.
I’m using English so much I’ve begun to stutter
in the use of my own language. I am becoming a pathetic piece of shit. The
lowest scum. Or have I always been one? That from the standards of the average
person, and since majority speaks, probably the right standards to consider. I
have no wish to articulate my thoughts other than one syllable words to others,
depicting just my needs, but someone can’t function like that in a highly
sociable race such as ours. A highly sociable race that keeps making itself
pseudo-social. Where are we even heading, backwards or forwards? Maybe both directions
at the same time, maybe sideways. This is the point where I become aware of my
hate for my race and start acting violently. Then I realize my hate is towards hypocrisy
and play-pretend but also see that I am blamable of the same things. I am also instinct
driven no matter how much I’d like not to be. I am a sad person and the fact
that I am sad makes me sadder.
What is insanity? It’s natural selection, but as
I believe I have said before here, natural selection no longer works in the
human society, and maybe even other species in the proximity of u- Oh god damn it shut up. Shut up and get
out of my head. Let me just sleep the eternal slumber, kill me once and rid me
of all this for I am too much of a coward to do it myself…yet. Fuck. Everything
is either boring or aggravating and I am getting sick of everything and
overflowing with hate, anger fear and disgust. I really want to go away and
take everyone, no everything with me. I want the world, no the universe to come
to an end because it is all illogical and purposeless. It all pisses me off to
no end and I utterly helpless in this mater. If I could only do something to
hasten its demise, I would, but I am so…so helpless. And the sky is so damn
beautiful today.
