Deep meaningful meaningless meaning full of shit shit

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.

XII

What are you doing in that dark room of yours, just sitting at the floor?
Going insane. 
Why? What's wrong?
I don't know. I never knew?
Poor confused puppy. 
I'm not.
You're talking to yourself, you must be.
I guess when you're alone enough, you develop some sort of dialogue partner.
But it's just a monologue, isn't it.
Maybe.
So, back to your concern, what is really wrong with you? With us.
How many times must I repeat myself? I don't know.
Really?
I don-... Damn it.
Yes, you're all alone. It's one of the problems, isn't it? After all, one doesn't talk to himself if he has somebody to talk to.
But there's no one who I can relate to anyway. The only person I can accept is myself.
Yes. You're the calm little centre of the Earth, aren't you?
It's not that. And after all, if it is, everyone is just self centered either way. I don't care. I don't understand their petty reasons that govern them and they don't understand the petty reasons that govern me.
I think at a large scale, they think of themselves? 
But that still doesn't make me better than them...
Did we just switch roles for a second? 
I'm going insane either way, so it doesn't really matter.
Isolated and driven out by a simple difference of cognition. In all your philosophical and thinking nature, you're still useless, weak and unhappy.
That's true, raising questions you can't have answers for has never made anyone happy. Just mad.
You're not going insane, and you're not special. You're just at an inexistent existential crisis trying to give purpose to yourself...
...When there is clearly none. The despair of not having a known trajectory. I know my limits, I know my strengths, I know my weakness, but I don't know my goal. Is there really none? Then there is no point in asking "To be or not to be?". The answers is obvious, it's not to be. But I don't want to die just to find out the answer. I'd like to convince myself that would be a waste, but it won't. Like most people, I'm just afraid of the unknown. The great unknown that is both life and death. 

IX

In Glaucon’s challenge to Socrates he imposes the fact that humans are evil by nature but only abide to law because of fear of consequence. In a manner of the stupid character representing the opposite of the opinion of the author, Glaucon’s words are, of course, disregarded, but when you think about it really, nowadays society proves otherwise. People are assholes left and right and you have to deal with it. You either become a rug for everyone to step on or another asshole, there’s no real mid ground here.

That just leaves on question: What is conscience? It’s not fact, but an opinion of mine (like I’d relay anything else here) that it’s another species self preserving mechanism. We can’t kill/steal from each other without feeling guilt because we are interfering with natural selection and fucking up the species. It doesn’t manifest as much for other species because it’s an inner species thing more. I could be wrong, as always.

It seems that every passing day I discover that the values I believed in are not present in my life. Affection is definitely not present, fairness is nowhere to be seen, equality is inexistent, intelligence is on the verge of extinction. All’s left seems to be friendship and oddly enough I/time/people seem to be severing ties more and more. Oh well, I hope nothing pushes me over the edge as long as I half self preservation and music.

I

          And so the movie (Good Will Hunting) ends with one of those bullshit love and good conquer all. But that's not how it happens. That's not how life works. It always ends badly. You go through life with a moderate amount of pleasant events and a load of other unpleasant ones and then what happens? You die. Some kind of reward that is. But wait, apparently there is a reward! If you're all nice and gullible you go to a awesome eternal peacefulness plane called 'Heaven'. Not only did we need to come up with an explanation for our existence, but we also had to think of some bullshit way to punish those who do not believe the fairy tales we've come up with.

But enough on that subject. I'm not good at anything. I can't draw, I’m not smart, I’m not sociable. I don't understand a fucking atom and how its electrons are set up around it or why “Morometii” is a modern post-war novel and I most certainly don't want to and don't think it is important or it will affect my life directly. I just want to break free of all these material and spiritual concepts. And I don’t mean go down the final solution, no that’s stupid. I literally mean cease to exist, eternal blackness and blankness. No fear, love, hate, hunger, fatigue, nothing at all. Just pure blackness, me, my thoughts and eternal silence would be all that ever existed. I keep ending up wishing that’s how death IS but don’t want to try and go there because I became attached to something. And not to people, I hate and like people. No, it’s the conveniences such as a cold glass of cola when you’re tired and a movie or game when you’re bored. I’m afraid I couldn’t go live without those. I’d like to say I don’t want the final solution, i.e. suicide, because I care about who’s going to be sad and what not, but I don’t. It’s the fear of lack of commodity and fear of pain.

I have to be trapped in this world where man shapes his surroundings. We could just live like animals, maybe stick to that spear that Ung came up with. But no, we had to go further and beyond, make swords, then bows the crossbows and guns so we can outlaw them and kill each other with and kill the animals in enclosed facilities with machines designed only for chopping them so Billy from down the street can have his processed pork steak dinner. Fuck this. We could have lived a simple life away from thoughts we think because we are not doing something else like trying to survive. Why are we all so depressed and stressed out is because we are not meant to develop the mental capacity we have. We’re supposed to be chasing that stupid squirrel for a meal so that we don’t starve, but we’ve made such a padded-walls-world that even natural selection has been driven out and we’re butt fucking ourselves because of overpopulation .Wake up, you moronic retards.

I really wish I could just stay and do nothing all day staring at shit on the internet. But I can’t even do what I like most all the time because I can discern it’s not going to put food on my table. And I don’t want to struggle all my life to make ends meet. We all end up grinding ourselves for that stuff anyway, but bah…