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| Is an illusion. A feeling that, though not wholly false or artificial, is misleading in it's very existence. Once it is found, it flees from the individual, luring him or her deeper into it's throes of addiction and dependency. The longer we find ourselves devoid of this drug, the more sensitive we become to the symptoms of it's withdrawal. The only consistent way of achieving happiness is through the abandonment of peripheral distractions and focusing ones mind on the one true reason we exist: to exist. Can one truly find happiness in any other way? We are victims of the largest case of groupthink ever observed. What really makes us happy? It is not as the world suggests, but as we know. The more one becomes entwined in the melting pot of general ideas and thoughts, the farther and farther we are pulled away from the realization of what truly makes one happy: what one truly desires. The mythical "true love" of desire.
Think about it. Is there any real reason to live? The ultimate outcome of life is death. This game, like all other games, actually has an end. The high score list only matters to those that care. What reason is there to live other than to live?
One can say that they choose the "high road": They live and die so that others can live better lives. But what's the ultimate outcome of that? Those who benefit from your self-appointed martyrdom only die, too. So far, I've only narrowed it down to the point where I've deduced that I live for a purpose. Sadly, though, that purpose, is to find a purpose to fill. In the end, though, I'll reach a point where there is a task, promise, whatever that I will never be able to achieve: an elysium that will end a finger's length away from my final resting ground.
Whatever, man. Perhaps this purpose is to whither away in this whirlpool of incessant thought.
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| This is one of those moments where this blog becomes an outlet for my rants: I'm fucking tired of people who can't stick to their motherfucking word. Now a promise is one thing and it's never ever excusable to break one. I know most people are pretty good about keeping their promises. However, people think they're much more capable then they really are. That's about 60-70% of the population right there. These people think they can keep multiple promises. Bullshit. Fucking bullshit. Promises translate to tasks. Tasks that need to be done, duties that need to be upheld, that's what a promise usually amounts, to. All these things can be viewed as cracks on a sheet of glass..
The more cracks you have on a pane of glass, the weaker it's structure becomes. It's your duty to fill in those cracks, a.k.a. fulfill those promises, as best you can. If not, you'll be running for a broom and dustpan.
Now comes the point where I relate the theoretical with reality.
I work at a theater, big woop. I worked at a high school theater. That really wasn't too fun. To be honest, while I did gain a lot of experience working there, I lost a lot of soul and heart. It was there that I began to realize, I actually didn't like any of the people there. Not even as human beings. Not even as animals. Why? Because, they never stuck to their guts. Sure, they loved theater and were "devoted" to theater. It was, after all, the essence of their living being. Roughly translated, they'd do everything they felt like doing for the theater. Honestly, that's a lot less real estate then it sounds like. How? Let me explain. While they really did love the theater, that point I still do not doubt to this day, they also loved many other things: the prospect of college, jobs, tests, social lives, eating, sleeping. What that meant was, there were so many other cracks on their panes of glass, they could only fill them in little by little, one by one. What you got was a bunch of half-assed projects. These brainless fucks couldn't get anything done because they couldn't commit to shit. I'd honestly rather not see you at the theater if you don't think you can devote a good portion of your time there. Seriously, time's money, don't fucking half-ass it on projects you can't finish. That's like dishing out the 10 grand for a civic and 10 grand for 5 months rent when you could just combine all the money and get something you really want. But hey. They're just highschoolers. All they know is that the world is round.
Now comes the college theater. I get all these fucks who whine about staying up till 4 in the morning working on shit. I actually feel bad for skipping out on the first two weeks of the summer show's setup in order to maintain some sanity. What do I end up doing? I end up staying till 2 A.M. working. These fuckers are just lounging around saying they're tired and all this other fucking bullshit. They knew we were gonna be up at night. They knew they weren't needed during the day to build the set. We stayed at night because we needed to hang lights and these fuckers complained about working under the sun. During the day they sit around complaining about how it's too goddamned fucking hot. Guess what. I built during the day. I hung lights at night. I'm not whining. I'm not crying. If you really wanna whine, go back to your mom so she can titfeed you some fucking comfort cuz she's about the only person on this god-forsaken rock that might even give half a damn. I'm tired of this bullshit. You kids signed on to finish the show. I don't care if you changed your mind, decided you had better things to do, were hungry/tired or didn't like the management. You fucking promised. You gave your word. Quit complaining about it because the quicker you finish your shit, the quicker you're actually done.
Commitments. I only like the ones that don't fucking involve romance. The only place I can ever truly force people to keep their commitments is on the fucking battlefield nowadays. Soldiers have to keep their word. That is to fight. Truth is, one can live fighting and die fighting at the same time and that is how I'll enforce opposing soldiers' commitments. Make em die fighting while I lived fighting and ensured my fellow brothers lived fighting up until I too, died fighting.
And that's truly because if a job's worth doing, it's worth dying for.
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| In this short break I have between essays, I wanted to take a quick break from the grind of scholarly academia in an attempt to stay within the hazed confines of sanity. I must say that on this break from sleep, I feel no physical effects of exhaustion as I am pumped full of caffeine and tobacco, but the psychological burden of this sortie is quite astonishing in it's debilitating powers. Through this fog of mental overclock, certain items become swallowed up clarity while other items sharpen to near microscopic clarity. The time spent trying to finish all the preparation for the rest of the day has been both a frenzied focus of work and frequent digressions into sideshows of peripheral thought.
Basically. In the past 15 hours, alot has been on my mind.
1. Don't fucking procrastinate. I'd explain more, but I'll do it later. For good reason, too, I need to finish cramming and typing.
2. If you're not willing to pay the full price of a bad choice, don't make it in the first place. Evaluate yourself. (As I was typing the previous phrase, an image of a generic african-american hoodlum solidified in the middle of the nowhere that my throes of unstable sanity are and said "Check yourself, nukka." So yeah, Either evaluate yourself, or check yourself. Nukka.) This includes anything and everything ranging from classes, career decisions and social plans to relationships, calorie plans, and vacation itineraries for trips to Chile. Ask yourself if you're willing to risk losing all that's possible to lose. If so, make the call. If not, don't do it. Simple? Yeah.
3. There are breaks and then there are distractions. If you need to piss in the middle of an essay session, do it. But if you find yourself in the bathroom reading "Insignium Astartes: The guide to the armies of the Space Marines." be prepared to slap yourself across your face with your right buttocks because that's probably what you deserve.
4. Depression is not an excuse. If a guy as week as me or Gollum can live with ourselves, then you certainly can go on even if you feel sadder about yourself than an anorexic in a hall of mirrors. Seriously, just because you feel down, there is no excuse to stop and wallow in your own sadness. You need to shift focus from the pain to what you can gain. Nukka.
5. Music is Elysium. Yes, I like techno. No the techno song, Elysium by Scott Brown, has nothing to do with the fact that music is elysium. Music is a driving factor behind me. Simply put, I am nearly hollow of emotions because music will fill in the gaps and mold me to suit the mood. Metal gets me going and very angry, techno either mellows me out or gets me hyper according to the beat, emo music makes me hate myself (mainly for listening to emo music) and classical music makes me want to sleep or learn for leisure.
So yeah.
Good break. Thirteen minute typing session. Nukka.
Here's an early good morning and a late goodnight from your half sane, half in wonderland asian.
Peace.
Nukka.
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| I now begin a series of writings where I will attempt to deeply examine my mental, psychological and emotional being. And without further ado (seriously), we begin.
Excess. What truly satiates the pallet of a glutton. Gluttony, by the way, is one of the seven deadly sins. By that statement, one can deduce that excess leads to gluttony which leads to sin. Basically, you can gather that excess is bad. However, the organized measure of excess is misleading. How does one define excess? According to the English Dictionary of Merriam-Webster, excess is defined as "the state or an instance of surpassing usual, proper, or specified limits". Proper or specified limits. That is a very interesting phrase that can be subject to many interpretations but for my purposes today, I will just translate that phrase into the word "reason". So now we are left with the definition that excess is "the state or an instance of surpassing usual reason", and this is the phrase I will apply to my examination of my personal motivations today.
Without much effort, it can be deduced that I am a glutton. How? I'm not fat, I am not addicted to any drugs, nor do I have any pointedly unhealthy habits. Yet I live in excess. I make no secret of it, in fact, I embrace excess. Why should a man live with limits? One life, one chance, that's all I get. Why should I hold back on any need or want? I will live life to beyond the fullest.
-If I am to live, I will live enough for two lives.
-If I am to eat, I will eat hearty and my expulsions of approval will be even heartier.
-If I am to speak my mind, I will speak it with such clarity that a blind man will see the meaning behind my words.
-If I am to work, I will grind my fingers down to the bones before even considering the acceptance of failure.
-If I am to seek transportation, the only method of transportation I will accept is the loudest and fastest method presently available.
-If I am to love, I will love until my heart overflows with passion and let it feed the world. (End world starvation?)
-If I am to die, my death will be dynamic. Silence and peace will not be the goal. A peaceful death is pointless. Would one speak in a whisper before entering a library only to continue in whispering once inside?
Excess is a driving motivation behind almost all of my actions. I am a deadly sinner. I am a glutton.
Or am I?
I do love excess but I can not stand an excess of excess. To make sense of it all, I have limits. I only choose to set all of my limits slightly farther into excess than most others. Would I live my life beyond the fullest only to upset the many billions of others I share the earth with? No. Would I only speak my mind out of spite in order to cause those who listen to stream tears down their face? No willingly or without remorse. Would I drink till my liver fell out of my ass so that it could be fed to dogs? Not unless I was forced against my will.
I love life and I love it more than most. If that is to be a sin, then so be it. I welcome my eternity in the confines of hell.
If the evil can love and the holy can lust for blood, then even a sinner can be a saint.
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| Emo heading, I know. But it's a lyric I quoted from a great song. I think I'll be doing that more from now on. Anyway, here goes.
“You are not free whose liberty is won by the rigour of other, more
righteous souls. Your are merely protected. Your freedom is parasitic,
you suck the honourable man dry and offer nothing in return. You who
have enjoyed freedom, who have done nothing to earn it, your time has
come. This time you will stand alone and fight for yourselves. Now you
will pay for your freedom in the currency of honest toil and human
blood.”
I've long been searching for a quote like that. One that truly and accurately describes my feelings towards the whining bitches that call soldiers names like "murderers" and "baby-killers". It's pathetic. People who sue for peace are fucking hypocrites. They say the love their freedom. Some even go as far as to say their fathers fought for freedom. What have they done? Nothing? Hmm. I guess so, eh? And to boot, most of these people are the same ones who go off initiating conflicts because they refuse to accept certain people and give them the comfort of being left alone because these "pacifists" have to have things done their way. Most of the times, when the situation isn't tipped in their favor, the resort to conflict to decide the victor. They can accept that it's OK to fight for their own cause but they can't condone the same when their country does it? My goodness, I didn't know people could be born with such a deformity as having their head permanently shoved up their assholes. Fucking pathetic.
A true person of values needs to realize that one's own values may mean everything to oneself but may mean nothing to others. Since the ratio of other people to you is usually in the range of a few million to one, it's quite easy to see why one must accept that their own beliefs might actually mean zilch. A single pebble might cast a ripple but a billion could stem the flow of a sea. Harvest the principle and apply it to mankind. You can't build a wall if you throw the stones and pebbles in random directions at will.
Yes, I know that what was just covered up there actually applies to my rant as well: The idea of a unified humankind might actually be rubbish, but any idea is worth fighting for. The only problem is when you've fought too hard for an idea.
Whatever, I think I've lost my bearings at this point so I think it'll do best to continue this blog some other time. (Hereby changing title of blog to "Don't wait for me, Cuz I won't come back Part 1.")
Peace
FYI. From now on, the song I draw the lyrics from for my titles will now be included with the blog. (Gamma Ray- Beyond the Black Hole.)
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