Over the last few months, I realized that there were things, even the silliest things, about society that I liked. This seems to have re-enforced the belief I have in humanity as a whole. Sure, a majority will always be corrupt to an extent and easily swayed, but there are others out there trying more than I could ever try. The ‘doers’ of this world aren’t all bad. Some have ideals close to mine, but in reality they are not free to change everything at once.

The truth about the human condition is that unless you can take into account every single factor that makes us, you couldn’t get to a perfected solution. Reason or logic is what readily sets us apart from all other creatures in the world, but it represents only aspect of human nature.
Conveniently focusing on only a few aspects of human nature, such as throwing logic as the core vector in an attempt to get to a perfected society - as though logic itself had the power to make everything right- is doomed to be narrow-minded and flawed.

Logic is what we make of it, which is why most people who do possess a high degree of logic, will willingly throw it away or use it to further their corruption.

Time flies.

One moment you’re here doing this, the next you’re over there doing that. Everything becomes a memory in your own head, and while others might share the same sort of memory in time, it is never the exact same recollection. Each mind focuses on what marks them, and what marks an individual is always slightly different from what marks another. Everything we do now is a fleeting moment already linked to the past.

There is no future as such, only a chain of events unfolding from one previous action to the next.

Thus, I am left to wonder if all we really are in the end isn’t a mere collection of memories. After all, what is left beyond time passing to prove our own existence but the memories created? Do I not know who I am because I remember the chain of events that unfolded so far in my existence? I might not remember everything in exact detail, but I remember the general trend. Yet memories are famously unreliable.
The mere fact that the brain has the tendency to embellish them, if not cut out the worst out of them, makes me question the impact of memories on a person’s own view of themselves or their life as a whole.

Facts linked to the past can sometimes be verified, and based on the general consensus that we people as a whole exist and share the same physical vision of reality (We all see the same row of houses in the distance, or the sun rising over a canopy of trees and agree that these things exist), we can often agree that we went to a certain place at a certain given time. For instance, I remember working at a cinema in London. The make-up of memories is such that it can easily be compared to a dream-like vision in the mind’s eye. When I remember that cinema, there is nothing in the present to prove that the memory I have in fact happened in the past. However, I can go back to that cinema, and either meet people who would vouch for me that I did work there at some point in the past, or there could be some paperwork still existing and proving that I was once a worker in that place.

Objects or facts - what remains more or less unchanged throughout the course of time- become the most reliable constant or anchor for us, changing vectors on the spectrum of time. Those constants or anchors enable us to at least create a more reliable timeline of existence. So... What about the self?

What is there to ensure that what I remember of my self is accurate? If I read back things I wrote about myself, or about certain feelings I experienced in time, I am often unable to relate to such feelings anymore and often I realise that I would have completely forgotten about such feelings, had I not written them down as a form of anchor. If I delve into the memories of my life so far, my whole existence is based on a recollection. There is nothing concrete or real apart from that split second that constitutes the present. In many ways, my existence is forever drowning in a dream-like realm which does not exist in our physical reality.

Right now, I am sipping coffee, but once I have finished drinking, the act of sipping coffee will belong to the past. I could repeat that action often enough to blur the line between past and present, in the sense that the repetition of action will give me the illusion of continuity in time. Once an action is past, it no longer exists.

I am left to ponder on the task I set for myself which was to get to know my true self. If all that I am ends up almost instantly filed under the realm of memories, then how do I ensure that what I remember of me is accurate? We see that we can at least base ourselves on physical anchors, but those only reflect physical existence relative to time and space. I can only ensure that the memories of my existence are accurate in terms of physical presence in some place or other. As such, I can prove that I grew up in Paris by simply looking into the lasting existence of paperwork such as a birth certificate and school records. I can prove that I moved to London, or that I traveled abroad by looking into my passport and see the stamps on the pages. I can prove that I knew a certain person if that other person acknowledge my person, and so on. But how do I prove that what I know about my self is accurate? Because the search for knowledge into your own self is based on introspection, it must necessarily rest on memories. And memories beyond physical anchors is fickle. In fact, don’t I remember more the places and actions I took as a child than the precise feelings I went through? I could have a vague recollection of feeling sad or angry at some point in the past, but what is there as a physical anchor to prove that what I felt at that time was precisely that sort of sadness or anger I seem to remember?

Writing becomes the sole anchor available to keep a grip on memories’ reliability, beyond that the margin of error becomes far too great to be trusted.
Ideally, one would need to write about everything that is happening now in detail, focusing on the feelings and thoughts, to catch a glimpse of the true self as it unfolds beyond the ever-changing nature of the human mind. Then again, if one was to write absolutely everything close to the present time, then they would have no time to exist in action. I reach a catch 22 situation where a second-best solution must be adopted, which is roughly to write as much as possible without letting the writing interfere too much with the present of living.

I am reaching the point where I wonder why it appears so important to me to know myself truly. What is the core reason for such an obsession? What is the point?

My unwillingness to be a random vector on a spectrum might be what pushes me to try and make sense of reality. I cannot find the right words to express my thoughts on the matter just yet. My gut feeling has known for some time now that the whole must be more important than the detail, so that the individual himself becomes of lesser importance than humanity. Yet I fail to see clearly the thread of thought that would lead me to that conclusion. It might well be my own individual side playing tricks on me as I refuse, somehow, to accept that conclusion because I cannot accept my own insignificance outside humanity as a whole.

In some ways, it is easy in theory to reach the conclusion that humanity is more meaningful than the individual self, yet when I look at the individual in detail, it is as though I can see a miniature of humanity itself locked into one person. I know I’m missing an important point, and I have missed that point for some time now. It bothers me, but I can’t find it.

There is something about reality and illusions that bears a significant impact on the meaning of life, I’m pretty sure of that much. Time and gravity play a part in the equation, but I have yet to arrange all of them in the order they should be placed to find the correct solution.

My gut instinct tells me that the key rests on the ability to peel off every single illusion cushioning reality, like one would the skin of an orange. Yet every time I attempt just that, it gets harder to pursue that quest. It leads me to wonder whether we’re even supposed to do that.

Perhaps we, humans, aren’t supposed to peel off the layers of illusions, perhaps we are supposed to remain immersed in them for our own good.

But... That makes no sense to me. Just as I don’t understand why endless questioning of everything should be frowned upon by the majority. If there are people in this world who are capable to choose to kill, for instance, then why should peeling off layers of illusions be such a massive task that could take away your sanity in the end?

Perhaps the issue is as old and complex as the chicken and the egg and which came first.
The lack of certainty as to the meaning or purpose of life means that we immerse ourselves in what makes existence easier to bear. If we had a clear answer as to the purpose of life, then we might be less frightened to look at reality beyond the illusions. Until then, we are doomed to follow man-made beliefs and deluded ideas we might come up with for a purpose.

The curse of individualism

Life is a playground. You build sand castles and some get destroyed or they crumble on their own. That’s just the way it is because sand is weak and easily stumped on. A sprinkle of water can melt it down to a puddle. What do you do when your little sand castles melt down for one reason or other? You build another one, and another, and another... because that’s all life is about for the living. You have nothing else to do but keep building sand castles along the path, and if you don’t then you might as well be dead already, because there is nothing else to do in life. Of course now the playground is very crowded. There are a lot of people building castles everywhere you look, and it might be that we’re fast running out of space to build anything at all. Maybe that’s the problem.

Some people have managed to privatize chunks of that playground for themselves, which means that those areas are now off-limit for the rest of us. “The rest of us” are left with whatever space there is out there, and I suppose that space would look more like tiny parking spaces than the stretching beach in the distance. In the very beginning, however, the playground of Life was nothing less than a stretching bout of immensity and if you didn’t like your spot, you picked up your bucket and moved to another corner to start building your castles again.
But now... You can’t go anywhere. Your mind might be freer than it could ever be (education...) yet your body is chained to a certain spot, and to move requires the strength to break those chains.


Are we fast approaching the end of an era? I tend to think so. 2050 would mark the hundred-year benchmark of modern society. The birth and free fall of capitalism. The era when people experimented with a certain aspect of freedom revolving around individuality and ownership. Materialism blossomed like never before, but it always existed. The difference between today and the past centuries is that today most people are allowed to pursue the quest for materiality, whereas before it was reserved for the privileged sections of society.

If you let everyone strive to get what they want (whether they get it or not), then where is the limit? If there is no limit, then how do you prevent excess? And if there is excess, how do you slow it down? By reverting back to more drastic measures.

If history is anything to go by, one could predict that in a few more years there will come a time when we will revert back to something more conservative. The wheels are already in motion. For every loose step we took in society, we will make two steps back in the opposite direction in an attempt to regain a balance. It is a pure physics matter: if the balance tips too far on one side, then the only way to bring it back to its equilibrium would be to add more weight on the other side. Chances are that we will put too much weight at first, making the balance tip all the way down the other side.
So... There it goes as the law of Gravity would have it, the balance of social structure:
In one simplistic schema you have the politics of the world condensed as one. The detail, as always, gets complicated, but the whole picture still remains as basic as ever. No matter how much we like to complicate matters, the whole spectrum remains invariably simple.







Today, we probably stand close enough to the edge of the Freedom side. Hence we would get something of the sort (Heavy side= dominant side):

With a capitalistic structure, the individual is left to strive and the pursuit of wants is quite simply unrestrained. Profit on a personal scale is encouraged and nurtures the materialism boom.
At first glance, I can see the appeal and benefit of such a system. It allows the individual to rise from the ashes if he wishes to, and if he has the strength to do so. It makes what was never possible before a new possibility of modern times: anyone is given a chance (more or less) to better their own lives at least on a material scale.


With this blossoming of personal freedom, minds open up and morals loosen their grip on people. Religion, the barking dog in a corner that used to keep people in line to an extent, is muzzled up to a whiny whisper in the background. money is no longer just the metaphorical ruler of the world and realm of possibilities, it becomes the new God because, let’s face it, money is the only salvation of the living.

As minds open up and boundaries between the wealthy and the poor is blurred - not erradicated but blurred- society, at least in the Western part of the world, becomes more tolerant of personal choices and wants. What was once prohibited might no longer be so today in various areas. Think of same sex partnerships, women working or striving to be treated as equals, education for all, the so-called freedom of expression, etc...

We seem to reach the apogee of what true freedom ought to be and feel like on the clear basis that individuals are for the first time allowed to pursue their wants - as long as those wants don’t infringe on another individual’s right to pursue his own, I suppose.


Now, in theory this system would probably work incredibly well, if - if- we were to implement it on a small-scale population. But this system doesn’t apply to a handful, it applies to a big part of the world and its values are spreading, and not always in the order it ought to be implemented. Values are spreading, yet the structure itself isn’t. The end-goals of such a system (capitalism) are reached all the while skipping the stepping stones needed along the way to reach such end-goals. For instance, let's think of of Third-World countries. Some are still struggling to meet basic needs such as hygiene and food for their population, yet you will find people living in shacks with a television or computer, fed dream-like rag-to-riches stories that make the individual living in basic conditions yearn for more than he has. The individual often begins to strive for “the better lifestyle” regardless of what might be at stake in doing so. How different would his actions be, had the correct order of change be put in place? In other words, what if he had first seen his shack morph into a decent home, or if he had been granted proper food to live on, and only afterwards, set eyes upon that television or computer?

In the end, the system itself is left to unfold almost to its own accord, without much control as to the direction it might take further down the line.


It becomes the snowball rolling down the steep slope, and you could have stopped it or slackened its speed if only - if only!- you had remembered to place breaks on it before setting it loose. Now the snowball is rolling, and rolling, getting bigger and bigger as it rolls down the snowy slope, and it becomes incredibly difficult to control its direction or to merely divert its course from the bumps ahead and whatnot. As it keeps rolling, it can now crash at any given time against a protruding rock. It is, in essence, what is happening now in our era. As people run after that giant ball, they slowly begin to drop, one after the other, panting and exhausted. When the last one drops, that’s when the balance will be struck again. Because we will have gone to one extreme, we will rush to another. We will get to this:
(again, heavier side= dominant side)

As highlighted earlier, with every loose step taken, two shall be taken backward at this stage. Thus, for every lost lost piece of moral, for every given freedom, the opposite result will be sought in a new wave of oppression. The birth of a more open-minded society will be quashed in infancy for having grown too fast and distorted. Religion, the barking dog whose muzzle was shut to a whimpering whisper will be set free to bark louder than ever before. Women will be sent back to the kitchens to resume their baby-making sole role. Education will become once more a privilege, and the so-called freedom of expression will become but a distant memory. The pursuit of wants will still exist, but will revert back to being to the sole reach of the privileged. The "common" man will no longer have a right to set foot on the ladder.
This will happen. Why?

People want things now. They want it now because people, beyond the generality I am making here, think in terms of individualism. They want it for themselves, because they know they won’t be around to see the end result. Their grand-children might, but they wouldn’t. Why should they sacrifice their generation for others to come? because every single generation is reluctant to take a slow pace in shaping social directions, because they cannot stand the likelihood of their individual selves not ripping the rewards, everything must be rushed. Everything has to be done in the fastest time frame. And yet patience is the key. Taking care not to skip steps is paramount to a better chance of making society evolve naturally so that loss of control in any given theory we choose to implement in reality is minimized. But who cares about patience?
That is why we always keep going from one extreme to another. I suppose we could conclude that this must be due to human nature.
The curse of individualism.

Nature vs. Fate

05/05/09

They say you should enjoy life, take every moment as it comes along, because we are alive today, and we should be thankful for that miraculous gift.

And I see the trees, the flowers, the sky and its glaring golden eye piercing layers of whiteness, and I feel quite very small and insignificant. I see Time passing, I see the billions rushing here and there, by chance or following a well-rehearsed path. I see nature, and I hear my own reason. There is a clash, and yet I’m always nature’s bitch.

Is there really something I’m supposed to learn from a sense of alienation as I like to think? Or have I put myself in that situation, somehow?
It comes down to whether I believe in Fate, destiny, or complete free will and randomness. The latter would presume that every step we choose to make lead us further down a particular path, and as steps are taken, the path takes a shape as influenced by the sum of all our actions and decisions. It puts the blame of the outcome on the individual, so that failure becomes the individual’s own responsibility. Nothing outside the person can be blamed for the mistakes but the person because the latter shaped his own life through actions and decisions of his own accord.

Thus life in itself can only be random, and we are free only in so far as we are ‘lucky’ enough to be born in places that allow us to grow as people. It places our species in line with all other species on the planet, and nature governs all, while our capacity to reason as humans is merely a reflection of a possibility. It would imply that such a capacity that seems to set us apart from all other species is in fact completely dependent on chance opportunity. Somewhere on Earth people were born in natural conditions that allowed them to develop a reasoning capacity which they then chose to nurture and pass on to the next generations. Reason is like a glitch of nature, but its very nature makes it quite possible that man was then able to nurture that capacity when all other minor glitches usually disappear down the line.

If I believe in Fate, however, I must presume that a bigger force is at work, somehow. More importantly, if I choose to believe in Fate, then I remove the weight of blame from my shoulder and I become Fate’s toy. Whatever happens isn’t really my doing, but that of something which I cannot fight, for it is already set in stone, somewhere. It takes away any impact my decisions or actions may have because I am merely following what is already planned for my person. Thus, if I am to fail or fall, I am free to blame any other entity out there but me.

It’s such a straightforward notion, isn’t it? I am not discovering anything new in the slightest here.

Then why does it seem so difficult for me to decide once and for all as to which theory I must believe in? Reason grants more power to the natural random theory, mainly because the natural world as it presents itself allows the gathering of more evidence, while the Fate theory is based more or less on notions of faith on the supernatural.

While my reason leans toward what makes more sense so far, my person is torn, and that feeling is far-removed from logic. It is fear. Basic fear.
Accepting fully that I am part of a world based on natural randomness takes away any possibility for me to cling on to the delusion of uniqueness or importance of the person in the world. Or rather, the importance of the Person vs. Humanity.

A free fall into the Fate theory, as lacking in logical evidence as it stands, allows me to cling onto the notion of uniqueness to an extent. I become passive in my own existence, and that might well be the reason why it appeals to my person, because I am naturally of a passive nature.

If human nature follows the course that nature intended for all living creatures despite the glitch of ‘reason’, then is our innate selfishness and all vices or flaws but a mere reflection of a species?
Our reason chose to attach to our flaws or vices a negative connotation for only two main reasons that spring to mind: society and religion.

Yet nature discriminates only against the weak. It is the weak that are left behind; the weak are killed or eaten; the weak often miss out on the opportunity to procreate. If one is too weak to survive then it will most likely die or perish. If a lion is strong enough to break necks then it is given a better chance of survival.

tbc

Random thoughts on yet another midnight day

I woke early today. I used to be able to wake up before dawn, but now I have to drag myself out of bed, and not even the occasional ray of sunshine seems to help.

So... I opened my eyes and was plagued with random thoughts and memories. I walked to the bathroom to find a fox sitting in the garden. I thought that was odd, but then nothing really surprises me anymore. I made myself some coffee, the first of many to come, and I lit up a cigarette. I sat in front of the computer to indulge in more pointless thinking that will only lead me to a self-induced headache.

I wondered about this wasted year I've just spent on my own, and I wondered what it would be like going back to university in September, because let's face it, I'm going back. I mean, one year left. Wouldn't that be a waste not to finish what was started? I guess I still fail to see what I could do apart from finishing my studies. Then at least I'll get a shiny piece of paper to hang on the wall of my toilet at the end of it. I'll be able to boast about having a degree, even though technically I already have one under my belt, except I don't remember anything I was meant to learn there. Call it a mistake of youth, I only got an idea of what I wanted to do when I was about 23, and now I just turned 26. I choose to call the period before my 25th birthday a coma.

I thought that maybe if I sat for a very long time thinking I would get to understand the meaning of quite a few things in this messed up life. But then, I'm no Buddha, am I?

A part of me urged me to go out and actually see people, anyone. I thought, hell yeah, why not? If I'm going to see people then I might as well ensure that I'll be able to drink so that the pointless chatting and empty words can drown in my torpor.

I should get out of my own head more often, maybe. Pretend that everything is great and interesting when everything means pretty much nothing. I should make more of an effort to find a job, or work experience. I should make a list of all the things I ought to be doing and then burn it. Now, that is a joyful thought to me.

Ought, should, must, have to... Expectations. I fail to see the point in any of this, apart from the fact that it answers others' wishes but mine.

Does that make me selfish, silly, immature, maybe? Well, does it?

Or am I plain depressed? Well, am I?

And if I am, does it matter?

My mind is a black hole filled with junk rotting in the sun, yet you would never guess walking past me in the street, because, hey, apparently I give off the impression of sheer confidence brimming with joy.

That reminds me of the time, a couple of years ago when I was actually depressed and on those wondrous little happy-chirping pills. I was on the bus with a guy from work and we were laughing at something stupid. Then our conversation somehow brushed the topic of depression. The guy said he had been depressed in the past, and I nodded heartily, saying "Oh yeah, that kinda happened to me, too."

He stared at me for a moment as though I had just spoken in another language.
"You? Never. You're too happy all the time to be depressed," He said.

Strangely enough, I felt a little offended by his reply. You see, it is a recurring pattern in my life: People always dismiss whatever I have to say because somehow I must be so happy, so confident, so arrogant and clever.

Well, I don't believe in the empty shell of words like happiness, my mind feels as blank as a newborn's slate, and the world scares me shitless.

I'm forever the odd one out because somehow I manage to get where I wasn't supposed to get.
But maybe it's starting to grow on me. Maybe, just maybe, I'm beginning to see the irony of my life as a whole and at least that makes me laugh.

Then again I have a lousy sense of humor. I like dark and sarcastic because it reflects reality more faithfully than any other sugar-coated form of humor.

I don't care what happens next. This life is a joke.

Through the tiny window

Since the door to the back garden has become a no-go area, I’ve had to find another way to get into that bloody garden. The mini swamp right outside the door means that a swarm of wasps is forever buzzing around.

Not to be deterred, I squeezed through the small bathroom window and managed to get into the garden. I went to the far end to have a closer look at that single bright red poppy that blossomed out of nowhere a few days ago. The grass is so overgrown now that I can’t see my shoes as i walk across the neglected lawn. Green stems keep growing upward in thick clumps, flies, bees and wasps buzz around, and the small pond is covered in dead leaves and mud.

As soon as I reached the far end I felt like Kara - the heroin of my little story- for a split second, except I can’t stand bugs and keep chasing them away like a mad woman. The wilderness of that neglected bout of garden is like a condensed glimpse of nature left to its own device.

Suddenly, I felt insignificant and small, but in harmony with the fact that everything that is alive around me is in fact in the same boat as me. We all share at least one common destiny, from the tiniest blade of grass to the fox that wanders across the garden at times, to the human being using his brain to make sense of everything at once. We all live to die in a never-ending cycle of life and death that gives the world as a whole its beauty. We’re all speckles, and when looked at in detail, each speckle pales in significance.

But take a step back and look at a gathering of such speckles, and beauty emerges strong and powerful. In some ways, it seems that perfection doesn’t lie in the detail, but in the whole.