Identity

I don't know anything anymore. I don't think I ever knew anything in the end.

Everything has again taken the colour of stupid these days. In my reality, I still need to carry on 'as normal'... People smile at me and I smile back at them. Inside I'm bleeding, but I know they can never see it - I am too good a mask wearer in reality.

I tell myself "It will pass. Yes, it has to... This emptiness eating at me, it will pass at some point, surely. When, I do not know, but eventually..."

Like a ghost, I carry on, smiling and nodding, perfecting my social mask so no one can see in how much inner pain I am. So no one can see how much I hate everything right now. How much I want to climb atop the highest mountain in the world and scream till I lose my voice.

One thing is for sure: identity is an illusion. There is no 'I' within, only a constellation of masks we create for ourselves throughout existence, which are then worn according to a situation or the people we need to adapt to. That's why trying to figure out the true self is a waste of time. If I stayed in complete isolation for a long enough period of time, maybe I would only get to wear one mask, but still, it would only be one version of my self.

There is... no self. Only selves. The key, I suppose, is to take control over what selves one wants to keep, and what selves one wants to bin. If I keep only those that make absolute sense and the ones that help me get to a perfected reasoning, then maybe there is hope that my person as a whole will begin to make sense in reality as well.

Aliska is just another role I play. The role of the deep, wounded thinker in a world that will never listen to reason.

I have played so many roles in my life. One once told me that humans were really role-playing animals, and I can't agree more with that point in the end. This whole world is like an ancient Venice ball where people used to dress up and wear those colourful feathered-covered masks... Wearing those feathere-covered masks, people keep dancing at random with one another, and it doesn't matter where their steps lead them, for they can never see beyond each step they take.
Above them stands the 'authority' that pretends to know better, but everything in reality is based on illusions and flawed perceptions.

Raining Down To Reality

Some people say that passion is the greatest of all emotions. Some say it is the most valuable of all, others will say it is the core of all others and that many lack that core component. Being more passionate than every single person on this planet makes me wonder if all those who say these things have any idea what true passion really is about.

Sure, you can look it up in a dictionary.

Sure, you can 'think' that you know what it entails, what it means to have it burning within you, you can even kid yourself that you have it in you.

The truth is... no one has a clue. How could anyone have a clue as to how powerful a crushing wave it is when released at once when people can only feel numbed down versions of it from the moment they were born?

I tell you now, reader... Passion is everything you never got to feel. It's like burning fire within, exactly like wildfire. And that is why it must always be contained, or handled with the greatest of care. Why? because fire burns. Wildfire can burn everything at once.

So I learned for myself that this passion within I was born with must either be contained, or handled with the greatest of care... So that it doesn't burn and destroy everything when it could become the one unique power to reach perfection - sublimity, as I so often like to call it in a nutshell.

I was never meant for this world of yours. I mean... really. I wasn't. I keep thinking 'how can I be born the way I am, be the way I am, in such a world that was never wired to cope with my kind? A world whose emotions and depths of thought are about as deep as a toddler's swimming pool...'

Sure, there are many great brains out there. Philosophers who come up with mindboggling concepts, scientists who invent the most far-fetched things, doctors who can cure the uncurable, writers who become the next Shakespeare, composers who create masterpiece for the ear... whatever. They all follow the same pattern, they all fit in the great scheme of Life as the whole world knows it. They are all different and yet so alike...

Because... For every apparent difference lies complete similarity. The detail may differ, but the whole remains the same stiff and contrived picture. And if that picture happens to be fractured, then it matters not that the detail should be intact, for the whole continues to remain intrinsically broken.

I see this broken picture of a world so very clearly in my mind's eye, and I fight against it with all the might of my inner self...

But still I wonder: what am I doing here. I was only a child and I dreamed of escape because at the time I already felt there had been a mistake - this was not the world I wanted to live in. I wanted to escape where my inner self felt freer and more 'at home'... in a fantasy land. Somewhere, anywhere, so long as it did not include this reality.

The coldness of reality... Can anyone else ever feel it? I feel it constantly. Cold, ruthless, blind, predictable and... pointless.

Passion was never supposed to exist in reality... people can only ever deal with it or understand its true nature within the 'safe' realm of fantasy... Isn't it lovely to watch a good movie full of passionate people? Isn't it lovely to read a book depicting a passionate hero or heroin? Sure... It is lovely and we seek to get our next fix all the time because - again - the passion we witness belongs to the realm of fantasy... so people feel safe, they feel they can indulge in kidding themselves that because they read about passion they know what it actually is in reality. Well, let me make one thing clear: they DON'T.

If they did... They wouldn't be spending their entire existence trying to anihilate passionate people in reality. Like leetches, they spot the passion burning within the person, and they will drain, and drain, and they will stab, and stab...

It is a dying breed, my kind. Sometimes I find myself wishing I was different. In other words, I find myself wishing I was just as bland and numb as everyone else, just so I can breathe again and heal my inner wounds.

Passion has no place in this world. I should know. Anyone claiming otherwise does not know what true passion is about. If they knew, they would know that it must always be handled with great care - because wildfire burns, and it can burn everything.

And then I look up at the sky, at its unrestrained infinity... and I am reminded that though this life is more like a painful joke on my account, there is still pure beauty and a glimpse of what freedom ought to feel like out there.

But not here. Here, everything is as much dead as it thinks itself alive.

On Education and knowledge

University is such a waste of time in the end... It’s mindblowing. What is it but a mere process of going through specific motions - learning exactly what you are told to learn and apply that granted knowledge in a very specific manner and no other unless you want to be failed - to get a piece of paper at the end of it that is supposed to tell the world how 'clever' you are?...

In a way, it does prepare you well to play by society’s rules to the letter even when you think you’re rebelling. It’s a really ‘good’ form of higher conditioning that ensures even the more intelligent section of the population is controlled, too.

Wouldn't it be enough for most youngsters to get a basic form of education that includes learning how to read, write and basic maths? Once one possesses those basic skills, the mind can start growing and expending in its own unique ways, instead of being conditioned to be just another mouthpiece for the world's blind. Beyond those basic skills... There is a fine line between brain stuffing and conditioning, especially taking into account that the world’s settings have been changed so much that what is now valued is everything that is in fact useless, if not downright harmful to the mind. We are all required to possess useless skills, these days - more so than ever before.

When I think back on my own education, it was all so stiff and imposed to the letter... By age 15 I knew I would never want to study anything scientific, for instance, because of that mental block I had, yet I was forced to carry on in that field to an extent regardless. They couldn’t just allow different minds to learn and strive on the things that work best for them. They have to put you through the same motions as everyone else and what is that but a step in the direction of rationalizing people? Yes, that's right, rationalizing people and their mind just as they do it with businesses.

I hate that the notion of knowledge has been turned into yet another commodity - one people need to sell themselves to others. The worst part is that only specific categories of knowledge are respected or given value.

It’s all so stupid, and there just isn’t an escape in sight. I’m trapped in a very silly world that has most of its priorities backward and I’m expected to play the game? You’ve got to be kidding me, surely.

I just want to explode in a trillion of blinding colours and be free.