Another Midnight Day

Looks like it’s set to rain all day... The cover of grey clouds is weighing on the city.

I don’t know why I’m surprised anymore when I stumble across stuff on the internet. Like, I don’t know, learning that rice has been genetically modified with human genes (2007 Daily Mail article). It’s not like I’d never heard of GM food, is it?... I just never imagined they would go so far as adding HUMAN genes to food. The sorcerers behind that - I mean scientists... - like to say they’ve discovered a way to cure children’s basic diseases in third world countries by adding stuff in the rice. Shame they don’t bother ensuring clean water first in those countries... But if they did just that, they would be sorting out the source of most diseases, so where would the profit be?




There had been talks before of how they could now add vitamins, even vaccines straight into your tomatoes, I’ll have you know. Where does it stop? Can you even hope to escape the current dictat?

Where is the so-called freedom when you can’t even choose what you put in your mouth?

What are we but human recycling bins in the end?

It seems that all is well as long as there is no immediate effect to link their mojo to sickness. The trouble with such insane tempering with nature itself is the long TERM effects, but when you are surrounded by chemicals, there is little hope of finding the root cause of disease caused by the tempering.

Funny how it’s always the same kind of disorders that prevails in western societies, eh? More and more children are born with eczema or will develop the condition, and the number of women suffering from hormonal imbalance that can link to infertility keeps growing. Perhaps mum is right after all, when she jokingly says that we were the dinosaurs. Aren’t we changing into freaks of nature, after all?

The deadly cocktail of food tempering coupled with whatever they put in those vaccines...
It wasn’t enough to inject cattle with hormones... No... Not enough. Not bad enough, not enough profit.


How dare I even protest? Look, they’d say; look what we gave to you, ungrateful little sod! Look at the pretty city, the supermarkets and leisure we’ve created for you! All that comfort... Your ancestors were either enslaved or they lived in shacks, starving. Now look! Look! How dare you even question that today’s way of life isn’t better?

I can’t watch programs on slaughter houses. I can’t watch, let alone think too much about the line of cattle going for the kill one after the other because it reminds me of our humanity, except they made the landscape prettier for us to an extent. They break sheep’s legs when the beasts refuse to comply and move up along the chain that leads them to their death, but they can’t do that with humans - not in such an obvious fashion. So they break our legs, and they eventually break our necks through illusions, because all that really separates us from cattle is the ability to reason. The latter forces our butchers to be a little craftier when it comes to placing us on the line that will lead us to death. All for what?

ALL FOR WHAT? I don’t know anymore... Is it really all for profit? Is money that big a deal, to the point of turning people into pure evil? Where does the poison come from? Who brought it to us? Such a waste... A waste of life. The real genocide is that of the mind. Once you’ve killed the spirit, I can’t see what’s left to save.

Life is wasted, flushed down the drain, but most people understand only things like ‘waste of time’, or ‘waste of money’, or ‘waste of energy’... What does it mean when you say ‘waste of life’, huh? It is, once again, the total sum of all that is humanly wasted. My own life, and probably yours, is a distorted version of what it ought to have been... At this point I wouldn’t know how else to put it. Look beyond the veil of illusions and the comfort that numbs the mind.

Poisoned on one side, told how special we are on the other... If that’s not perversion at its extreme, I don’t know what is. It serves its purpose, though. We end up utterly baffled, confused. "But look at what they gave us on that side, look at how they try to save lives, how they try to perfect our comfort - they even gave us HD tv, mate... Surely they can’t be hurting us from the other side. It doesn’t make sense."

There, my point exactly: it doesn’t make sense. That’s the goal.

On the sense of Purpose

I like to imagine sometimes that whatever bad happens, there must be a bigger picture somewhere, and there must be something good to draw out of it. I even like to think of hardship as a helpful tool to grow as a person, or that it is one of life’s tests... That there is a reason behind everything that happens, if only we can recognise what it is, which means taking the time to understand every face of a situation.

Well, since about last night, I’ve never doubted such a theory more. It almost makes more sense to think we’re all random, just as this world is despite its inherent natural balance, and it just happens that most people are rotten, and you just have to live with it or drown. You drown, you die, end of. There’s nothing more to it, and everything that seems to make sense is part of human make-belief - the need to place a meaning on things for ourselves to make the randomness of life more bearable.

So the reason we invented work, for instance, is to give ourselves the shadow of some purpose in life, really, so we have something to do while alive. If we didn’t, then we’d just get bored, I suppose. Boredom can easily lead to depression, and most people would just end up killing themselves, one way or another. Without purpose, a thinking beast becomes a time bomb. There’s no telling when or how it’ll blow. It could wipe itself out, or it could take others down as well. And all that because of a lack of purpose, whose impact on us is named depression.

When I was little, my main purpose in life was simple, albeit impossible to achieve, but then kids tend to have great dreams that are only dashed later down the line. I lived to escape into a fantasy world. Failing this, I could see myself becoming an ‘actress’, so I would keep as close to the fantasy illusion as possible, you see. Life happened, of course, and with it waltzed in a set of unpredictable changes in circumstances. I didn’t get to die when I realised I would never escape reality, so for a long while I lost all sense of purpose. I got depressed. Surprise, surprise.

Then the writing kicked in, and I found myself a new purpose in life that allowed me to cope better with this reality for a while. If I didn’t have that delusion of a purpose in mind, then what would be the point in anything? This is a very serious issue, because it questions the core of what we are, as a species in this world, and it digs into the heart of the mind.

Thinking and reason coupled with the ability to feel emotions leads to the intrinsic need for a sense of purpose. This begs the question: are we doomed to live forever in a prison of delusions?

If you need to convince yourself that what you do fills a purpose in life, then it is a delusion, but only if the premise entails that we are all here by chance, down a chain of very natural events. The whole Darwin Theory, to put it simply, here.

I have to meet Tom for some political meeting- a socialist one. I’m open to ideas but I’m lazy. And I’m far too wary of politics feel even remotely excited. Tom, on the other hand, is overtly dedicated and holds strong views. He’s a doer. I’m more of a thinker who thinks too much and over-analyses the most trivial things. Where I could spend eternity pondering, he would be doing something. Neither quality is self-sufficient or intrinsically good in itself. It would be the merging of both into one person that would allow the latter to achieve better results. A good balance of structured thinking combined with the energy and strive of morphing thoughts into concrete actions. The ultimate well-rounded individual with the key to greatness for a society. Of course there are such people in the world, I have no doubt about that. What often lacks is something that could almost be compared to the idea of soul to a person: a dash of good will or profound integrity. Now if one was to present all three qualities -logics, strive and good will- we would have on our hands the true politician. Life is such that the very first quality to wither in its bud is integrity and we’re left with a strive turning into ambition and logics, well, comes and goes like the wind. Knowing this, how could I not be disappointed from the start?

I love early mornings, especially at dawn, when the fine line between darkness and renewed light emerges beyond the ocean of bricks and iron. There’s simply such a wealth of colours and subtle gradations that it seems to swell and enflame my heart at once. But it never lasts long and before you know it, at the mere blink of an eye, daylight suddenly takes over.

Now aged 25, I must say that the odds are rather stacked against me. I’ve grown into my own person- whatever that means, really- with such fierce independence and rejection of social expectations that I don’t see how I could ever change. The outlook I have on life might not be that different from other people, even though it is tempting to assume it is, but it has a stronger effect on me, on the way I feel or react to the things I see or think that I can see. 

Whereas the mind fights relentlessly toward the glimmer of light and knowledge the person slowly dies away, torn between the realms of raison and folly. Just as a body will decay, so will what I can only define as the soul for lack of better words to refer to that feeling part of the person. Perhaps, as you grow older, so does that part as though it were slowly pulled away from the body, dispersed in an unfathomable Netherworld. How funny to think that what really makes a person is in fact far removed from reality. If one was to truly define a living thing in particular, according to the form it remains as for the longest period of time, then we would have to talk in terms of nothingness and memories where the latter represents the highest state of existence. Taking the notion of time as a major factor in the attempt to define what existence is or represents, what the true substance of a person is in time, then it is nothing or a mere memory. Thus in the great temporal spectrum people are more often than not non-existent for they spend more time as nothing or mere memories than they do alive and concrete.

Time is a factor in our notion of reality. Reality is an abstract notion prone to the whims of ever-passing time. We, as people, don’t give or shape reality, time does. Only such an infinite spectrum can give the notion of reality consistancy by being the active element, the steady running line from point A (as far back as possible) to point B (as far as that line can run). On the other hand people are merely passive vectors scattered along that line and therefore they can only have glimpses of such reality which they do not create by existing for it would keep changing as there’re people.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, honestly. It seems to make sense in my head and yet the proper words fail me. You can understand a lot of things by instinct but only the process of learning can morphe intrinsec understanding or knowledge into concrete reasoning using the proper words.