So part of taking responsibility for
the world is a propensity to redefine everything you do in the
context of a larger picture. If I eat shitty food, it’s not that
I’m drunk and it’s delicious, I’m letting everyone know that
someone under these circumstances is “good” or justified in
indulging in a horrible for you meal for any number of potentially
incoherent reasons. If I flirt, I’m shouting the world that someone
of my level of attractiveness is dignifying the person on the other
end as a viable fuck-around partner or at the very least a being
well-enough to converse and spend time with. It’s like you’re
given a stamp that, for people who are respectful of stamps, when you
use it it’s an all guiding light to what “matters” or is
“relevant” to your position in life.
The ability to step back and
characterize everything as old hat or part of a larger system is
inescapable. I can’t go to the bars and see people having a good
time. I can’t even judge them as I’d like. They are all ignoring
the years before them when they’re parents said the same things and
felt, if not still feel, the anxiety and societal pressures to behave
a certain way to snag a mate whether it’s for the night or long
enough to have kids with. At the end, it’s a game and there are
rules you’re either savvy to or conflicted by.
I have a hard time considering myself.
I don’t know if I’m smart, or just have spent too much time in a
certain kind of mind frame or have maybe just been “damaged” in a
way that isn’t really quantified until something goes significantly
wrong. My disregard isn’t so much practice as it is inevitable. I
don’t’ know how else to view people as anything but the sea of
endless self-perpetuating problems that go above and beyond in ways
to disappoint and seemingly doom the kind of world I’d like to see
in the future. It’s not enough for me to consider a “nice”
person. I’m not compelled by anecdotes and allegiances. I have no
moral code that puts humanity or its life force at the top of some
superficial pyramid. You just behave a certain way and it either
works or doesn’t for what seems to be necessary for a healthy
future.
I’m a product of habit. If and when I
get everything I want in the future, I understand that it will be
because I’m not willing to give up. I don’t take failure as
failure. I learn and adapt and try to apply what I’ve learned to
the next situation. When that’s the case, it’s practically
inevitable that when x under y conditions will get to some form of z.
But it’s always a game. It’s always my agenda verses how the
world is “actually” run. The weirdest thing is that I don’t
think I have anything real to gain. I don’t think there is anything
to win beyond the personal satisfaction of “I told you so.”
I fundamentally don’t believe in the
human species. If I did, I might find myself respecting or even
marginally liking the majority. I hate how slow we are, how scared we
are, and how impossibly closed minded we are to learning new things
or changing in light of evidence. I see us as ridiculously too quick
to get numb and not care about the things that have even managed to
arrive at our doorstep. So when I get on my “mission” to change
culture. When I want to be surrounded by people of the same mindset
and capabilities that you could interchange the jobs or
responsibilities in life and everything would run smooth regardless,
I know it’s still a fool’s errand.
I’m shooting for the opportunity to
live in a microcosm of the kind of world that I think will sustain
itself longest. It can’t last forever. Every ideal I espouse will
have been conjured up before I got around to thinking of it. Special
sciences will have already existed to give me the how and why I
should structure something one way over another. To try and squeeze
out what is quintessentially “me” will be the burden of those
choosing to get involved. Whether it’s the “best” or “most
right” will be always utterly under question given the ever
changing times or circumstances.
I just find myself judging everything,
all the fucking time. I don’t see a sense of caring or
understanding. I don’t see a burden. I don’t feel your
obligation. I don’t believe you are anything but your day to day
struggle to grasp your pathetic life quandaries that have been more
resolved by history than the question of who wrote the diary of Anne
Frank. I’m not hopeful. I’m not optimistic. I do things out of
scorn and spite for what’s taken for granted.
I don’t know how to explain how
motivated I am to do so much in utter spite of itself. I do not
believe in anything. I only know my effort. I only know what I’ve
done or what I’m seemingly capable of. I have no faith. I have no
hope. I have nothing to suggest that I have any reason to live other
than my perpetual decision to give myself reasons to. If I get
everything I want in life, it will still all be a game, a joke in
front of the bigger screen telling a truer story. And it’s so
ridiculously weird to think about.
With every last breath I have to refute
sounding like an angst ridden teenager, I don’t know how to express
how alone I feel. I can read the philosophers. I can chat with the
smart people. I can derive endless excuses and explanations for how
and where I’m coming from that would seemingly align with resolute
and dignified positions that came well before I ever got to them, but
none of them are the nail on the head. I still manage to find a level
of isolation that I wish just stemmed from some egocentric or
pretentious place. I wish it was easy to be called naïve. I wish I
wasn’t so sure of the consequences.
I’m not allowed to “give up.” And
what does that even mean in the context of not having a belief in
what you’re doing in the first place? I understand what can result;
I don’t have some moral high ground or infinitely inaccessible
reason for its establishment other than what it looks like juxtaposed
to what’s happening currently. Take that derivative anti-relativist
morality.
As long as I care “in spite” there
will be a problem. As long as I do things out of desperation or
exhaustion, the fundamental issues with society I can be assured are
not being addressed. I don’t know how to let go of the hatred. I
don’t know how to justify letting things “be.” I don’t know
how to pretend for someone’s own good. And I definitely have no
fucking clue how to go about tackling problems that no one knows how
to fucking talk about. Suppose I’ll just stick to this little
corner and keep shouting into the wind.
