November 28, 2017
"I'm so despondent about everything. Everything I try goes totally wrong.
There's no escape from this hole here. I feel drained.
So far, I still haven't found a real purpose in life.
Sometimes, I'm afraid to get out of bed in the morning.
There's nothing to get up for."
- Joseph Goebbels
what is it that you're fighting for? there must be some meaning or purpose behind
why you continue to exist. perhaps you ceased to make the conscious decision to live
(or never deliberated on it to begin with), so you're now doomed to tread through
life as an automaton with your mind half-empty.
without returning to first principles, the end of your life will be marked by
the result of all of your actions being even less than the sum thereof.
the gnostics of ancient history were on to something. this material universe is
an incredibly oppressive death trap. you think you've found fulfillment and
satisfaction only to have it slip away from you. heroin doesn't work longer than
its half-life in your bloodstream; chemical nirvana will vanish in the same fashion
as anything else, and you're left frantically hustling to get some more. but it's
interesting that such a substance exists in this world, as it gets to the heart
of what we're talking about here. the whole essence of opium and its derivatives
could be best described as an act of divorce from the pain of reality and how
seemingly cruel and pointless it is (at least, to those who feel themselves in such pain).
the image of a field of poppies in bloom on a warm, sunny day could not be more fitting
for the sensation it provides. it truly feels like how you should feel at all times.
when you're on smack, you're bypassing the standard process of working for your
peace of mind; of pouring your blood, sweat, and tears into whatever it is you're
clamoring for. it's a cheat code for achieving nirvana, at least temporarily.
at the end of the day, it just becomes the same as anything else. you have to work
for your smack. you have to work for your relationships. you have to work for your
wages. you have to work to live. there's always a price to pay for everything.
that's right. living itself is a job. you're being put (or putting yourself) through
tasks that are unbounded in their pointlessness and stupidity. the sadistic teacher God
assigns you work that is so disconnected from your ultimate goal. some of us
will do the work regardless so that we can move on to the next assignment. others will
defiantly raise their middle finger to the world and its constraining parameters.
"fuck you, i'm not going to waste my time with your bullshit," you say? let's take away
your material comforts and priviliges. now you can live life as Diogenes did.
does that frighten you into submission? great, now you can continue into your retirement
years building a ghost vehicle to get you where you've always wanted, only to find
that once you try to sit in the driver's seat, your ass simply hits the ground. the
horrified look on your face is priceless.
either option will just leave you high and dry, so really the solution lies in
redefining the problem (in other words, it's a Kobayashi Maru). the whole point
of it all was to get you to go through the process, at the end of which you finally
realize that there was nothing to fight for in the first place. this is true nirvana.
now you can die knowing you will return to the source which dispatched you.
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