Discretionary Disclaimer to Follow (Or Not)

Some people write for audience, some for a job, others for pleasure.

I write for myself and because it's therapeutic for me. I don't need necessarily need many readers or subscribers and thus I don't cater to an "audience." If what you think of my blog is disconcerting or offensive (because you may think it's about you, someone you know, what have you may) you can talk to me about it. If you think it's shitty because of it, then go do something else. If I write something that doesn't paint someone in a good light, it was done with clear intentions.

Shitty is your opinion. It isn't mine.

Do Yourself A Favor

Stop your crying this instant. No one out in the real world will be there to comfort you, and I am certainly not here to listen to your story and say: "There, there, everything will be okay." So I'll have none of that.

I don't care about your sadness because you shouldn't be sad. And I know this, I know how serious and I know how important it is. You might not know what you're going to do about it, or how you're going to cope about it, today but realize that at the end of the day, everyone is going through the same thing. All of us go through it.

For the past month, I've been down and out. So have other people. People get sad over some stupid things. Like when some broad or bloke that knows he or she loves them, but doesn't love back. She or he may think of their love only as an awkward phase that will pass, but still would like to be best friends. Some people might be failures in the eyes of their parents. Some might not even have parents.

I haven't held a dying man in my arms or anything serious like that, but the principle is all the same. People go through adversity every day of their lives, and that's what life is. So go make a toast to your life, and be thankful that you're still alive. And make a toast to those who aren't, to those who couldn't enjoy another sunrise or sunset like you can. 

You go through shit day in and day out, and you live through it. I am a survivor. You are a survivor. This world cannot beat you. This world cannot destroy you.

There is no shame in defeat as long as the spirit is not conquered. So don't give up. You are a good, decent person who is, or will, be in hard times. What you deserve is somebody. You deserve a hug, you deserve a kiss at night. You deserve a friend, and you deserve a friend that loves you just as the same way you love them back. Not one of those awkward "I still like you but not enough to make a relationship, so I'll call you up whenever the 'other' guy [or girl] doesn't call." That's bullshit. You deserve better, and you'll get better. You deserve a true, loving friend. Don't ever think differently. 

Reality

What am I doing here? So far, all I've done is sit around and live without any considerable feelings. Indifferent, in a way, to everything around me. I don't have my heart set in things I do anymore, and I don't know why. As a kid, I've always had a wonder and a fascination with everything around me, from the winds to the trees. Twelve years later, look at me now: sitting with legs crossed, my face propped up by my hand, apathetic eyes staring off into the distant past.

But what do I know? Life's just begun. The day's as light as the brightest dream, and time's is as fast as the slowest stream. Or so they say.

Surely I have people I love, and some more than others. I think it's great to have some things to hold you to the ground, to keep you on this earth, to keep you reminded of who you are. But we don't get everything we wish for, or for that matter, most things we wish for. So why is there all of this bullshit? Smokescreens to hide the real raw emotions, and for what? Because you're scared? Tell me who isn't scared, and I'll tell you that he/she is a liar. Tough luck. Everyone is scared, but it's not about how unafraid you are of the future. It's how much you're willing to tough it out.

Nobody is going to hit as hard as life; you, me, anybody. It's not about how hard we can fight back, it's about how much we can persevere. It's about how long we can stay on our feet and keep moving. And if you're scared of what will happen in the future, then why are you living now?

Think about this: how can there be a thing as a "perfect couple"? Or "perfect love"? Or "true romance"? To tell you the truth, there isn't anything that is perfect. Couples go through hardship like anyone else, and the ones that stay together are the ones that don't let adversity get to them. That's what truly matters in the end: the willingness to sacrifice for the benefit of the other person, because you truly love him/her.

That's what being real is.

Richard Feynman - My Hero

God was invented to explain mystery. God is always invented to explain those things that you do not understand. Now, when you finally discover how something works, you get some laws which you're taking away from God; you don't need him anymore. 


But you need him for the other mysteries. 


So therefore you leave him to create the universe because we haven't figured that out yet; you need him for understanding those things which you don't believe the laws will explain, such as consciousness, or why you only live to a certain length of time — life and death — stuff like that. 


God is always associated with those things that you do not understand. Therefore I don't think that the laws can be considered to be like God because they have been figured out.

My Translucent Mind

Why are things the way they are, and why am I feeling the way I do right now? Who is to tell what will be alright and what the right decisions are? Who is to say anything but otherwise?

Some people are happy, some people are sad. Some people are content, some people are mad. Some people love and some people hate.

Where am I on that spectrum of opposite feelings? More to the negative than to the positive, but that's just to say the least. Everything's been melancholy and nothing has gone great. I didn't ask things to go great. I merely hoped things would go well, being conservative with my expectations only because they never turn out the way I would want them to. And with that expectation, has everything gone "well"? Yes and no. Yes in the sense that nothing essentially has gone wrong but no as in nothing essentially has gone right. I have not been put in scorn by people I know and associate with, but I have not been accepted in the way I would want to be accepted by the people or persons that I want acceptance from. I shouldn't even ask to be accepted. What kind of person am I? Where is my dignity? Where is my pride?

To me, those feelings, those people, those thoughts, are like a magic spell that opens an old door, a door that should stay closed.

I ask this of you: have you heard of this story before?

There was once a man that went on a safari. He injures his leg during a hunt. He's in the middle of the savanna with no means to treat the wound. The leg rots and death approaches. At the last minute, he's picked up by an airplane. He looks down and sees a land of pure white below him; glistening in the light is the summit of a snow-capped mountain. The mountain is Kilimanjaro. As the man gazes down, he feels the life flowing out of him and thinks, "That's where I was headed." He dies soon after.

I hate stories like that.  Men only think about their past right before their death, as if they were searching frantically for proof that they were alive.

Reason exists in many forms and expression, but there isn't any to search for it as a means to justify your existance, or to myself, my existance. There doesn't need to be any contemplation for why something happened. It's all right there, right in front of your face. You are only blinded by your ambition because you think you have some valued existance in this life, and by doing so you miss the big picture.

There doesn't need to be a reason for death, sadness, anger, happiness, or love. Especially love. Because these ideas, these things, are the ones that reveal themselves to you. The reason is all there, the reason is all in yourself.

When I think about you, I think of this:
Everything has a beginning and an end. Life is just a cycle of starts and stops. There are ends we don't desire, but they're inevitable. We have to face them. That's what being human is all about. Simply put: the past is the past and the future is the future. A man is a man and a woman is a woman. The present is the present. I am who I am and you are who you are. That's all there is to it. Do we really matter? Do I matter to you as much as you matter to me? And do you really matter to me as much as I matter to you?

Or do we just think it does?

I hate being sentimental.

Loveless Rationale

I met a girl once.

She wasn't one of those typical girls. She was the ones that you would find yourself ocassionally glancing over in her direction, even when you didn't mean to. The ones that will push you away, because of the comfortable unfamiliar feelings you feel around her, but always made you come around because being closer meant more than being proud, or being unapologetically stubborn.

I would confide a secret in myself that this is some triteful little thing, but I knew I wasn't telling myself the whole truth, only because I didn't know what I was looking for. And as natural as things came, they left with the same manner. I stopped looking, I stopped believing, and I stopped feeling. I thought that was a simple answer to a multi-layered question. I knew she would be around, but I believed that this kind of demeanor would serve both of us a better purpose. That's what I used to believe back then, anyways. As things started to change, and as time progressed forth, this fragile eggshell belief didn't hold stable to the changing circumstances. Why was I wrong? I was wrong because I tried to falsely rationalize myself into accepting in a delusion that was easy to believe. It would have been easy to just believe that things are as they are because some outside force made it so, but it's nothing to accept the conventional way of thinking.

I am no discoverer, I am no conqueror, I am no explorer, and I am no thinker. I am just complex as I make myself to be and to be as simple as such. What has been felt and experienced again and again was unexplainable, even to myself.

That was a share of thoughts I had recently and it goes without saying that it reflects on some aspects of my life. What has been written might not make sense but it's what I could salvage from my memory of my analysis of my past hopes and dreams, call it what you may. It's funny really. I make a big talk about this but in the end, what has been accomplished? Who knows. I certainly don't.

There's no dignified way of being apathetic or being stubborn, so let's go forth together. It's time for this sail to seek new wind, and to discover what lies beyond this cove of everything beautiful.

I'll be where I always have been.

Carl Sagan's Pale Blue Dot

One of these spacecraft, a two spacecraft mission, was called Voyager and in 1989 after its brilliantly successful explorations of the Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune system, it became possible to do something I had wanted to do from the very beginning of that mission and that is to turn the cameras around and look back from beyond the outer most planet at our world. We succeeded in doing this and the image that resulted was of a single pale blue dot momentarily in a sunbeam. 

That's here. That's home. 
That's us. 


On it, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever lived, lived out their lives. 


The aggregate of all our joys and sufferings, thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilizations, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every hopeful child, every mother and father, every inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species, lived there on a mote of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.

The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. 


Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. 


Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. 


Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity -- in all this vastness -- there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. It is up to us. 


It's been said that astronomy is a humbling, and I might add, a character-building experience. To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.

It's not that I don't care...

but it's that I don't mind. I don't mind what you believe, I don't mind what or who you worship, and I don't mind what principles you follow. I don't mind that you believe a God or gods created you, and gave you a purpose. I don't mind that you think an omniscient and omnipotent creator was the reason why you got your "perfect" boyfriend/girlfriend or social status or job or anything of value. I don't mind it just as long as you are yourself, and stay true to everything that you believe in. After all, you're not going to live forever.

I care, I just don't mind.