Monday, January 9, 2012

Entry 1: Rebirth


Entry 1: Rebirth (Dated: 1/9/2012)
Dear Reader, I couldn’t care less if you read this or not. I just won’t make the same mistake I made before and hide myself or my thoughts, qualities and flaws. So if you feel like reading, read. If you feel like talking, talk. But just know, if you’ve indeed read this far, that this is for me, clichés and all.
I begin this, my collection of philosophical diatribes, with a reflection. It’s become clear to me today that the six years of life experience since my last reflection have made me considerably more foolish, consistently less inspired, and incalculably less retrospective. This all revolves around a journal. A journal I found tucked away amongst the stack of endless books I will never read again, in a room that is no longer mine, from a life long ago. Yesterday. Not  a meaningless bullshit diary account of my daily life, but a period of time in my life during which I actually gave thought to the world – to humanity – to myself, and allowed these thoughts to be presented in words. What is more compelling, and shaming really, is I think I was actually more wise as a 17 year old than I am now.
Like a 60 year old looking back on life, I find myself lacking from what I had once aspired to be even six years ago, with fallacies in every aspect of myself, with one exception: my mind, after everything, has brought me back to this place. Sounds menial and meaningless, but it means those thoughts, and that person, has not yet died. A little sanctum of inner thought, where everything doesn’t have to make sense, but a place where I can try to make sense of everything. It’s a place where I derive my identity and now the place where I will establish myself, my way of life, and everything else.
                Egocentric? Sure. Narcissistic? Possibly, I do like hearing myself talk. What the shit I will write, whether it’s clever, personal, philosophical, or whatever, I really don’t know. But let’s just say fuck it, take it for what it is and will become, and get on with it. Welcome to my brain.
                So in the spirit of kicking things off, I actually will post an updated and slightly edited version of the first collection of words crapped onto a page that gave birth to this mini-era of what might pass for intellectuality. It is, however, a true story and the reason I am what I am today. Goals, profession, everything.
So here it is, with as little editing as I can do:
Entry 0: Death and Reconciliation (Dated: January or February, 2006)
           On a recent evening, I had just begun to shower and was highly anticipating the ridiculous daydream that would fill my mind. Would I be a world-class musician today or James Bond? My mind dashed through a great many scenarios: of epic, unrealistic battle scenes (with me as the victor, of course) and thoughts of world fame. Only the normal thoughts and fantasy dreams any person might conceive of.  But amidst all these feelings of grandeur, a thought grew ever greater in the back of my mind; one with which I had never wrestled. It grew so great, so ominous, that I could no longer avoid it, like an elephant in your living room. The Truth of Death was upon me. What had previously been a fantastical notion had become the end to all my existence. And I cannot fight it.
                I wrestled and still wrestle with the concept of death. The reality of it forces my legs into submission, bending my knees to the ground, while my stomach lurches miles from where it should be. The idea that at some point, my brain will cease to function worries me and sends me into a state of uncontrollable fear (ironically contrasted with my all-too-common day dreams of intense danger). I knew not how to fight such an enemy and finally (momentarily) accepted it as Fate; but my soul worked to fight the feeling of my pre-determined end. After absorbing the initial shock of reality, my mind began to wander past death and rested on the world as a whole. Every human, (and not to be egocentric) myself especially, is insignificant in the scale of the world. My life, as it stands, is worth nothing. I have achieved nothing in my life, and I’m already (hopefully less) a quarter the way through.
Then a secondary notion spawned in my head. What would I like to do such that I might die peacefully? What can I do, during my life, which will placate my soul? This topic took me to subjects far and wide; however, each path of thought brought me back to a common theme: While there is injustice in this world, and there always will be, the given equilibrium of the world is currently being shattered. This imbalance goes beyond poverty, death, and disease; these are all commonplace and will sadly always parasitically coexist as long as there is life. There appears to be an essential NEW corruption in the very fabric of humanity now. It is a desire that now surpasses everything and spreads like an incurable infection. It’s a desire for extreme luxury and decadence. It’s a desire for desire itself. While the craving for surfeit is inherent by humans, only recently has it worked its way into the very fabric of every society, becoming commonplace for most people – even defining societies, cities, and nations. This corruption of humanity specifically has led to every environmental, political, and social distress in the world today. Wars are fought over resources and senseless pride while countless thoughtlessly die. Can you justify a war that you’re not fighting? Can you fight a war that you can’t justify to yourself? I guess that’s not how it works anymore. Most people wouldn’t even know there was a war if no one mentioned it. So what’s my point? Our wars are nothing but the result of this corruption. It’s the reason you wouldn’t move to Africa. The world suffers as a whole from the result of the excessive greed of the few.
                My soul has become restless. What can I do? I do not know. Where do I start? My own community, people will say, but that’s futile; my community needs too much work. How do I start? I think by getting myself fully educated first so that I can contend with whatever I am presented with in my lifetime. A sense of moral obligation resounds through my body upon the thought of injustice. I feel I may have just had an epiphany. My perspective on the world has been smashed, re-pieced, smashed again, and now I’m able to rebuild it the way I should be seeing it. Change in mind means change in action, and I intend to do so. I know it’s impossible to absolve the world of its problems, but there are very few people in this age who are willing to dedicate themselves to such a cause.
                One human cannot break this. But one human can make a dent, and after many people have dented the foundation, the structure will crumble and be rebuilt, hopefully, in a better manner. I finally picked myself off the ground when I finally found my answer. I will die happy if I can even attempt to make a dent. I wish to use every ounce of strength and will that I possess to contribute to this cause. If I know that I’ve done everything possible within my power in every way, I think I will die happy. I don’t know how, but I need to help the world.
Giving the ambiguity of much the writing its due, I still find it to be true enough. Hope you enjoyed it.

P.s. The elephant thing reminded me of this picture, hah: