10 Mar My Keyboard Farted Insanity
Below is what happens when I just write. Barely thinking about it I let my fingers play the keys how and where they wanted for ten minutes. Out came a jumbled play of thoughts which flow through my mind fairly regularly. Although some of it might seem depressing or on the verge of insanity, there are a few valid points sprinkled among the ramblings of a no-one. I almost did not post it because it borders on embarrassing, but then I thought “Fuck it, why not?”
And besides, sometimes a thought is just a thought, and there need not be any more to it than that.
Whoooa. Calm down there sunshine with your emotional tirades and tar brush statements. Time for someone to get off the stop smoking pills and jump back into reality methinks. You wanna talk about sanity and insanity? You want to discuss the virtues of being one way over another? Do you want to suggest that you know the answers that so many others are somehow missing?
No, not really, mainly because I don’t know the answers, not all of them anyway. I don’t know what makes one man or woman do one thing and another do the opposite. Sure I can sit and judge, I can even guess a lot of the time what makes you tick. Unfortunately that doesn’t mean I know everything and everyone. I barely know myself. So what gives me the right to make statements, to judge things and people?
Well really I have no more right than anyone else to do so. But everyone does. Everyone judges. Most of the time though we just don’t say it out loud. A lot of the time we are glad we didn’t because often our minds change from one day to the next and our judgments along with them.
We are schizo most of us, all of us really. Some are a lot more schizo than others which means we can stick ’em in a box and let the world know who they are. Then everyone can breathe a sigh of relief and say “Those people over there are crazy, el hombre es loco.” While the rest of us walk around thinking we just have slight emotional issues.
Then you crack or get angry for no reason or do something which you think is out of the ordinary and start questioning why you are the way you are. Why you can’t be like other people and just be happy with this or that. You start to think you’re unique and that somehow you stand out from the rest of the world. You tell yourself that this is a terrible thing, that you don’t want to feel this way or that. But perhaps underneath a part of you is going “Wow I really am unique. I’m not just another person who will live and die the same way billions have done before me.”
Sorry to say though that all people have an innate feeling that they are unique, yet no one is. We are clones, clones with small variations which make us thin, fat, short, tall, pretty, ugly, smart, stupid, angry, happy, jealous or care-free. Small variations which generally amount to little or no difference at all.
As long as the cogs keep turning and we keep breeding we have done the part laid out for us by evolution and the will of life to exist. Anything more is repetition of values and ideas. A first for you has been done a million times over by others. Facebook is just a village meeting on the internet. Space travel is a horse and cart that leaves Earth. Rinse, repeat. Such is our lot in life.
Insanity is what people are, we cover it with a thin veil which makes sense so that our existence can continue. Most of what we do outside of our instincts does not make sense. We have evolved to live a certain way and now we misinterpret those needs and wants to fit with the excess of the modern world. We need things we don’t need and crave things which are bad for us. Most of what we eat is unnecessary but we have taken our biological desire for energy to unhealthy levels. Most of what we do, feel and think is unnecessary to survive. Even then, as long as we survive long enough to pump out a little me, we have still done our jobs.
We play in the muck and the mire of existence. Lizards with toys waiting for the big thing that will never come. Ignoring the big thing that comes for everyone. We are walking, talking sacks of cells which almost never stop to question the thoughts which we lay down through instinct and desire. If we really thought about it, if we really accepted the thing that life is and wanted to live the best way we could, feel the best feelings available to us. Then life would be every man and woman sitting under a shady tree deep in meditation until death became us. At least that is my “unique” perspective on things.