It’s my mission to one day stop using words and actually start feeling the meaning behind them. I want to appreciate the blood, sweat, and tears expended over the centuries articulating the conceptual devices that every new generation has inherited. Words are the tools with which we put ourselves to life. We ascribe labels to moving figments of matter and systematize states of affairs into workable categories in order to transform the mysteries of the world into a well-ordered model by which we can make our lives more manageable. The broader human enterprise is to chart out the internal and external universes of being and use the accumulated knowledge as a stepping stone to elevate the individual to a more efficacious dimension of maneuvering. People can cope better with life’s challenges with more awareness across different elements. With a broader collective understanding we experience the world with a greater fullness and magnify our potential resonance in the universe. Meanwhile the conversation rolls on in a concerted quest for perfection trying to illuminate the nature of our circumstances and how we ought to choreograph ourselves to make the best of them.
I sometimes like to sit up in an elevated position of the library and gaze down on the people in red square as they all in sorting out the symbolic baggage of the ages and the shifting moods of the day concentrate on putting themselves to use in some manner. I personally study psychology...why? I think cuz I’m fascinated with people. Psychology is the systematic means of positing theories, making observations, and discovering whatever it is people care about and investigating how it is they cope with the presses of the day. Sounds interesting doesn’t it? But at the same time I often wonder if im studying psychology only to gain some objective leverage over others. I mean what is psychology really but an effort to generate a tidy catalog of human behaviors such that we can predict every event that will ever happen to us. Is it merely an avenue to acquire a God’s-eye view of my anxiety-ridden relationships?
Im talking some stupid shit now. But anyone who ever knew what was good for him was out to claim resources. With experience, wit, power and courage we grow more flexible in trafficking the gray fields of reality. And when all the complex parts of the self are well synchronized we can meet the world thoughtfully and with direct passion, not letting the fragmented analytic worries we have paralyze us when we face the impending moment.
We are all material containers of blurred memories, beliefs, and states of mind converging into nebulous whirlpools of conscious space masquerading as persons having likes and dislikes. Yet...however honest we are with ourselves the same incessant yearning for something more will strike us deep inside the skull. Happiness is in achieving whatever standards we set for ourselves...so if that be the case let those standards be our own...not those of Nike, not those of Myspace, nor those of Rolling Stone. (Which by the way sucks pretty badly nowadays.) Recently I derive my confidence and excitement through expressing myself in new ways...I am struck flat in amazement when I reflect on some of the things people have said so far. How did Nietzsche think the things he did? Can you imagine the intensity of his consciousness? What was it like for him to walk the streets among the general public? No wonder people think he intentionally gave himself syphillis. Nevertheless, all the words that have ever been said, whether they were judged to be enlightening, vulgar, or plain stupid, constitute a semantic empire of intricate dimension...I’m just happy to have a few words of my own to pitch into the fray.