Friday, March 30, 2018

What other being


The idea of "changing the world" has become a cruel joke recently. I don't know what to make of it. Every one who claimed they can "cure" people all carry that hubris, as they said. It's true.

I always return to the point that... who am I to take charge of other people's well-being?

It was no less true when we all had less. We may save a life if we want to, but do keep in mind that, their lives are not ours to save. Of course, more often than not, you will find people who want to be helped, who want to be saved. They will not turn down cash, they will not turn on warmth and they will not turn down companionship. That too, of course, is understandable.

But again... who am I to take charge of others' well-being? If others signaled the need for help, then I have a choice to make. Otherwise... I should not. I should be aware of the consequence of getting involved in other people's life, and I shouldn't be playing a big part, an important role without knowing.

Is this cruelty, or respect?

I feel like we all want specific things, but that's just my own reflection. What I hear is radically different. People will accept money, and they say money is fungible, a dollar is a dollar, in the abstract I get it, but why do I assign meaning and significance to where and whom I get it from? I used to think one's depth is defined by how much they can contain contradictions and make sense of them. I don't know what to think now.

Even the one holding the greatest purpose can feel purposeless sometimes. Can you... Can I forgive it? Can I understand it? Can I accept it?

No doubt, my Context Net has expanded a bit. But I'm still far from reaching the Grand Context, if you will. I met so many creations in the abstract, all someone's brainchild.

I haven't experienced catharsis in a while. It seems like it's all I'm doing, but why do I still feel this way? Each day is a contradiction of the previous, but it never repeats. It's never the same. Even "similar" feels strangely apart. I am constantly rewriting the words of yesterday and changing my thought. On anything and absolutely everything. Somehow there is stability and consistency in this uncertainty. I don't know.

I said I felt the chill last night, and today it was summer outside and people were wearing t shirt.

No matter.

Where am I?

When is this?

The one question I will not ask is Who am I. I know that all along. It's all the other things... nearly all the other things I have to ask. I still view the world like a neanderthal does, I still believe in divine power and love and fear it and wonder about it like the earliest faithfuls. Did my brain not evolve? I'm not oblivious to all the breakthroughs we've made in the years I've lived on this planet. What is it, then?

I believe people tend to act recklessly when they're on the brink of something. Perhaps attaining everything. The Dream of humanity is getting dried up.

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