Wednesday, July 4, 2018
Why Don't Old People -
So Grandma 2 fell when she was literally walking and now she's in hospital. Her ankle is broken and her shoulder blade is broken from what I've heard. Grandpa was with her at the time so there is really no room for any conspiracy theory. It happened when she's walking.
I haven't felt one iota of sadness since. I have to tell you that. I have to tell you the truth. I have felt nothing but annoyance. I'm certainly not flying back to visit her. I have to know why. I have to know why is it that the first thought that popped into my head when I heard this was "Why don't old people kill themselves?"
I know I have a lot of problems with old people this summer. I saw a picture of the pope the other day and he looks exceedingly like the old creep from across the street. I'm trying to digest literature about medieval Italy, so you know how hard that's been on me. The imperialism vs papacy thing is interesting, but a topic for another day.
I would kill myself when I turn 50. I don't know how many times I have told you this. I told you at one point I may consider 40, right? Did I? Anyway. That is a fact. That's one of the oaths I took.
Oh by the way, to explain the last post that was defiantly out of ordinary, it's because I've been watching a lot of creepy conspiracy theory videos in the last few days and it eases me to hear people's television at night. I wouldn't call it a complete waste of time. The logic in most of the videos I watched was frail, but the perspectives are important. Why yes, I do believe that citizens are assets of a nation, and the nation encourages them to live longer than they should to sustain the medicare industry.
I can understand why a teenager kills himself or a 100-yo doesn't. It's a matter of free will, what I respect the most. I've been seeing more and more people vocalizing about their own God recently, and I accept that. That literally is the norm to me. Some people get defensive about it, insisting that their own God is the only God, which is absurd. I reckon we're not seeing more people confessing their belief because of this, because they can't accept other people have their own God too. I mean, we all know what this "God" is, it's something vastly more profound than the superego, not the same category really so I don't know if it's even comparable, but it involves the unknown.
I hear this saying that people don't kill themselves because they fear the unknown, which is unfathomable to me. Unknown is literally what keeps me going, and I can't accept if it's the opposite for other people. I can never accept it because it's a fundamental difference, like...
Anyway. I don't fear death and I have never feared death. I have never feared missing out, it's impossible.
I can understand why people like Stephen Hawking want to live on (no I know, RIP). God would approve of that, too. I can understand why some absolutely hideous fuck that everyone calls evil is working to obtain immortality. I'll bet you anything he is not planning to live long just to "enjoy a good life". I don't know if God would approve of that. What I don't understand is why people who have so little would live on into the old age. Aren't they turned off by their own image in in the mirror combined with the fact that they're worthless? Do people know they're worthless? That has been one of my main wonders about our society. Worth is relative, and everyone should be able to see their worth in the grand scheme of things. So why, I beg you, why do so many worthless people feel entitled?
I get that people don't do things for the abstract goodness or out of logic. I kind of already have the answer. Some people are just unaware. If one doesn't receive any gift from God, finds little happiness in life, one still may have the free will to live. That is so different from my will. That is animal. Humans living with animals. Yeah, makes sense. You slaughter the animals, make them into whatevers. If they want to live, then let them live.
Cool. I can see that now.
Grandma 2 has been somewhat miserable in her whole entire life. She told me in secret how hard it is being a woman in this world, and I think that might have been one of the only few times she's told anybody the truth of her misery. I cried because I felt her. It is no less true today than it was then. We're approaching the End Game and women have lost. But what kind of losers are we?
Even if we achieved universal matriarchy on the eve of our destruction, we were still dominated most of our history. I'm not saying there is no point in any of the equal rights movements- hell, every little bit counts. I'm just saying... the facts. Facing these facts to live is no less optimistic than an old person having no gift or joy in life and decides to live. In that respect, I'm no different from any living old lady.
What kind of losers are we?
I won't be the kind of loser who takes a tumble and has to be hospitalized. I guess that's why I have little sympathy for her. At the end of the day, I only sympathize with myself, and following, whoever is most like me.
Once you acknowledge everybody's free will, you don't have sympathy for them anymore. You trust them handling themselves and facing whatever it is that comes at them in life. It's not how our society works, and I am so incredibly alone.
Still, I will bring about the change. I was born a loser, but I will die a winner. I die... differently... and early, but it's my own choosing. God must see this.
Grandma 2 is in pain, but is she in peace? Even now, does she have regret?
I have no tears to spare for the living or the dead. My heart is a pump, and that's it. I am a machine with will. I don't miss what I've lost, because what I lost is not God's design. The human body is not God's design, either, you know. It's part of the evolution. I don't really lust after some ape's body. I can't. So much of it is nature's design, human's design, the flesh, the rules, and so on. What God gives us is ... invisible to some people, and indeed, it's my invisible weapon.
I hope she gets well. It's unlikely because she's been vegan her whole life and her bones probably snapped like kit kat. I know what's causing her pain and I know she knows there is very little she can do about it. Her pain is part of my pain, and my pain is much greater. The interesting thing is, when your pain is that much greater, one little part of it is not going to dictate your life. She's controlled by that little bit of pain that devoured so many women, and she's also controlled by what time did to her body. I can't help her.
I might not be around to see the true End of End Game. The last people are somewhat lucky, they get to have some clarity and closure as regards to how the world ends. She, and I, and everyone who's dying right now are dying in the process, and not the end. Do you honestly not know how lucky it is to be the last people on earth?
Well that's it then. Still playing the End Game.