Lifestyles of the Weird and Useless

Humans are imperfect.

Our greatest strength might be our biggest downfall: we inevitably learn from others. And although we learn good things, we may not realize that we are also learning bad things. The guidance we are given may lead us astray, or we might not understand its advice or execute it properly. And eventually someone is hurt whose pain may never be fully understood or recognized, only to continue in a chain reaction of separate misfortunes.

Does this "problem" have a solution? And if so, how do you begin to act in order to fix it? Do you try to instruct? or command? Are you, or I, or anybody fit to take the role of God (regardless of your views) and issue orders? Of course not. And nobody would listen, so who would you begin to order? Your son or daughter, as your parents did? For a family, this solution is practical, but for society, monarchies have already risen and fallen with little to suggest it can offer much of a solution.

I always felt that "organized religion" was the genius result of such musing, or even the attempt to solve the human tendency to self-destruct, addressed by the many "thinkers" of ancient times. Of course, if you say "Fire burns, be careful" your obvious words might be heard and forgotten in an instant. But saying that "Fires from Hell burn, be careful," somehow you've caught the attention, or even curiosity, a few moments longer.

One's faith is a beautiful thing; it can almost equate to one's sense of optimism or hope or purpose or so many other different levels of meaning. If one's faith is practiced through a religion, and from religion, a goal or value can be communicated... a manner of instructions are given on how to realize this... and in a real way education takes place; you can have effectively shaped the values and very nature if only in part of an entire civilization by their own choice. The problems with interpretation can be handled by the foot soldiers (priests), but as long as the message of good is conveyed, then a certain stability is fostered.

Or is that manipulation? And if so, if having done so benignly, does it really matter? We get obsessed with knowing every bit of the truth, as if the truth was in itself a blessing to behold. But the truth of why something is wrong, as ubiquitous as truth might be, is worthless if we fail to understand it, if we're unable to, or if we can never come to agree upon it. How can we assure that we will communicate something good, despite the questions, doubts and difficulties that might be? In the name of God, it seems. By equalizing all things before something greater.

And maybe that's it! To help humanity. It seems so simple and innocent! That is what a religion should do, shouldn't it? That is the role one's faith should play in the decisions that we make, God being synonymous with Good. When the coded logic of what's right and wrong begins to move even the conscious of the simple-minded. But religion is far more than faith, and far more bloated in politics and corruption than it has to be in reality.

And that is often where religion fails. Somewhere between creating a divine mandate and saving humanity from itself, the essential value of human life is lost, or is given a secondary value to something bigger. We add insult to injury by dividing ourselves ridiculously, by continents, nations, colors, and most of all, religion. We all begin as babies, perhaps most representative of the most fragile human state who somehow evoke the most fundamental, caring emotions we have in us (for most people at least). But at what point do we start to see, or start looking for, the differences? We only seem to recognize the importance and magnificence of humans insofar as we understand humans to be "children of" whatever God or gods are being worshiped at the time. But in the same breath we dare to utter "better them than us" when misfortune falls on the other side of a disagreement, as if sorrows were felt differently.

Pardon the naivete in such a question, but could it be so far from reality to have humans valuing other humans above anything else? Not a heaven, not God, not a king or kingdom, flag or nation, cup or cross, symbol or animal or plant... can't the very idea of human life be as sacred in as many ways as it possibly can and not simply in the ways that are most convenient for us? If there ever was a value to have, shouldn't it be the only one that we struggle to maintain as a constant? It is difficult to appreciate human life after learning to do otherwise, but it is possibly the easiest value to teach to children. And when one of us fails to uphold this simplest of basic values, the rest of us should only be reminded of the difficulty of maintaining one's faith, and find strength in the importance of doing so.

But instead we are so quick to punish and condemn any "others" that may be, we forget how equally imperfect we all really are. The idea that "it's not my problem" becomes a way of life. And I begin to wonder if it is a problem, or the way we simply work. You want abortion to end? You want murders to cease? You want peace, not war? Or do you really? We fail when we start with Us and Them. We manage to disassociate ourselves from our neighbors so that we can continue thinking we're right and they're wrong, that they're suffering because they're not with us. But their problem is, as it could have been or may very well become, our problem.

The balance of our extremes normally helps us. It's because of the night sky that we know of day. The cold air of winter gives meaning to the warm summer breeze. If I were something as close to a God, I could only imagine enjoying such near-perfection for so long until I'd become curious of imperfection. Could man serve to explain this?

It is too often said without truly understanding it's meaning that the things closest to us are what we come to least appreciate. Why? Why is it that a man from the mountains will only be moved by the sight of the sea? His snowy peaks and blanket of trees and the depths of his valleys are as noble and as enchanting; they would be as moving to anybody who hasn't seen the mountains before, just as the sea is to him.

Perhaps we are geared to be unsatisfied. To never stop looking at how much greener the grass is on the other side. To always miss the smell of the sea, however fresh the mountain air is. Is this why we can torture ourselves so easily? Why the simple solution never seems obvious? Do we subconsciously yearn for struggle? To somehow cause ourselves suffering in order to eventually come to be at ease?

Addictions, vices, the pleasures that make us feel guilty... they could be described as moments of heaven that we create for ourselves, sometimes in spite of a living hell one must endure for a tiny bit (or a lifetime).

It's not as if we're truly ignorant of our actions or we're helpless to them. Nor is it that we are cunning and fully taking into account the damage that inevitably befalls us. Sadly, we fall in the middle, rather pitifully and flailingly to our own demise most often. A moment of weakness, perhaps. A crime of emotion (self-inflicted). Or simply, a mistake we could've avoided but simply didn't.

Does somebody need to tell you fire burns? That poison kills? That guns are lethal? that drugs can cause addictions? Is it necessary to remind each other that you can die (in any moment)? There are some ends that seem so directly linked to certain means that we tend to say they "go without saying."

For some, no, for most, living life is essentially a physical expression of their will and desire. There is little thought necessary when living like this. "I want this, now I have it. Success." And in spite of the suffering or torture it may bring, happiness is replaced with satisfaction, and it's experience is naturally temporary.

But this is how we choose to live. Our free will is being exercised. How we come to know of happiness is surely the most important right a human can have, isn't it?

Frankly, it should be simple.. I think that life is one grand magic trick.   We don't know exactly what's happening, but we're all aware that magic is involved. And thus, the magic can exist for as long as we let it.

Children seem the most satisfied by this. Being mistified is an experience of awe and pleasure, though the act is ever so simple! It's no wonder why children can be so happy so easily.

But eventually we grow, or sometimes we're forced to grow, and we begin looking for more.  Where the hell did that coin go? It drives us nuts and we go to such great depths to finally 'get it.' We start to question the magic, dissecting it and revealing it for it's trickery, we begin to take more pleasure from it than the magic itself!

And the greater the magic, the more we frustrate ourselves, tire ourselves, punish and demand higher of ourselves until we begin to forget exactly what we were trying to do in the first place.  Until, finally, we lose part of ourselves. And maybe we never find that part again. And maybe it's a tragedy, because it all came from the experience of something simple and magical. Really, have you ever learned a magic trick and ended up thinking afterwards, "Wow, it really is magical"?

Yes, life is a magic trick but it has no trick to show for... so I guess the 'magic' can really be anything, but there's no question that it is especially us.  And yet we keep on looking...

I know that doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but that's part of the point I'm trying to make. I still don't get it.  And you shouldn't either. Like this, the magic still enchants instead of frustrates... and it's so much easier to enjoy it this way.

myself stupid.

I've always scratched my head when somebody claims how good something is because it's natural. Let's make it clear, there's nature, and then there's human interaction with nature. The result is always going to be mixed, sometimes beneficial, sometimes detrimental. That's it!

When we say "good" or "bad" we really take for granted what it is we are saying. Obviously it's going to be subjective. The effect of saying so is important. It conveys that something is considered to have a positive effect (good) opposed to something with that of a negative. It distinguishes the action, or rather, establishes a moral line of reasoning behind an action. It's what we think, therefore, that qualifies the effect. In other words, it's simply an opinion. Natural occurrences are fine and dandy, but being good, and for that matter, being bad should not be confused with natural occurrences.

But does this mean there is a universal Good or Bad? No. It's human thought that has invented, or if you prefer, discovered the line of reasoning that qualifies goodness. To accept that human thought is natural seems reasonable, but this would also accept that all human thoughts are equally natural, thus making everything caused by man a natural cause, which does not seem to be the intended effect one desires when saying "natural occurrence." We usually separate man from nature. In fact, it is everything up until human thought that seems to be considered natural.

Clearly there will be exceptions because we form a part (though only a sliver) of the natural world. It's true that we have instincts, our more 'bodily functions' will at times govern us. But it is, indeed, our ability to think that separates us from the animals. Why? Because it brings with it a responsibility. And with it we lose our innocence. And I'm not speaking in biblical terms, though the comparison is food for thought.

We begin with the simplest of thoughts, and can continue to the complexity of science. It's from our thoughts that flows the different shades and meanings and understandings and depths of ideas. We can recognize what begins to form a simple idea of, for example "right" or "correct" or more importantly "good", and we build upon it. Sometimes we find ways of confirming it until we can say it's "TRUE" but most times there's nothing more scientific than simply getting a "you're right" or a "me too" from somebody else.

How could we ever deny anyone this inalienable right? Simple, by death. Years upon years, centuries, melleniums of reasoning, of agreeing, of arguing and of killing. We build upon what we know until we can hardly believe someone actually might know something different and disagree! It's no wonder why in nearly all cultures throughout history the act of murder of another is against whatever code system existed.

So, returning to the point initially being made, being good is not really natural, although some of us are naturally good. We have a responsibility to recognize what is good and not expect the sheer naturalness of it to happen, because it likely won't. By being able to understand what may be good, we are obligated to understand why it is good and constantly test it. We have an obligation to allow that we could be wrong in spite of all the hope we have that we are are not.

Relativism nor absolutism will ever serve this cause--you cannot accept that any opinion is a right one, nor that only opinion should exist. Our definitions, whether of justice, of happiness or of goodness, are both what we feel as much as what we learn from others to be true. And the risk of being wrong is always worth the effort of learning that you're right. For we always struggle, from the womb to the grave, in order to live. Why would living rightly be any different?

There really isn't an end to the year, it's just the illusion given from buying a new calendar.
Your so-and-so years old is just because 365 seemed to be a particularly unique number.
But these laws of time are so special when you've had little experience with them.
They don't creep up, nor fly by, but are awaited and welcomed with glee.
And we look forward, with excitement, for it only will start again.
Though time really never winds itself up like some alarm clock.
If anything, it runs away and doesn't look back.
Until one day it's us who start looking back
In the moments that let us rest a little
Yet we only remember very little
of what made being so little
so special and strange,
as if it were a lie
that we ever
could have
been, oh,
so little
oh, so
free.

Chaos is the natural order of things.

I can never seem to get rid of the feeling of dry skin once my hands have it. All the hand cream and skin products in the world won't give the desired effect... instead it simply feels exactly as it is: that I've lathered a bunch of skin product over what is still dry skin. Little by little, nonetheless, the dry feel goes away, but it feels so artificial and I'm left with strange smelling, oily hands.

Anyways, things have, as they always have done, moved on. No depressive feelings, or helpless complaints, or whining and moaning. Once in a while, if absolutely necessary, is understandable. And I do have to admit, I couldn't avoid it.

And now, back to life.

It's just a house, not a home.

And I'm surrounded by it. Concrete, glass and stone and more concrete. Strangers and a swamp of illegally parked cars. Barking lap dogs at every corner and the shit left behind on every sidewalk by their owners. Children and their parents and the complaining honking of somebody whose blocked in. The endless drone of the highway in the distance and constant passing of planes overhead. I can see the stars sometimes, and the moon, but they look so out of character.

The city is such a dark place when you're sad. When you want to be alone, or worse, when you feel lonesome, you are suffocated by the presence of every other single person. This week a cloud has set itself on top of my very soul. And it doesn't want to leave. It scares me how self-destructive and uncaring I become when I'm low. I don't become violent, but I want to cause myself further pain. As if I've found a knife stabbed in my side and I've decided to push it through until it comes out the other.

I thought I was a rather happy person, but now I have my doubts. I thought I was somewhat intelligent, and now I know I'm not. I'm far too self-absorbed, far too near-sighted, and far too insecure to really have a chance to do what I want to do. I'm strange. Sometimes painfully awkward. I think too much, or not at all. And in the end I resent the people around me for my shortcomings. In the end I become jealous that they're not miserable with me.

So it's evening, finally. The day has worn itself out, and the sun is blowing the last of its kisses farewell. My feet hurt. One of my nostrils won't stop running. I'd much rather lay down and do nothing, but instead I'm sitting up, typing, and doing virtually nothing. One has to allow one's self such indulgences from time to time, day to day.

By the time I finish writing this entry the day will have turned to dusk and soon night will fall. Tonight is the eve of Hallow's Eve. While Spain doesn't celebrate it traditionally, it's slowly catching the American taste of things generation by generation, bearing in mind it's truly celebrated by the kiddies. I spent all day helping with my elementary school's festivities... and though I'm tired, I can't help but think of when I had my Halloween parties in school as a boy. That makes me feel good, because those are some good memories.

Children are special things. It's clear that the lot of them are bright, their cleverness shocks me. And their innocence is so refreshing it breaks my heart to think how some inevitable day some of that innocence will be tainted and corrupted. It's an injustice if there ever was a system of justice. Even the rotten kids, which there's no denying that some kids are plain rotten, but even these rotten ones have so much smoother edges than what they someday might have.

The junkies, the thieves, the self-centered assholes, the uneducated, the ignorant, the delusional. Eventually, after that innocence is finally tainted, the decisions are that of empowered adults, not that of a child who doesn't know any better... but I don't doubt that most of the rough edges come from an experience that could have been avoided. Or worse, comes from the avoidance of something that should have been experienced.