Showing posts with label Exercises in futility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Exercises in futility. Show all posts

Monday, February 20, 2017

Conspiracy theories in my shopping basket


People have problems. Serious problems. They begin with the best of intentions and somewhere on the way they lose the plot. 

Losing the plot is OK. I've lost it countless times myself. This blog is a testimony of having lost the plot repeatedly and thankfully having found it again. I have been delusional, I have been living in dreamland, I've been lost in fantasies because there are times reality honestly sucks. So I'm OK with losing the plot. We all do it from time to time. 

Do you know what's not, under any circumstances OK? Being so certain you know what's happening that you disregard any opinion different than your own. That's not OK. Why?

We live in a world of subjective reality. Reality can't be objective. Every person perceives reality in a different way. For example, some people can't perceive colour. Others are slightly, or completely deaf. Even those lucky female prodigies who can see a few million colours (I'm told they have a mutation of the X chromosome) can't see in infrared or beyond ultraviolet. Even those with superb hearing can't catch infrasounds, or ultrasounds. Just imagine how many colours we can't see, how many sounds we can't hear, how many energy variations we can't perceive. What we can perceive is in effect very little compared to what we can't.

Having said that, and that alone, it's self-explanatory we know fuck all about the world that surrounds us. Practically, we know shit. And that's fine as long as you're aware of it. The problem begins when someone is certain of something to the point of dogmatic bigotry. One would have thought that the fact we know shit about the world we live in would be insurance against such attitudes, but hell no. We behave as if we know everything and we can bet our lives on it. That's where the problem begins.

I steer clear of conspiracy theories because life tends to be more complex and weirder than even the wildest theories. I also despise New Age and feel disgust for those hacks who sell people a one-size-fits-all solution for 399.90 plus P&P. No, realigning your chakras will do nothing to improve your life, unless you get off your ass and DO something. Sorry to disappoint. There's no such thing as a free meal or painless self-improvement. However, being who I am and what I am, I've often had to tread the unhealthy territory of energy-related research. Well, conspiracy theorists lurk there like athlete's foot lurks in sweaty trainers, and I'm sorry to say, they stink twice as much.

I recently started a research in orgonites. Orgonites are a very real thing, because they have nothing to do with spirits, bizarre theories or one's ancestors. They transmute energy. They turn shitty energy into healthy energy and protect from electromagnetic pollution. So I started researching, reading, comparing. Found this guy who knows his orgonites. He makes and sells some amazing items. I was excited, because it seemed too good to be true. And it was. This guy (who's also vegan because meat is killing us and a smoker) is certain that the Reptilians are the ones responsible for people being gay. In addition to that, anyone who isn't Greek and white belongs to an evil conspiracy to turn the world population into a homogeneous soup of (gasp!) mixed races. (Son of a gun, this is some serious shit. I already feel my purely Greek genes and vagina shuddering in fear.) So we must stop the refugees from coming to our country (or going to any country in general) because they are, in reality, the hordes of evil incarnate and the servants of Reptilians.


Um, sorry, what?

Now, you go and buy his orgonites, keeping in mind they contain quartz crystals in them, and quartz crystals absorb information the same way a sponge absorbs water. Quartz can be programmed to keep and transmit information ad infinitum, and what's worse, the orgonite by its very nature re-enforces the transmitted information. So you have this guy who makes amazing orgonites, only to have them buzz like a beehive with his bias, hatred and paranoia. If I made the mistake of buying from him, I'd be sick within hours of receiving his creations, and you can't cleanse orgonites. The quartz crystals are deep inside the matrix of the construction, frozen inside the resin. You can't immerse them in water to cleanse them, you can't help them in any way. The only way to contain the damage is bury the orgonite, and they are fucking expensive to substitute them for carrots in your garden.

How do you say to such a person that for all their technical knowledge and ingenuity they've lost the plot? Answer: you don't. You don't because they will tell you you are a servant of Reptilians (or a person of alien DNA, or a soulless human, or whatever characterisation they give to anyone who challenges their fossilised life theory) and disregard you. Oh, and they will also tell you you aren't open-minded and your intelligence leaves a lot to be desired. Then they'll ride off into the sunset in pursuit of their 'holy' purpose. And damn, I don't even have red hair that I love so much in order to be a soulless human. ;) I have regular, boring brown hair, with shitloads of white in it. 

Do you know why it's OK I lost the plot, but it is not OK they did? Because even during my most self-involved phases, there was always a part of me that reminded me I could be wrong. And I heeded that part. I kept it in mind. It helped me not to take myself too seriously.

PS. One more thing. Most species on this planet evolved into having two sexes. It was done to ensure constant renewal of the gene pool. It's simple biology. Well, some people like people of the same sex, or both sexes, or neither. Let's not turn our sexuality into a moral issue. They're just gonads, you know? Not mystical stuff, space conquest material, a cure for cancer, or an ingenious way to re-disperse wealth. I mean, for the love of fuck. Literally. Get over it.

Monday, August 08, 2016

Decision time (with lots of f*cks)

I have a brain like an artichoke right now, so maybe writing a blog post is not a good idea. But to hell with it. I have made up my mind about stuff. Here are my decisions.


One, I won't spend any more time thinking  about the fuckwads who have been nasty or mean to me. It's pointless and it makes me angry. Anger is something I have so much of I can open an export company, or give my surplus to those in need. So, no more thinking about those that used to be friends, lovers, penpals, whatever the fuckity fuck ever. It's over. It's dead. It belongs to the past. *middle finger raised in solemn salutation* Good riddance to bad luck.


Two, I won't spend any more time thinking about where I am supposed to be versus to where I am now. It makes me depressed and I honestly can't deal with it. Plus it is as pointless as #1. I can't do anything about it. Maybe I don't care enough, maybe I am not trying enough, maybe this reality is a rigged simulation run by a type IV Kardashev scale civilisation and no matter how much I try, it doesn't and won't respond to my efforts. In any case, no can do, and that's that.

It is indeed. But I don't have the cure for others. I can only help myself.
Three, I can't spend a second more worrying about the fate of humanity, the situation of the world, the pollution, poverty, human trafficking, war, violence against women and so on. I refuse to give more time and energy to that gigantic clusterfuck of monstrosities. I didn't create those situations and consequently I can't solve them and refuse to dwell on them. The injustice of the situation makes me sick with rage. It makes me yell at the heavens at unorthodox hours when everyone is sleeping, and takes away the joy of living. So I will put my efforts in what I can do, however pitifully small that may be, and sign petitions, and feed my stray cats and take care of my friends. The rest, no way Jose. I can't, and it is not my responsibility. 


Four, I will follow the advice of a dear friend. Stand your ground, stick to your own. I know who "my own" are. They are there for me. They may not have solutions to my problems, but they are happy to discuss books, movies, series and every day life with me. They call, they write, they make me laugh, they listen. This is more than most people have and I don't take it for granted.

Five, I will floss more often. 

There. That's it. Now, here is something pretty with burnt orange eyes. You are welcome.

Michael Tintiuc. Source: https://www.instagram.com/p/BIvlXOChVLp/

Sunday, June 05, 2016

Excellent articles for your hungry brains

I am going to publish the links of some excellent articles I've come across in the past months. They have helped me think or put in words what I know it's true, but can't really express it. Read as many as you like. They are all very good.

These two focus on the latest plague of the internet, people's "opinion". For some reason, a part of the population considers their opinion to be something equal to Holy Truth, and they get angry when others point out that just because they are entitled to an opinion, doesn't mean they are right.

http://www.houstonpress.com/arts/no-it-s-not-your-opinion-you-re-just-wrong-updated-7611752

http://thefederalist.com/2014/01/17/the-death-of-expertise/

Or, to put it in another way:


Next thorny subject: self-improvement. Nope, a six-pack will not make you magically attractive to your preferred sex. Read why. 


And one more for the ages: Passion, finding your passion, and what to do with your life.


Enjoy.

Tuesday, January 05, 2016

Inner dialogue: an exercise in repetition.

This is what discussing with myself feels like. Source: http://duncantje.deviantart.com/art/Tea-for-two-371640506
I am learning to put up with people with some measure of success. I am re-learning to see them as humans, actually. Attempting to feel compassion. I need to do something about my constant anger. My motivating forces are anger and desire, and anger I can do without. So I am trying to see what can be done about it. 
My mind is constantly busy, more often than not going in circles around the same subjects. That's why I don't trust my thinking progress very much. I can give you an example of my inner dialogue.

Myself: I wonder if she is OK. I have called her and emailed her repeatedly and she does not answer. Then again, she never picked up her phone, so that comes as no surprise. I hope she is OK. Maybe she is mad at me. I didn't do something for her to be mad. Still I worry about her. 
Me: She chose her path a long time ago and there is nothing you can do about it. 
Myself: I don't want her to change path, but it would be nice to know she is OK. It would be even nicer to be able to communicate with those I have a good time with more often. 
Me: Stop this. You know she is not there anymore. She never was.
Myself: Why people can't understand how important it is to be human by doing simple, every day things like picking up the phone, laughing at a shared joke, discuss. 
Me: Because people are who they are and you are not here to change them. It's important enough to understand these concepts yourself and change. 
Myself: Yes, but if I have no-one to share my insights and discoveries with, what is the purpose of such a discovery? 
Me: It's not your responsibility that humans end up in a deathbed full of regrets. Stop bothering with what you can't change and isn't your cross to carry.
Myself: I wish I could make them understand. 
Me: You can understand and that's enough. 
Myself: I am tired of my loneliness. 
Me: You should be grateful you have the friends you do. 
Myself: I am grateful. I don't take anything for granted. I wonder why those who take nothing for granted are the underdogs of society. 
Me: Maybe because the reason they take nothing for granted has to do with who they are in society to begin with, and the hardship they've already been through. 
Myself: Hardship is no guarantee of a grateful person. 
Me: Nor is lack of hardship guarantee of a callous one. 
Myself: There is great callousness in ignoring whole parts of yourself because you can't deal with the pain. It is the same with that other person too, who was so close to me to grow up into a fussy, perpetually sour individual, who is looking for mistakes like there is a reward for them. She left behind everything she held near and dear because she could not deal with the pain and she secretly blames me for not giving up like she did. 
Me: Hey, are you back into the 'I wonder why people don't understand' mode? Stop this. Don't you have anything better to think about? 
Myself: I can always consider the possibility of my heroine ending with two alpha males instead of one. 
Me: Well, that sounds better than the previous line of thought. 
Myself: But you don't understand, I know and feel all those facts about others and I can't tell them! I am bursting at the seams with the things I want to shout at their faces and I can't. I can't because if I do, they won't listen. Even worse, they will deny everything and tell me I am crazy and I am making it up and I am a mean person and I don't understand shit! 
Me: So? You know what you know, it's not your responsibility to enlighten anyone else. Concentrate. Think of something else. The alpha male duo with the heroine sounds good. 
Myself: Yes, it does. 
Me: That's my girl.

See what I mean? Going around in circles trying in vain to understand why humans are being humans, and the other voice of myself trying to switch my attention to something else and stop me from considering those relationships and situations I can't change or understand. Thankfully she is persuasive.
Other than that, I have a better job now. I am no longer at the supermarket and feel great about it. Although I can't change or enlighten anyone, I can at least smile because I escaped. 
I am off to bed. That should be considered an escape too. My brain is melting from lack of enough sleep. I am afraid that if I blow my nose, I'll accidentally give myself a full lobotomy. Maybe that would be an improvement.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Lacrimosa



 

There is no changing what we are.
There is no changing what we feel. Or is there? 

I am struggling inside my mind, layers upon layers of fetters and conditioning.
My mind resides inside a physical form that places more fetters around my existence.
My body exists inside a society, a preexistent construction that has its own rules and ideas, bringing more fetters in the equation.
My society is a country presently entrapped in a state of economical war with other countries, and I have no future to look forward to, no way to realise my dreams.
As if all the fetters inside weren’t enough, I am also trapped outside and there is no place to run to. I am stranded on a hostile planet with no escape. 

There is nothing for me here. Only the brief repose of reading a book, watching a movie, writing, talking to a friend, when time ceases to exist and that pain abates for a little while.

You tell me to keep on struggling, that better days will come, that this is not all that is, and there is hope.

Maybe there is. But right now all I see is darkness. I have struggled with all those fetters for years, and more fetters come to replace those I have removed and broken with so much effort. I feel buried under them. I cannot breathe. I keep pushing on, blind, broken, angry, furious with rage. I am blind rage and nothing more. Rage is the only thing remaining to fuel me. Sadness does not count.

There is so much blood on my hands, such a burden on my soul. This time I did not kill anyone. This lifetime I played by the rules, and gained a room with a view in prison.

I want out. I want to live. I want even the pretence of living. I want something I cannot have. I want bliss, and the brief moments I have experienced it make me even sadder for knowing what I miss. I want out of here. Out of this fucking planet. Out of this existence. Everything hurts. Every single thing I see cuts me and burns me and hurts me. I am an exposed nerve, and no matter how well I hide, if I make the mistake of walking out and looking at anything else than the trees, something appears to hurt me. From the piece of litter I see on the ground to the contemptuous glance a passerby gives to another passerby, everything hurts and overwhelms me. I am exhausted. I want to rest. I don’t understand anything anymore. I don’t know what I am doing wrong. Maybe this world isn’t for me. Maybe I am not made for this world. Maybe it was all a mistake.

I just want to rest. I want to close my eyes and sleep and never wake up again. I am so tired. So sick of struggling. So sick of fighting to gain what others take for granted. Everything is a struggle and a battle and I am so disgusted of existing just to suffer and flail and achieve nothing.

I want to do nothing. But there is so much I need to do. From mundane tasks to personal projects, there is so much I need to do. And if I open the door and step out of this life, even if something good happens I won’t be there to see it.

That’s what I tell myself and persuade her not to do anything stupid.

I don’t know for how long this will keep me here.
I don’t know how much time I have left before I break completely and don’t care anymore.
For today, it is enough. Tomorrow is another struggle.
One day at a time. One breath at a time.
We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
That’s my girl.