Post by xunpredictablel on May 31, 2010 20:16:16 GMT -5
Introduction:
I am wrecked with a wretched frustration. Does humanity not deserve my expectations? Do the wretched humans not deserve to be expected something of? Perhaps my current mental state is ill befitting to say such things, but the ease with which people uselessly spend their days sickens me - and I become wrecked with bitter despair.
I remember, once, my utter intrigue and fascination with humans. I heard constant stories of their goodness and I had a prime example of human generosity - my father. I have constant, utterable stories of his want of a better world. He bought my boyfriend groceries when his family was struggling, shaved his head for a friend with cancer. There was a certain gleam with which I upheld humanity - their wrongdoings simply passed over me as an occasion - not the typical.
I don't quite know when I lost hope. Perhaps it started a long time ago - when I was subjected to my mother's rage. Maybe it was when I started growing and finding the previously unnoticeable flaws in human morality and justice. Perhaps it was when a gun was almost pulled on me. Me, the young innocent who had done so little to deserve such a thing. I never once before let myself focus on one's faults. Typically, the good always outweighed the bad.
I suppose I was a doormat, of sorts. I had a tendency to allow people to use me for all I was good for and leave me to my own devices. It's the heroine in me - I always want to allow someone a sense of salvation within themselves. I was ever forgiving and giving - a naivete was my best friend. I'm lucky I didn't experience more than a few people who took advantage of my benevolent (or attempting benevolence) attitude. I wanted people to have an outlet so they could be the best they could possibly be.
See, I was the very definition of low self-esteem. I had so many things holding me back from my true potential that it was overwhelming and eventually insurmountable. I grew to be victimized - constantly, I'd curl into a ball and blame everyone else. I still do - I suppose. It's human nature to avoid responsibilities for your actions, especially as a child. By no means am I saying it is justified or allowed. It takes a certain type of person, however, to allow themselves to grow up and be responsible.
Now, knowing the true definition of poor self-esteem, I found myself plagued by the idea of others having a low self-esteem as well. It hurt me, physically, cast a certain shadow over life - because I knew that others could be as utterly miserable as I was and am. I have this maternal instinct over everyone I meet. If someone I don't know is crying, I have an uncontrollable desire to go and comfort them.
The human nature of misery so intrigues me. I am the most miserable I have ever been... But it is almost a necessity for a person such as myself. Perhaps I have an inflated ego, but I feel as though I have something genuine and original to offer the world.
I have always been an avid pursuer of love... That's right - not only am I a Romantic in almost every aspect of life, I am capable of this almost superhuman capacity of love. I've always known that the world could be changed by my love... If only people would accept it.
I apologize for my scatterbrained sense of writing, dear whoever you are.
This is meant to be an organization of morals, almost - a pseudophilosopher's pseudophilosophy. I'm not saying it's the right way for everyone to live - but it's always proved the right way for me to live. And if everyone had a pseudophilosophy, perhaps the would better understand themselves - and others.
Ever since I was little, I was so focused on spiritual things. I was never really taught to know a god - it was just something obvious and common sense to me. I, of course, found my form of a god in the Christian God. He was the most palpable god to me - likened to a human and of human emotions, almost. How else could you believe in something as a child? Humans find it so difficult to discern a supernatural being's characteristics without using human adjectives and affections.
So, God was described as terrible and great, awesome and ominous. As I grew older, I found these human adjectives to be contradicting. How can a being be amazing and perfect and worthy of praise if it wreaks havoc and death upon this world? I've never understood that. Perhaps some learned priest could come and explain it to me, but that would do little to convince me that Christianity is the religion for me. Their ways are too skewed with years of attempted palpability of a God has mislead them. Spirituality can have no true name or description. Are humans not foolish for trying?
However, the presence of a higher power has never been questionable to me. Whether it has any likeness to humanity, though, I do not know. It seems unlikely to me that one with the power to create a world and universe could possibly be as flawed as a human. Perhaps the only higher power is nature. But consider this, friend, human beings acting in harmony with animals and other living factors - can you imagine the utter, raw power that this unity could behold? Perhaps, though, this cannot happen. Human tendencies to be self-righteous seem to deem this near impossible. Because, of course, animals aren't self aware, are they? (Queue a giant sign signifying this epic sarcasm)
Now, aside from my belief in a higher power, spirituality is still such a broad and unexplained topic for me. Most of my beliefs are utterly unfounded aside from what I feel. I suppose I live in my own reality.
Trees are an object of my affection. Their tall, delicate and elegant stature astound me to every degree of the word. Their beauty is unbelievable. However, their "nonexistent" soul... That belief sickens me. How dare we, as humans, decide whether or not trees have souls ? How dare we try to determine how souls even work? Scientists try to say it's all due to a certain part of the human and animal brain that determines whether we are aware of ourselves and others. But is it not truly arrogant to assume your subject of study has anything to do with something metaphysical ? Is science itself not purely the study of the physical attributes and tendencies of the world? The only science that could truly pertain to self awareness is perhaps psychology.
The existence of souls in nearly everything in this world has been utterly obvious to me. Perhaps it is because I feel as though I cannot relate to humans as well as I should be able to. My tendency towards misery and torturous thoughts so attracts me to the tree. Imagine being rooted in one place for so long, being so locked up within yourself with the inability of expression. Literature is my saving grace in such cases, but oh! The tortured tree! But doesn't the appearance of the tree so signify torture? The withered bark - vulnerable insides. Leaves that fade and drop as winter comes - the only change for the tree besides the weather. Vulnerability. Tortured allowance of things to grow close, for what brethren does a tree have? Each seems so alone... So wise - wizened perhaps in their struggle to understand why- why can they not have freedom like the damned two-legged freaks? It's interesting - trees can signify so much - so many different things depending on one's personality or mood. How could one deny a being so full of life a soul? That is demeaning to the highest extent.
Then. spiritually, there is the huge mystery of the human emotion. Emotion is almost like an art. It leads to art, so certainly it could be considered one. It is the difference between a successful, stable doctor and a deadbeat. It is the difference between a beautiful, caring, affectionate mother and an abusive, hateful one. Emotions are to be honed - fine tuned in order to control them. But! Here's a thought. What if you don't control them? Emotions are the closest things we humans have to instinct. Are we truly denying our Nature in its every aspect? We try to control our impulses, but for what? A more stable life? But WHY? What is stability to a free mind but another chain? So few people understand what I have to say, but it makes so much sense to me.
Human emotion is so difficult to put to words. As a poet, it is my ultimate duty to do so, but ease is certainly no word to use. People make up meaningless words for the most meaningful subjects, only to understand! Oh, the typical ways of humanity. Why can we not ask questions and simply understand that it is not our duty or right to understand?
I am wrecked with a wretched frustration. Does humanity not deserve my expectations? Do the wretched humans not deserve to be expected something of? Perhaps my current mental state is ill befitting to say such things, but the ease with which people uselessly spend their days sickens me - and I become wrecked with bitter despair.
I remember, once, my utter intrigue and fascination with humans. I heard constant stories of their goodness and I had a prime example of human generosity - my father. I have constant, utterable stories of his want of a better world. He bought my boyfriend groceries when his family was struggling, shaved his head for a friend with cancer. There was a certain gleam with which I upheld humanity - their wrongdoings simply passed over me as an occasion - not the typical.
I don't quite know when I lost hope. Perhaps it started a long time ago - when I was subjected to my mother's rage. Maybe it was when I started growing and finding the previously unnoticeable flaws in human morality and justice. Perhaps it was when a gun was almost pulled on me. Me, the young innocent who had done so little to deserve such a thing. I never once before let myself focus on one's faults. Typically, the good always outweighed the bad.
I suppose I was a doormat, of sorts. I had a tendency to allow people to use me for all I was good for and leave me to my own devices. It's the heroine in me - I always want to allow someone a sense of salvation within themselves. I was ever forgiving and giving - a naivete was my best friend. I'm lucky I didn't experience more than a few people who took advantage of my benevolent (or attempting benevolence) attitude. I wanted people to have an outlet so they could be the best they could possibly be.
See, I was the very definition of low self-esteem. I had so many things holding me back from my true potential that it was overwhelming and eventually insurmountable. I grew to be victimized - constantly, I'd curl into a ball and blame everyone else. I still do - I suppose. It's human nature to avoid responsibilities for your actions, especially as a child. By no means am I saying it is justified or allowed. It takes a certain type of person, however, to allow themselves to grow up and be responsible.
Now, knowing the true definition of poor self-esteem, I found myself plagued by the idea of others having a low self-esteem as well. It hurt me, physically, cast a certain shadow over life - because I knew that others could be as utterly miserable as I was and am. I have this maternal instinct over everyone I meet. If someone I don't know is crying, I have an uncontrollable desire to go and comfort them.
The human nature of misery so intrigues me. I am the most miserable I have ever been... But it is almost a necessity for a person such as myself. Perhaps I have an inflated ego, but I feel as though I have something genuine and original to offer the world.
I have always been an avid pursuer of love... That's right - not only am I a Romantic in almost every aspect of life, I am capable of this almost superhuman capacity of love. I've always known that the world could be changed by my love... If only people would accept it.
I apologize for my scatterbrained sense of writing, dear whoever you are.
This is meant to be an organization of morals, almost - a pseudophilosopher's pseudophilosophy. I'm not saying it's the right way for everyone to live - but it's always proved the right way for me to live. And if everyone had a pseudophilosophy, perhaps the would better understand themselves - and others.
Ever since I was little, I was so focused on spiritual things. I was never really taught to know a god - it was just something obvious and common sense to me. I, of course, found my form of a god in the Christian God. He was the most palpable god to me - likened to a human and of human emotions, almost. How else could you believe in something as a child? Humans find it so difficult to discern a supernatural being's characteristics without using human adjectives and affections.
So, God was described as terrible and great, awesome and ominous. As I grew older, I found these human adjectives to be contradicting. How can a being be amazing and perfect and worthy of praise if it wreaks havoc and death upon this world? I've never understood that. Perhaps some learned priest could come and explain it to me, but that would do little to convince me that Christianity is the religion for me. Their ways are too skewed with years of attempted palpability of a God has mislead them. Spirituality can have no true name or description. Are humans not foolish for trying?
However, the presence of a higher power has never been questionable to me. Whether it has any likeness to humanity, though, I do not know. It seems unlikely to me that one with the power to create a world and universe could possibly be as flawed as a human. Perhaps the only higher power is nature. But consider this, friend, human beings acting in harmony with animals and other living factors - can you imagine the utter, raw power that this unity could behold? Perhaps, though, this cannot happen. Human tendencies to be self-righteous seem to deem this near impossible. Because, of course, animals aren't self aware, are they? (Queue a giant sign signifying this epic sarcasm)
Now, aside from my belief in a higher power, spirituality is still such a broad and unexplained topic for me. Most of my beliefs are utterly unfounded aside from what I feel. I suppose I live in my own reality.
Trees are an object of my affection. Their tall, delicate and elegant stature astound me to every degree of the word. Their beauty is unbelievable. However, their "nonexistent" soul... That belief sickens me. How dare we, as humans, decide whether or not trees have souls ? How dare we try to determine how souls even work? Scientists try to say it's all due to a certain part of the human and animal brain that determines whether we are aware of ourselves and others. But is it not truly arrogant to assume your subject of study has anything to do with something metaphysical ? Is science itself not purely the study of the physical attributes and tendencies of the world? The only science that could truly pertain to self awareness is perhaps psychology.
The existence of souls in nearly everything in this world has been utterly obvious to me. Perhaps it is because I feel as though I cannot relate to humans as well as I should be able to. My tendency towards misery and torturous thoughts so attracts me to the tree. Imagine being rooted in one place for so long, being so locked up within yourself with the inability of expression. Literature is my saving grace in such cases, but oh! The tortured tree! But doesn't the appearance of the tree so signify torture? The withered bark - vulnerable insides. Leaves that fade and drop as winter comes - the only change for the tree besides the weather. Vulnerability. Tortured allowance of things to grow close, for what brethren does a tree have? Each seems so alone... So wise - wizened perhaps in their struggle to understand why- why can they not have freedom like the damned two-legged freaks? It's interesting - trees can signify so much - so many different things depending on one's personality or mood. How could one deny a being so full of life a soul? That is demeaning to the highest extent.
Then. spiritually, there is the huge mystery of the human emotion. Emotion is almost like an art. It leads to art, so certainly it could be considered one. It is the difference between a successful, stable doctor and a deadbeat. It is the difference between a beautiful, caring, affectionate mother and an abusive, hateful one. Emotions are to be honed - fine tuned in order to control them. But! Here's a thought. What if you don't control them? Emotions are the closest things we humans have to instinct. Are we truly denying our Nature in its every aspect? We try to control our impulses, but for what? A more stable life? But WHY? What is stability to a free mind but another chain? So few people understand what I have to say, but it makes so much sense to me.
Human emotion is so difficult to put to words. As a poet, it is my ultimate duty to do so, but ease is certainly no word to use. People make up meaningless words for the most meaningful subjects, only to understand! Oh, the typical ways of humanity. Why can we not ask questions and simply understand that it is not our duty or right to understand?
