I watched this video I saw on facebook.
It’s one of those self affirming, seize the day type videos.
It makes you feel all emotional inside like you want to achieve something. But then you don’t.
It’s just some feeling that’s there and then it’s gone. Hold onto the feeling.
The people in the comment sections are saying this only applies to people who have the privilege of the opportunity to follow their dreams.
Some people have to go through shit so that others can live their wonderful dream. Did the video say anything about it all being fair? Well it said don’t abuse anyone, but then what’s abuse? And what is it supposed to be the gospel? We recognise the ideas and look at them closely to see if they stand up.
It’s just an important consideration since I fit into the category of having the privilege to do whatever I like. What’s stopping me from taking this all to heart? Well it assumes certain things about what is meaningful.
Is travel meaningful, and being a big fat hippy, free and unemployed?
Sure well any way you can survive, but it’s just not realistic to think that you don’t have to work or experience some unpleasantness in some way to progress, to grow, to get along, to survive, to eat, to live. The point is if you can improve your situation, although that inevitably presents a new problem, as you upgrade to a new situation.
But what about me, I am free, I am unemployed, I can travel. But I don’t want to travel, I’ll do that some other time.
Theyre saying youre going to step back and see this amazing thing that you’re going to do. If you don’t know what it is you have to go and find it. But what if it’s just not there, and you’re just feeling like you need a break, because you’ve been broken? Well maybe you just need to recover. But then you’re always recovering from something and nothing ever happens. Well what are you recovering from?
Some stupid shit. There’s so much stupid shit. The way my girl was acting last night. The fact that I’ve had to work a bit harder this year. The tragedy I’ve had, and then the long term rest required after the work done long term to make my business succeed. I will recover soon enough.
How many different things should you try to be? How seriously do you take it? Well what does it matter?
You do something enjoyable, amazing, exciting, it’s wonderful, and then it’s gone, the emotion passes through you. You’re supposed to have no regrets. But what does it matter anyway, it doesn’t matter that much to anyone else.
It makes me think of girls, the way you just have the same conversations, and the same situations, and it’s all the same. It used to be romance.
But after the same vibe again and again it gets worn out. What is there to know? It’s a city. It’s alcohol. It’s a young woman and she has so many hopes and dreams she doesn’t know yet that you cannot fulfill. It doesn’t matter.
It is improbable that we should be alive and so we should use the chance to do something. Motivated by what? The fact that when we die nothing else really matters? Sure but why have we then got to go on this prideful indulgent quest for self knowledge and wisdom that also equates to nothing eventually either?
It’s all so meaningless, outside of the fact that with a girl there is a moment and then it’s gone.
With art there is a moment – just like this video – and soon that is gone too.
With this blog, I write and I try to hang on to something I can know.
I know that the moment rises and falls like the tide. It is like a machine that recharges and discharges in it’s cycle of use.
We must go to work to get what we want, we must strive to improve in the means by which we complete our work. It doesn’t really matter if it all works out. If you can have something that you are motivated to enjoy then ride the spirit of the thought that compels you.
It will always come and go. Riding the balance of such things is all that can be done.
Why be realistic? Why not be wily? Okay sure. I think I understand that. But am I going to be happy once I’ve taken the most risk averse path to chasing girls and making art, will I not feel like I could have made better art, chased better girls down paths of greater revelation and mystery?
It doesn’t matter. That’s not the point, the point is to see it doesn’t matter and run from here to there, fly about like a kite, knowing that my money game will keep my kite string flying up from the ground, but never away.
What does that mean?
They talked about a battle, they talked about challenging yourself, I want to challenge myself. Does that mean I have to stop blogging?
Does that mean we’re happier when we’re sad? We’re comforted by discomfort? How do I challenge myself? By acting to do something other than blog.
DO the videos, the songs, the writings you don’t want to do. Wasn’t it what I always wanted to do? Obviously not.
Am I blogging my way around the comfort zone or am I digging in deep, instinctively for something can I smell the bone underneath the layers of dirt?
They want you to beat the reaper by living this adventurous life? To be a seeker? Sounds nice. How would I be a seeker? Well to let my mind flow free of the need to make my business work. From the idea that I need art to prove anything. From the idea that I need a woman to supply adventure and romance. That it’s not a real adventure or a real romance if there’s no girl.
That’s a hard one to beat, but I only see it now that my latest girl has taught me to be fed up with silly girls who waste your time and attention with personally indulgent nonsense.
It goes onto outline the definiteness of death. Which is important. Death is the one thing we know to be real in amongst all this spiritually affirming jibber jabber, so this is worth recognising. Death is the end that gives all beginnings meaning.
So don’t allow yourself to end life regretting the things you never did. Well we’ve heard all this before. How are we supposed to know what we will regret not doing before making a huge mistake that will hurt our opportunities?
I tried my best. I tried to be pragmatic. To muster my resources. Maybe I wasn’t daring enough. Maybe I never found the right people to trust, but I played the game as best I could. How can I regret that? How can I regret that often I was scared because it was too harsh?
Finally it starts in with the speech saying don’t abuse, show respect, never grovel, all that . . . and I’m just left wondering, who’s rules are these and who are the karma police?
If you see no reason for giving thanks then it’s my fault, because I’m an asshole, right?
But I feel the noble death song.
Sing your death song and die like a hero going home. Now that sounds powerful. What does it mean? What is my death song? It’s that recognition that I will die, and the thoughts that flow through my head of what it meant to be alive, and that in the end I was alone, and it didn’t really matter.
But it comes back to that thing, you can’t help but read the comments from all the sad people saying . . . but we can’t all just leave our jobs and live like heroes! And you can’t help but feel sorry for them, because of the truth staring at all of us, though most people are too stupid to understand what it means.
Don’t try and tell me you didn’t know. I just can’t stand the willful ignorance of people who pretend the system isn’t just a giant dildo thats going to fuck us all. Sure we can have fun. I can have fun, I have money, but the clock is ticking. And so I chose to write this bleak philosophical rebuttal, but to some the truth – or what feels like the truth – must speak.
Fun fades, the party ends, the love affair dims, the drug wears off, the feeling always passes. So it is.
Some silly ass video can’t change the facts, the reality of the world we live in, however it may profit us to delude ourselves.
The universe doesn’t care either way. So sing your death song and let the hammer fall.
They’ve said you’ve got to believe that in the end the dots will line up, and maybe they will. The girls who never really took me seriously, the people who have betrayed me, stolen from me, worked against me. Whatever injustice I could choose to fixate on, it’s a joke when you see what the universe has given me, wealth, health, creativity, experiences and girls, do I only curse myself by fixating on this injustice, indulging my ego like I am the judge of all things?
What do you want them to say when you die? What does it matter?
I will do your CD/DVD job. I will take you out for dinner and dancing. I will write you a soulful dnb tune with a video. Do I expect you to like me? I don’t think it matters. But I seem to feel that it does, that maybe I need to let go of the idea that the universe owes me something.
You are getting what you deserve. You will get what you deserve. You get to choose what you deserve.
If I don’t like it, it’s only my fault.