I feel completely awkward and uncomfortable. I am trying to invent a new language for myself; A new way to unlock the strangeness. How does the world make sense? Does the world make sense? The Universe is chaos. Humans are logical. Therefore, humans can only view the Universe as logical. I’ve met some that don’t though. I, myself, do not see the Universe as logical. So maybe I’m just talking myself up here. But the only thing that makes anything close to sense is that nothing makes any fucking sense.
Just go online and you’ll see how strange humans really are. But we pretend to not be strange. We pretend to fit into some Hollywood mold. But now Hollywood is truly falling apart and we don’t know what the standard is anymore. Our American President USA is rich, selfish, and has certainly no connection with War or balancing a national budget and we put him there…And I mean yes, even those that voted against him…We put him there. We all lay complacent about the suffering of others. Too many people saying, “Not my problem.” Too many people spewing hate at the Other; The different; The unfamiliar. None of this is new. It’s all the same as it’s always been. And that being said this time shall pass as well.
We are not required to care. Especially as a free person…there is no law about caring for other human beings. There is no law here saying you have to feel sympathy or empathy. There is no law against hatred. There are laws against violence; But, to those who hate, do those laws really matter?
We search for purpose in a world that does not assign us one. So, we create our own purpose. We might even invent those that we believe give us a purpose…or, yes, maybe those beings did invent us (still does not prove the Universe (or God) are logical)…So, we give ourselves enemies so we can feel useful. However, we can also give ourselves friends, but then someone else’s friends will certainly come after ours. Because that is logical, we believe it. But the Universe is not logical.
I can tell you a dream I once had…
There was a giant squared clearing in a forest. In the center there were two squared silos…or more like stairwells. I entered one of them. I don’t remember going up, but at some point I was walking down the stairs and reached the bottom. Before exiting the silo I was compelled to turn around. I looked at part of the wall under the stairs. Somehow, I knew that the wall was not real, and that I could walk through it. As I did so, a small room appeared. The walls were lined with books and there was a very old man there with a long gray beard. He was about to speak, but then I realized that the wall behind me was starting to materialize again…and I knew that if it did so I would be stuck in this room, like the old man. I grabbed the man’s hand and ran out of the silo with him. When we were clear enough away from the silo, we stopped running, and the man told me, “I have been stuck in there for hundreds of years. Thank you, you have freed my soul.” I looked back, and I realized that the silos had disappeared. Then I looked again towards the man, but he was gone as well. So, all I could see were the trees. I looked at one tree in particular; Its leaves were so bountiful, and heavy, that the branches were bending and swaying under their weight. I thought to myself that this was so beautiful I wanted to take a picture. Just then I woke up, and was sad, realizing that I could not take a picture…that no one would ever see what I saw in that dream.
The dream was just as vivid as the world around me right now. Actually, the dream was slightly more vivid than the world around me right now. I have had other dreams just as strange and just as vivid. But the world around me right now seems more strange than any dream…more dulled, softened, and unreal…more mysterious and terrifying…more purposeless and without meaning. My only hope left is to attempt to make the world more like my dreams…to make someone feel more free…to convince someone to trust their gut and to care. Just care. You’re not required to. There’s no law. It doesn’t need to make sense, but you might free an old soul.