It's all pointless, isn't it? Even those words, scattered across the white page of this draft, just sounds into the indifferent void. I can't even strictly outline what the feeling resembles - is it hate? Anger? Anguish? I think it falls mostly among the lines of indifference. One big, long, wide plateau of pointlessness. Pointlessness and meaninglessness. What is there to hate or be angry about? Isn't hate, anger, just a byproduct of our established understandings, perception of the world, coming into conflict due to something escaping that pattern and remaining unclassified? Murder, rape, torture, greed, hunger, jealousy, some of the many shades of the human species, nuances mingling into the business of the black and white, turning it all into shades of grey.
It's all pointless, isn't it? But that's such a wildly opposed belief in this day and age. How dare I say it's all pointless at the peak of human evolution, technological progress and scientific advance? A day and age of freedom, of self-expression, of oneness and unity, of crushing down barriers and walls and extending a hand to the creature, the human being, making them stand tall, as one, for our differences make us stronger. And at this bright peak, the built up culmination of years of struggle, of post-war recovery, of healing the wounds and putting our demons to rest, where trumpets' sound flies high, signifying and underlining our progress, at this bright peak it all seems to crumble to dust. For all the achievements of the human species are wildly subjective and the opinions from around the world differ. Unfortunately, that doesn't quite fit the narrative, it's the 21st century, we've descended from the trees, walked out of the jungles, abandoned our tribal instinct, put the wars aside and built together, trying to find our place amongst the stars.
It's all pointless, isn't it? Einstein has said, "Technological progress is like an axe in the hands of a pathological criminal", perfect analogy to the stormy past, the bumpy path of humanity's evolution. It's not hard to see how much has been achieved since the last World War, we crushed down walls, we sent humans to other worlds, we've come together to help each other in the darkest hours when nations were hurting, for we all share this beautiful planet and it's our duty to help and protect each other, to stand up for the voiceless and fight injustice. But things are often not as simple as they seem.
It's all pointless, isn't it? We put so much meaning into life itself, into living, so fearful of its fragility, its impermanence. We've built entire systems, safeguards, beliefs, with the only idea of salvation, of another life after this one, squeezing hard onto our pathetic existence, drinking up all the promises of a Buddhist reincarnation, of becoming one with the Brahma, hoping, praying, at the hour of reckoning, for the mercy of the judge who, like Anubis, would measure one's life against the Ma'at. So full of worship, of adoration, of hope that our existence is worthy of the afterlife, we forget about the life before the afterlife, how fragile and impermanent it is, fleeting, passing, as the inexhaustible flow of time keeps ticking away. Tick, tock, tick, tock.
It's all pointless, isn't it? The Doomsday Clock's arms keep reaching, trying to get a hold of the final hour, to choke it out and stiff its flame. Tick, tock. It's the 21st century. Mankind's peak. And yet, the Cold War, the one war that never ended, seemed like the best alternative. The final song of the rockets, a blessed liturgy echoing through the night sky, a few seconds of Enlightenment, the beauty of Genesis as the mushrooms grow to the complete and utter dissolvement to atoms, "for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return". That surely sounds like a grim way to look at it.
It's all pointless, isn't it? Tick, tock. It's the 21st century. Century full of hopes, century of healing, century of looking into the future with the bulwark of lessons learned from the past. Tick, tock. It's the 21st century and a lot of people will disagree. For mankind's progress is nothing more but a farce, the logical outcome of an evolutionary branch, an experiment, a lucky combination of a bunch of DNA that nature somehow managed to stitch up together. Hundreds of thousands of years of moving forward and building up a society, improving the species, securing our foothold as an evolutionary miracle. Hundreds of thousands of years wasted away as we descend into the dystopian, crooked reality.
It's all pointless, isn't it? Hell's empty and the demons wander the earth. Even Dante's circles wouldn't be enough to keep us all locked up, to gather all the scum that slowly suffocates mankind, to lock it away, the arm of the assailant shutting up the cry of the victim. As much as reason, as a byproduct of conscience, wants us to believe otherwise, our moral compass goes only as far and as long as our ego isn't being questioned. We're the apex predator, the ultimate conqueror of the land and the sea, the being that extended itself to shield its weaknesses and dive into the depth of the big black cosmos, we became the Gods in the mercy of whom we showered. We Were. We Are. We will Be. So proud and independent, Icarus' wings wouldn't be worthy of us. And yet, our moral compass stumbles and stutters as soon as something doesn't match that divine image. Who cares about the whales wandering the blue ocean, the ones who can no longer hear the song because of the sound pollution? Who cares about the ice caps slowly melting away and leaving Earth unprotected to the harmful solar radiation? Who cares about the countless living things, left without a home in the deforestation or the same ones forced to drown in the oil spills? Who cares about the man thrown off a roof simply because he loved another man? Who cares about the woman scolded and whipped for being born the wrong gender? Who cares about the song of death the bombs sing as they devour hospital buildings? Who cares about the dead bodies left in the street, lives taken away in a foreign place, on a foreign street? Who cares about the people locked away in camps, forced against their will simply because they hold a different belief? Who cares about the man whose judge judged him for being born the wrong color?
It's all pointless, isn't it? The overwhelming hypocrisy, the stone cast by the sinner, the hunger and greed that's grasped the hearts, the anti-intellectualism seething among the echo chambers of society, the festering desire not to be right, but to not be wrong. Homo Sapiens. A species that overcame and led the evolution, but still, just a species nonetheless. A species that made a home in labels, a species that takes pride in the absolute randomness of chance as if that's their greatest achievement. Homo Sapiens. A species that twists and turns all the lessons of the wise, of the elders, a species so corrupted of hatred and so blind of the irony in drawing a border between Us and Them. A species. Just a species, among other species, nothing more but a branch of evolution that will eventually meet its final blossom.
It's all pointless. Can't be angry. Can't be sad. It's all indifference and apathy for how hard it's become to combat all that ignorance and greed. Heard a joke once: Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says, "Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up." Man bursts into tears. Says, "But doctor...I am Pagliacci.”
Link to: Diary of a Lunatic, pt. 2
