| Death.
I sit here with so many thoughts running so randomly, in my head. Not random thoughts… rather, an organized theory and belief system of doubts charging with intensity- waiting to break out in raging rhetoric and force. Some may have already heard me- read on for pages or listened through endless discussion, of my convictions. I can’t stop until I am actually HEARD. I mean heard with an undeniable comprehension of forthright being. I don’t know if anyone understands this. What I hold as my most esteemed deliberation is that a belief should not be comforted by the pacified “I think”s and “In my opinion”s. An opinion is the personality, the being, the sole characteristic and not some flighty and quickly conjured idea. It should be discussed with confidence and without fear of infamy from the observer or receivers. No matter how strong an opinion, it can always be retracted and altered, so speak with belief that you are right but that there is room for doubt.
My aunt is dying. It has been some time since a member of the family has passed by means other than long life. She has cancer and it has spread, she has many tumors, one which is growing in her brain. She is to pass tonight, and my mother and all the other Ramos sisters will fly to her hospital-bedside and hold her hand until she finally rests. It is truly and emotional and life changing event. It hurts me to speak about it but I feel my mind bursting with a theoretical vs. familial right and wrongs. I cannot help but feel for my mother and feel for the rest of her sisters and brothers. I feel this and I feel that but my mind, my creed, brings me back from crying. I feel as if I have forever placed my mind in a cold and sterile world of logic. Logic has killed, has murdered, the innocence in myself, and of course others, but I have come to the conclusion that living in optimism is living in childhood. There is no progress, true advancement in the field of rye. Do I sound so dramatic as to assume that all assumptions, that logic is the perpetrator, from hormonal emotion? No. I at first found that hormones control it all and then discovered the layer of hidden meaning, wrapped in an intricate weave to be analyzed. It is so complex, that only through experience will you truly grasp the essence of this idea. Ignorance, tradition, convention, and emotions tie you, bind you, blind you. Ignorance is truly bliss but to live a life of conformity to that which I already know is misleading is a wasted life. Live in pure truths and suffer it all to die on a principle.
Death happens and it is not the entrance to an eternal paradise. The only delight of man lives in the mind and was born in childhood and carried on in ignorance. Live life to its fullest. So, life, in those words, has so much to offer that we should take advantage of it while we’re here? Life is full of ignorant men suffering the world through wars and pestilence. Get peace through violence? An interesting mistake, but in that paradox, the only way that allows man to go on. Imagine a world of love and peace, the entire Hippie illusion and delusion. No progress, no truths, no substance. Do we really live up to life’s gifts through THAT? Of course not, so the phrase must be distorted. Live life happily and never learn.
My principle is strong. Use your time to reach a climax, in that, develop yourself. Strive, dig deep- as deep as you can ever get, consume all knowledge ( that which you presume worthy ) and through this you will learn that you will want nothing but to be held back from taking your life from this waste of time span. That is, to love.
Why do I slip love into the logic picture? Because it is the most logical thing, to love. Before I was completely against it, which is a different estimation that I have written of in the past. It is not the romantic in me, it is this… love keeps you on your feet, stable, and breathing at a pace. It is no sort of codependency, conditioning, or even influence of media and stories. I live my own story, and I proved myself wrong. Love can make you a genius. This is no THING to be impressed upon a single person, it is to simply happen in the course of a life and to be kept and cared for. Sure love may only be some hormones and chemical reactions, synapses and fluids but why ignore it?
I am not afraid of death, rather I am afraid of losing the one I love to it. I would look death straight in the face and smile if he held my hand today. It is such a thing to say but it is completely, in its humblest forms, a reality I feel sorry for myself to admit. “Life is like a box of chocolates,” no shit. We all know the types of chocolates that are in chocolate boxes, don’t we. There are even labels sometimes. We just like to be surprised. LIFE IS A SERIES OF REPEATING OCCURANCES. It’s a huge disappointment after years of fairy and tall tales.
If you don’t believe what I am saying, read The Bet, by Anton Chekhov. Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy. The Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton. Catcher in the Rye, by JD Salinger. Read Thoreau, WEB Du bois, or better yet ask the wisest person you know of their story and ask if they’re truly happy. See if those reason are justified through blindness. Their stories, found in their own experiences, their realities are not my delusion. It is not to be gothic or even dark to imagine a world with little delights. Who ever said the enlightened were that intelligent because they were happy.
"The journey of a thousand miles sometimes ends very, very badly."
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