Disappointed
I gotta say, I've been a little disappointed in some ways during the last month or so. Mostly with the universe, but just today in humanity some too. As if it weren't hard enough to lead our lives in the cold desolation of outer space, our only respite being a thin veil of air daintily swirling around the big rock we call earth, as if life weren't already akin to being strapped immobile in the back seat of a pinto with a mad frothing drunk driver at the wheel hurtling down a poorly lit and rainy highway at night, apparently there also have to be other people who find pleasure in breaking our windows. So very inside themselves and alone in their mundane hurt, that they somehow forget, in the most sociopathic sense possible, that every other person is going through the exact same ordeal, called life, that they are. And that for this reason, because we share so much of the human experience, other people are the best release from that exact suffering that drove them to roll down the street in a grey SUV and shoot a bee-bee gun into the parked jeep's back window. The quintessence, the fifth element, is clearly other people, not the void, and not selfish destruction. There is already enough chaos and entropy. Where's the joy in something so base and easy? How can someone look inside oneself and really find nothing. Now, this is, in a way, where my deeply held nihilistic beliefs seem to break down. I like other people. Is it just conditioning, and playing the game to get what's best for me? Is it genetic? Can my complete adoration and indeed insatiable need for human interaction really just be calculated and balanced between nature and nurture? Probably. Previously I was much more certain of this, but things change; perspective is, of course, truth, and I don't mind reevaluating myself now and then, just to make sure. At any rate, as for the glass-smashing vandals, I hope they were young. Very young. And I hope they grow up soon. Very soon.