I don't want to go to Hell, but if I do, it will be because of you
Should we revel in the insanity of life, or try to achieve some twisted kind of normality?
Should we embrace change, or find our perfect niche and be content with what we have?
For a long time, I have been aiming for the latter of those two questions. Aiming to be accepted in a way, to find a place and situation where I just slot into place, in friendship, in my family, in society. To find people that I can be on the same wavelength as, people I can relate to, and learn from. To attain a reputation of high standing, to be respected, to be appreciated, to be taken for granted. In reality though, what do I want? I want to be the acceptor, to be the person that everyone else wants to please, to be respected by. I want to not have to compromise in any way, to be admired, and appreciated for who I already am. No one is an acceptor. Yet from the outside, everyone but yourself seems that way. Human nature is, that we all strain and struggle for someone to just say "You are wonderful" and mean it. Because no one does, however much they believe it. We all have flaws, and whilst that isn't a bad thing, it can't make someone wonderful all the time.
A few weeks ago, someone told me I was a good person. I never did find out what that meant. I'm selfish, and rude, and I care much more about the impression I portray to people, than actually helping them. I will maintain my honesty for purely egotistical reasons, not because I believe it will actually help you, but because I have a standard, and a reputation I want to keep. I'm hot headed and violent, or calm and calculating. I drink too much, and I work too little. I hate doing people favours, but I expect to receive them.I give to receive, and I scream to be heard.
Yet that describes every person I have ever met. So how do you differentiate between a good and a bad person? In my opinion, there is no difference. We all do things to make us feel good, or to achieve some supreme reward at the end, be that a promotion at work or a pay rise, acceptance and appreciation from friends, the return of a favour, or the avoidance of Hell. Religion is undoubtably the worst sin of all. It acts as a spoon fed excuse for anything you could ever do, and more importantly, it is limiting to life. Instead of following your own ambitions and ideals, you yearn for someone else's. I wish people would make their own future. We all have our own ideas about what constitutes a good person, and I do believe that the Ten Commandments are our basis for that. Without religion ever existing, they still would be. They just state the fucking obvious.
Although how obvious are they? We think if someone is a murderer, then they are a bad person, but there are so many other things to be taken into account. Before even looking at the aspects of self defence and war. War.. something which does bewilder me. Murder is illegal unless you do it to improve the government's position. Well, what if you have your own war, for your beliefs, for your needs? Surely that should allow you to act in the same way as the government?
Some of you may know that I do have my own personal war. I have even contemplated murder, not in the light, joking way of most people, but in a genuine scheming, rational way. So, am I therefore a good person, or has your opinion changed? The fact that I haven't killed him, is again, for selfish reasons. I don't want this person to have taken away even more from me, especially not by his death. That would be his ultimate victory, and I would never allow that. I always have to win. Just like everyone else.
So perhaps we should embrace the lack of normality in this world, the fact that nothing is definite and clear cut, but that we ourselves are as changeable as the world around us. But we don't embrace that. We aim to achieve a routine, a structure, a role. So much so that we are no longer whimsical and spontaneous, something which to me shows the true state of life. Whilst I enjoy my life now, it is a Groundhog day, constantly repeating, with slight differences and variations, but utterly monotonous. Life seems to be about creating the perfect day, and letting that repeat over and over until the day you die. And depression? The inability to even imagine the perfect day, let alone create it.
Whenever I think about things like this, my mind yearns to be different, to escape from this rigid path of life we supposedly choose. I still have my whimsical ideas of how to change things, and therefore for me, all is not lost. "Hare brained ideas" in reality, just separate the living from the dead. So each day I aim to do something I have never done before, not necessarily something outrageous, the stiffness of my life will not always allow that. But something that makes me still feel like I have a chance, a hope.