Once upon a time there was a poor little boy who had no father and mother; everything was dead and there was no-one left in the whole world. Everthing was quite dead, so he went off, whimpering. All day and all night. And since there was no-one left on earth he decided to go up to heaven where the moon shone down so kind. But when he got to the moon it was a lump of rotten wood. Then he went to the sun, but when he got there it was a withered-up sunflower. And when he got to the stars they were little spangled midges stuck there, like the ones shrikes stick on blackthorns. So he went back to the earth, but the earth was an overturned pot. He was completely alone, and he sat down and cried. He’s sitting there still, all alone.

Content Warning for anyone who chooses to steer clear of works with heavy religious overtones…though I will say it’s intended as more of a commentary on man rather than God and intentionally avoids targeting any singular religion.

Here the idiots go again. Traipsing up the mountainside with some luckless little sheep in tow. An offering to me, they say. Is this really what they think will make me happy? Which ignorant simpleton decided that? The poor lamb…it doesn’t even know what it’s been dragged into. Humans are ridiculous. I never thought that I could be surprised by the idiocy of creatures I created myself. Yet here we are.

I suppose it makes sense, in a way. If someone had created a massive and intricate world for me, I admit I might be curious about them and their motives. But you’d think the curiosity would wane a bit after generations upon generations with no contact or supreme revelations from the creator. Not humans, though. I made them this awesome world, filled it with all the resources they could possibly need to cultivate it and make it their own, and even made them smart enough to do so, and all I expected in return is that they leave me alone. But what do they do instead? Chase after me, pray in those wheedling little voices, make these absurd sacrifices. They beg me for favor, for blessings, victory against their enemies, to be close with me. If I wanted them closer, I wouldn’t have made them their own universe on an entirely separate plane of existence!

I’d give them points for persistence if they weren’t so annoying.

I will admit I do enjoy some of their ideas and theories about me. The humans can be rather imaginative when they wish. There are always those that take it too far, though, like those ones that built the big pyramids in the middle of the desert because they thought I lived among them as their kings. How could I be every king when the next king would be born while one king still sat on the throne? Nonsense. The scholars were an interesting group, as well. They were always thinking up clever new inventions and ideas in everything from architecture to mathematics to politics. When it came to trying to understand me, however, they were far off the mark. After all, why would I want to seduce a human woman? Much less as a swan or an ant or whatever other silliness they devised!

On the other hand, I do prefer their nonsensical ideas about my origins to their ferocity. When I made them so intelligent, I expected the inventions, the poems, songs, and stories, but the savagery was surprising. The humans love violence as much as they love bothering me. As centuries pass and dynasties rise and fall, some declare war in my name and others slaughter their enemies on the steps of their temples as an offering to me. I had hoped my silence might make the bloodshed abate as the people noticed the lack of answer, but it only ever seems to strengthen their resolve. 

The bloodshed makes me tired of this world I created. 

In the grand scheme of things, this ill-fated creature is one of the least gruesome offerings I’ve seen across time. As the humans lay it on that pretentious altar—as if spilling innocent blood will cleanse their stained souls rather than damn them further—the lamb protests in piteous bleats. Not for the first time nor the last, I consider destroying the altar in the hail of fire and brimstone the humans so desperately crave. But I know that confirmation of my existence will only strengthen the acolytes’ already-impressive resolve. So I don’t.

Relax, little lamb. After this, your troubles are over. You’ll have peace and quiet in a place where no one will bother you ever again. For me, on the other hand? They’ll be back tomorrow with their shouting, stomping, dancing, drumming, contradictory murdering.

Creation. Independence. Free will.
What was I thinking?

One of my goals for the year and for this blog was to be able to share more original writing, and I’ve realized it is now August and I haven’t shared anything! Whoops!

So, I figured I’d share an original monologue I wrote a few months ago after doing some (read: too much) reading over the concept of Deism.

The tone of it was partially inspired bythisfavorite monologue of mine, in which an antelope complains about being invited to Simba’s birth!

I’ve also written a few poems I may talk myself into sharing soon, and I’m taking a fiction writing workshop this semester for fun-sies, so hopefully that will help kick me into gear on working on some new original stuff! :)

Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy! && If anyone would like to be put on a taglist for my original work, my ask box and instant messaging are ALWAYS open!

guerrillatech:

Prompt 366

“You play at authority like you rehearse in front of a mirror,” they smoothed the wrinkles out of their jacket with a well-practiced ease. “Some are born into the role they play.”

‘I love everything about her, and I’m not a guy who says that lightly. I am a guy who has faked love his entire life, thought love was just something idiots thought they felt, but this woman has a hold on my heart that I could not break if I wanted to. It has been overwhelming and humbling and even painful at times, but I could not stop loving her any more than I could stop breathing. I am hopelessly, irretrievably in love with her. More than she knows.’

Neil Patrick Harris as Barney Stinson & Cobie Smulders as Robin Scherbatsky

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER(2005-2014)

Ophelia’s Soliloquy in Act 3, Scene 1

“Oh, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!

The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s, eye, tongue, sword;

Th’ expectancy and rose of the fair state,

The glass of fashion and the mold of form,

Th’ observed of all observers — quite, quite down!

And I — of ladies most deject and wretched

That sucked the honey of his music vows —

Now see that noble and most sovereign reason

Like sweet bells jangled out of tune and harsh,

That unmatched form and feature of blown youth

Blasted with ecstasy. Oh, woe is me

T’have seen what I have seen, see what I see!

[Exit Ophelia, Enter Claudius and Polonius.]”

(1st painting, John William Waterhouse - Ophelia)

(2nd painting, Francis Abernathy’s - Ophelia)

Connection Error

I’m frustrated.

I’m mad because I feel like I am around company that fundamentally do not understand me.

Through no fault of their own, it seems every chance we get, we unintentionally miscommunicate and just hurt each other.

I’m mad because every conversation feels like a waste of time. Every chance to speak to find something of value ends up being a pointless and drawn out exercise. Every topic, every idea, leads to something uneventful and unfulfilling.

I am furious because I so badly want to be understood by these people, but perhaps that day will never come.

I am clinging to something that perhaps will never be what I expect it to be.

So why do I stay?

Should I leave? Should I make the final judgement on these people and size them up as just not important enough for me to waste my time?

Is that really the solution? Am I just not running away from what displeases me to protect my own ego?

Or is it me? Am I the problem?

Do I have expectations out of people that are just far too rigid and perhaps that is what is causing me to suffer?

If so, how do I change? Where do I even begin?

.

.

.

What should I do?

ZICO - Balloon

Lyrics:

Just for one day, I’d like to go high

I feel so small, I want to stand tall

There isn’t a particular color I want

I just want to belong somewhere

I’ve already grown so big

but I’m full of sighs I swallow inside

How much of me will be gone tomorrow

Let’s just move on

Whoosh

I’m so helpless

pushed around by the wind

as if I’m flying

Did you let go of me by a mistake

or did you send me flying on purpose

You don’t have to answer

Sometimes I want to be hugged real hard

Someone just pop me in advance

The world is full of edges

and it wants someone to fall right now

When the loud party is over

I’ll be abandoned in pieces

Tears dropping in the opposite direction

Just go back the way you came

Whoosh

I’m so helpless

pushed around by the wind

as if I’m flying

Did you let go of me by a mistake

or did you send me flying on purpose

You don’t need to answer

Exist

—

Sometimes I ask myself

“Do I exist?”

Or is there nothing there

In the spaces between my fingertips

Just a dead stare

And a visible tear

A hole where my heart should be

I find myself through other people

Because my own reality seems feeble

Their thoughts of me seem more real

Than my own thoughts and how I feel

Does anyone out there hear me?

Does anybody out there care?

Or am I just wasting my words

Drowning in this personality game?

I walk to up every single person

To strike up a conversation

With the hidden intent of learning

From them, to tell me about myself

Whether I should be loved or hated

Whether I’m important or worthless

And maybe

Just maybe

If I truly exist

…

Neon Genesis Evangelion - Freedom Scene

Foolish Wisdom

There was a time when I wrote down my thoughts more consistently and I kept track of my daily and weekly reflections.

Nowadays it feels like I have nothing new to say- and it kind of makes me feel like perhaps that is because there has been no new major developments in my life.

The piping hot steel from the forge has finally cooled, and it has solidified into a casted shape after many years in the flame.

Of course this is entirely untrue.

Yet somewhere along the way, it seems as though I had lost my voice- and the willingness to reflect, share, and discuss in great depth the contents of the new lessons I have learned in the past few years had been less of a priority than had been before.

Perhaps because a lot of what I have learned during the recent years had less to do with theories and abstract ideas from books or insights, and had more to do with things having to be learnt through the bitter taste of experience.

A good portion of my years from my late teens to my early 20’s had been about philosophical inquiry, and re-evaluation of belief, identity, and purpose through reflection- but it seems as though many things in life cannot simply be learned through insight- that life ultimately requires us to participate, and we do not have the luxury of time to wait for when our lives will really begin.

If there are some nuggets of wisdom I had hoped to share since the last time I wrote anything here, I guess it would be:

1) Question everything, but decide on something

2) Anything worth doing, is worth doing- even if done badly in the beginning

3) Do not let hate, jealousy, and conceit turn you bitter, resentful, and cruel

4) Life has a way of making everyone out to be fools… so

5) Find a way to understand people’s pain rather than judge them, to prevent your own further suffering

6) Learn to fail, so you do not fail to learn

7) Understand that whatever you define yourself to be, is most likely not what you actually are

8) The world doesn’t owe you a thing, so find ways to consistently be grateful that it is ever any good at all

9) Once we dispel our own illusions, we are all naked, vulnerable, and ignorant

10) What you resist will persist, and the thing you need is in the place you don’t want to look

11) Be careful to not take your own opinions and views about the world as fact

12) In a world filled with undeniable evil, pain, and suffering, ideals that reflect true compassion, love, and good-will towards others is never overrated

13) Do not let cynicism fool you as wisdom, however..

14) The fool is the precursor to the savior- learn to be a fool, for the fool can learn to be wise through his folly

15) Everything written here is incomplete, and is subject to change

Existentialism & The Internet