Thursday, January 13, 2011

an idea

Today, I saw a young girl. She appeared calm on the outside. Controlled, collected. Not calm enough, however, to not bring up a "boy issue" she was currently facing. The issue wasn't an issue. The issue wasn't even a conundrum. The solution was simple. Yet she stressed, and worried, and pondered.

When does life sweep toward the difficult? When does life make that switch from the dramatic to the truly difficult. These questions cannot be answered universally, for the answer is different for us individually.

Recently, I had a conversation with a person I am very close to. She explained that everybody feels the same things, just in different perspectives. Different situations. We cannot compare them, and the reasons don't matter. The feelings are the same. You can't say your feeling or hurt was greater than another's, because it is impossible to put feelings into words. Words are abstract, feelings are the only things that are real. It is impossible to feel what another is feeling. We can think that we know, we can hope. We can feel that we know, but we can't ever really know.

On that note, can we ever truly know anything? How do I know my experiences are real? How do I know that everyone around me isn't just a projection of myself, of different parts of me. I see problems in others, because I recognize them in myself. I know what you're going through because I've been there...Isn't that always the way? We can't be empathetic to something we know nothing about. We can pretend to feel sympathy. We can pretend we are hurting right along with that person, but it is never to the extent of the other.

In the end, everybody is always looking out for number one. You have to feel right in order for you to see right in others. You have to be happy to recognize happiness in others. People trying to change the world, often times only end up changing themselves.

Are constants ever good? Anything sitting in one place for too long collects dust. Glass gets more blurry. Crisp becomes faded.

The world needs change. Not so much change, but growth. Everything in the universe is a cycle. It grows, it dies. It is absurd to believe that people should not change. It is absurd to believe that people should change according to your standards.

There will always be the issue of right and wrong. Good and evil. Black and white.

These definitions were decided by a man. We respectfully follow, for the simple fact of understanding. Contemplating a situation. We all universally know things and can follow a conversation because of it.

What if my definitions are different? What if I believe there is no such thing as right or wrong, and only a matter of opinion?

And if they are different, how did they arise when everyone around me is the same? Influenced by society? Why do I feel out of place with my entire environment, and surroundings.

Are certain people meant for more than others? One person doesn't deserve more than anyone else. No one has lived the life of a saint, and we never know the amount of fuck ups a person has in comparison to their acts of kindness. But we judge all the time.

I am always conflicted with the idea that.... our brains work a certain way. That's just how it is. When society and environment and populations come into play, they are controlled by the limitations of the brain. We can't control a functioning society any other way than we know how. And we know how because of how our brains work. Everything in this entire universe, everything in creation, everything we feel we know, everyone around us....Could all be in our heads. And if it's outside of us, we can't ever be sure of it at all. And if we are limited, and can still create and do so many things in society....What are our possibilities?

If everything we know is controlled by our minds....Because all perspective comes from the brain...
Can our possibilities...Can the universe truly be endless...when that idea is too much for us to wrap our minds around? How can there be more than what we are capable of knowing there to be if we can't ever know it, how do we know that there is? How can we imagine something that doesn't exist and believe it to be real?

We don't remember to fathom. We don't think we should imagine. We don't plan to believe.

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