I sometimes do not respect humanity. As such I can't bring myself to value its futile efforts to explain processes and occurrences beyond its ability to comprehend. Perhaps it's because I'm impatient, resentful that I wasn't born into a more evolved body. I often hate my body, not because I'm shorter than I am or that I'm losing my hair. I hate the actual physicality of it, that it's bound my matter. There is one distinction that humans fail to recognise and that is the basic differentiation between the brain and mind, material versus metaphysical. We attempt at a series of experimentation to draw a relationship but what our science doesn't take into account is immaterial explanation. So little we understand about the Universe, that in order for our metaphysical entity to exist in the form of conscience, that it must somehow be bound to our bodily organs. It is the need for logical clarification that innate within all of us that causes my imperishable frustration.
I may be what is commonly considered as insane. Within me rages a war of aliens. For reasons beyond me, my mind is a separate entity of superior capabilities when compared to the rest of my being. It looks down upon, pities and despises my human components, almost as it belongs to a more advanced lifeform previously, as though it had tasted a far greater excellence before I even came into consciousness. From a young age I used to tell my family that I was a Martian prince, that I had been exchanged with my parent's son at birth. Perhaps my subconscious has been teasing and ridiculing the primate in me for decades. As I developed further, my mind had grown attached to mockery. Through it I can taste glimpses of human potential, as if it was dragging the rest of my entity along for the ride. All my life I have never seriously practiced anything. Never studied or expended more effort than was necessary to complete the series of trifles that have gotten me thus far. But I've seen what the mind can do. It's a master key to an endless sea of dimensionality. Behind each door is unbounded possibilities, the very ability to manipulate matter and energy in themselves, the omnipotence to orchestrate everything that exists. And we this I see how helpless we humans are to not only utilise said gifts but just to merely understand them. Even now as I write I feel the rage swelling within me. Dozens of thoughts stacked on top of one another, slip out of my grasp as I race with complete and utter failure to write them down.
I often feel ill, that I have gone insane in my efforts to further understand purpose in a way that my predecessors have failed to do. As I ponder my inhibitions a familiar phrase become evanescent to me: 'you've lost your mind.' Funny how we've chosen to describe a status in such a way. I can see now how the phrase has developed in the same primitive absence of understanding always ever-present. I haven't lost my mind, I've found it. I recognise it as separate within me, and it finds amusement in taking me places I don't want to go. And that statement begs the question: 'what is sanity?' Is it merely a measurement of normality or could it more appropriately refer to a form of sedation. A form of disbelief and astonishment clouded by the realisation that we are naturally incapable of understanding the composition of our own being. I think that a far more likely explanation. This brings my train of thought to yet another common phrase: 'ignorance is bliss.' People often admire intelligence. They see it as something to aspire towards. But again we're met with another grave misapprehension. Perhaps the word I hold the utmost distaste for in the English language is the word: 'smart.' It has far too many meanings and is largely responsible for the present misunderstanding. Smart is commonly used to describe people that excel in academia, when in reality what that really implies is that someone is proficient at believing what others tell them. Those who are truly smart are the ones who choose to first reject said teachings only to later uncover the truth for themselves. This is the reason for the current degeneration of learning. Our entire education system is based on this concept, which is breeding generations of humans who are literally incapable of thinking for themselves. They understand only how to follow. The truth is people don't really desire intelligence... because intelligence is unkind. It's not something you can learn; you can't study to acquire it - it's derived from the hand that you were dealt in life and it's coincidentally comprised of more than one entity, forged by the relationship between one's brain and mind. The mind's capacity to perform elevated nicking and the brain's efficiency in articulating those thoughts. This is why if left to me, I would abolish the exhausted term 'smart' from the English language, and leave only the option of intelligence or knowledge. To be knowledgeable is to devote time and study to the acquisition of information which will subsequently aid one in his/her quest to unveiling life's mysteries, but never raises potential beyond nature's boundaries. This again brings us back to our original dilemma, that intelligence is cruel, that people do not truly desire great intellect. If they had it they would quickly come to the realisation that in this world it is an endless cycle of disappointment, malcontent and resentment.
Allow me to attempt an explanation, although I'm certain it will be inadequate. Even if I dedicated a huge amount of time to studying language so that I may better conjure the vocabulary to present more suitable imagery, my efforts would be light-years from the truth. Imagine a valley surrounded by dazzling, mountainous terrains. At the base of this valley is the most tranquil plane your mind can possibly perceive. Lush, beautiful green grass carpets the land, each blade of it flourishing with the wonder that is the miracle of life. The denizens of this valley are not people, not animals or machines, but flowers. Flowers as far as the eyes can see. Some tall, some just sprouting from the nutritious, fertile soil. This valley is the most graceful place on the entire planet. The very sight of it brings you overwhelming joy, it's truly angelic. At its very centre is but a single tree, very tall, strong and unyielding. Imagine that you are this tree and all the flowers of the field are your brothers and sisters in life, born of the same starlight and water and blessed with the most beautiful home you could ask for. They look up to you and your glorious stature for you are the exception. You've grown far beyond what they've imagined possible. Your sheer size is an accomplishment they will never amount to. Over time your stature becomes greater as does your magnificence. To the flowers' astonishment they encourage you to go further, to never stop, to be all that you can be. You absorb their confidence in you, swallow it, provides you with blissful nourishment as your trunk continues to grow towards the stars. One day you become so wondrously large that from atop your canopy you can see the very tops of the mountains that encircle your heavenly valley, and beyond. To your great dismay where you glance to seek more splendour beyond the confines of your valley, your hopeful enthusiasm is greeted by an inexplicable anguish. For the first time in your life you begin to know true sorrow. All the joy and stardom you enjoyed as a sapling cannot amount to the grief you now understand, because in your grand ascendance you're rewarded with the realisation that beyond your valley exists only void - darkness where light dare not tread. In your heart you've never felt a greater longing, you hope for all that is great and green that this nothingness remains stagnant. But before the though even crosses your mind you've already seen it transgress. It expands, it grows and soon it will consume your valley and destroy all the beauty and life that you know and nothing will remain. Because you are exceptional, because you grew to such heights you are tasked with not only the realisation that this will inevitably happen, but you must decide whether or not to tell your brothers and sisters in the valley of this impending doom, or to bear the burden alone for the rest of your life, until it takes you. If you tell them they will suffer for a untold amount of time before their world comes to an end and would not know how or why this would happen. Yet nature reminds you that this is your duty. That because you were given the gift of sight it is your responsibility to share it with the rest of the valley. If you choose to warn them that the darkness will engulf all that you know, you lack the knowledge of how to articulate with communication they will comprehend. This is the contemplation you suffer today. The price of extraordinary selection. Against your will you've been burdened with this task and you choose to suffer it alone because the truth is, they'll perish before the void reaches them and will remain oblivious to their fate. For in your abstinence you are in fact exercising the ultimate compassion, a trade. Mediocrity for ignorance. Burden for bliss. This is what it means to be aware, to be intelligent. No one wants to be that tree, because there is no happy ending, no matter what you choose.
Perhaps I am just insane, but I accept who I am, I don't hide from it. I am mentally unstable because I recognise that to be thoughtful is to be unstable. To deny these things is to deny the purity of oneself and there is no greater fallacy in life than to belay the course of that path. I'm not proud of who I am. Living my life is like filling a glass with a hole at the bottom. I'll never be able to unravel the mysteries of life because the greatest mystery of all is understanding thyself. Just like my country there lies the perpetual effort to create a perfect union of the entity, albeit the task is impossible, which is why we will never witness human potential. Only riddled with the idea that it is far greater than what we are. I use to write, I use to approach the endeavour with greater vigour, try to explain to people what's really happening around us and that I saw the void so I decided to stop. The only question is what will be left when we're all gone..
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