Friday, December 16, 2005

It is getting warm in my heart. I may have found something to stick onto. My mind is free of predicaments. It has nothing else to worry about. It has acquired a melancholic feeling of boredom. I know now that boredom is the agony of this mind. I know that I need amusement, whether it be a clown performing or another committing suicide. I need to keep this mind occupied at all times with sorrow, hope, vengeance, pain or in other words a perpetual state of fatal happiness. I say fatal, because that is the paradox of happiness. It has a glamorous view from outside and yet a static boredom within. This boredom is so strong that will always force you to look for yet another happy state to live in. It is fatal because it ends itself without any effort or desire from your side. Its essence is lost slowly as you enter it. Its purpose for existence is forgotten once within it. Once you leave it, nothing is left in you but the memory of its glamour at first sight.

This constant struggle of the mind to achieve a happy state is quite strange. This malady of the mind has one cure. Suicide of the mind, mon cher. Death of the mind is the cure. Only death will stop the mind from wondering. Not because it relinquishes conscience, but it puts the mind in a perpetual state of indifference. There is a hidden resilience in indifference. One that will help man bear any condition.

I believe I have found a way to absolute indifference; it is complete acceptance. Yes my friend, what you're thinking is right. Your cat at home doesn't experience your existential crisis anymore. He's well beyond that. Merely because he's learned to accept his condition. He is man’s Sisyphus. Accepting man’s condition is in essence man’s absolute victory over the absurd human condition.

Acceptance of sorrow is the ultimate stage of acceptance. It is then that man achieves absolute pleasure, because only then sorrow turns into a never-ending pleasure. It is then that man will achieve a concious state of constant happiness. It is then that man not only accepts the human condition, but also learns to love it. It's also when death becomes the most extraordinary experience of life; one that man can look forward to. Merely because death alone becomes the only experience which wouldn’t need any acceptance, once being experienced. It is the escaping point from the human condition. It is the moment where the stone stops on top of the hill for Sisyphus.


Anonymous cristina said...

there was an invitation to dispel my utmost truth... today i thought for a moment that maybe, despite my desires (which always have a way of leading me astray and then back again), i am supposed to be a locked treasure box, that i am supposed to hold all this within until an undetermined future event. but, well, i'm always changing my mind, so i'll first share my awe in the way you speak- so much like my own thoughts but shared so obviously by an older male with a better grasp of language. my curse is that my best thoughts sound cheap when put to words. i especially appreciate it because based on my own devious lover (and my intricately paranoid fantasy world) i sometimes believe that men are super human, or at least have some control over thought and perception that i don't. sometimes i lose faith in the shared human struggle, sometimes i think others are just playing reality instead of torturing themselves just to get along in it- that's fatal, makes me go cold, and you've spared me that tonight... as for this recent entry i can't agree with you more. i'm always trying to outrun my thoughts. i can be obsessed with making my mind beautiful and pure. (of course, my ideas of beauty have expanded into cruelty and morbidness since childhood which confounds things more than a little). i sometimes catch that light of bliss, and i panic. i want to capture it, fold it up in words, test it against my memory, and i kill it quickly and violently. anyway, nice to meet you.

9:35 PM  

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