Life, in its unadorned bare form, is a terrifying, crazy,
chaotic, whelming essence.
Nobody addresses that directly too much. We just go
through the motions and ignore the dragon in the room.
As a result of how scary and demanding life is, we see
that without a sense of purpose, a mission, a code, or
other motivation, things are pretty unbearable. Whether
it's a conscious recognition or a conscious choice, we find
ourselves drawn over and over to anything we can apply
significance to or denote pleasure from.
It's probably a subliminal preemptive strike, a sense of
self-survival asserting itself, to seek out connection and
focus on nice things, our hobbies, our desires, our seeming
connections. Some natural DNA-level code for creating a
sense of 'better' so that all the horrible realities are kept
at bay.
A self-medicating, self-induced delusion to keep us from
going psychotic. Because, when you look into the Void,
it's difficult to come back from it. What is seen and known
is extremely difficult to purge; it's difficult, if not impossible,
to go back to ignorance and bliss.
We gravitate to the soothing, even if subconsciously we
know it's insignificant, or filler, or low-brow, or subjective.
We need a break from the chaos. It's in us to seek healing,
sustenance, and calming, whether through music, sports,
religion, dating, marriage, or other externals.
There are a myriad of directions to go with the things we
fill our lives with; church, work, politics, lovers, spouses,
children, projects, hobbies, relaxation, play. Belief systems,
causes, a life of service to many. Darker interests, too,
like drugs, gambling, self-sabotage, secret or risky sexual
encounters, danger, angry outbursts, cons, and the like.
We build a web of activities and supposedly solid connections
that serve as (the idea of) insulation and cushioning.
But for those who see the artifice for what it is, and cannot
embrace the distraction, nor find sufficient purpose, the impact
of lessened connectivity is tiring and whelming.
When you aren't adept at interacting or networking or
pretending or game playing, it makes averting your eyes
from the Abyss difficult indeed.
All of our pretty story lines provide quite the anaesthesia.
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Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Fiction is Good for the Soul
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