dissatisfaction (insane rant)

by Eman

You get this feeling, a general atmosphere, that we are all waiting for something catastrophic to happen. I don’t know if this is just me or more people feel this way, but there is this sense that we’re all just treading water and silently accepting the state of things because we know we are materially well off and we know it is unsustainable so we want to enjoy it while we can, but we also know that there will be a tipping point. We are not prepared, intellectually or psychologically to deal with that, to deal with a break from what we have. We haven’t created any ideology to soften the blow. Society will not be able to carry us when that happens. When drastic change is required out of pure necessity (and not the will of a growling few like myself), where will we be?

And aren’t you sick of living in something temporary? Your entire life feels temporary. Everything you do seems pointless and just an end unto itself. You’re not building anything permanent – if you’re building anything at all. Your entire world feels like a meticulously set up play where all the actors are so good at what they do that they sometimes forget that the characters and the plot are not real. But every now and then they catch a glimpse of the light reflecting off the puppet strings and the transparency and absurdity of the whole charade is revealed. That light is blinding.

How can we get off the stage and create something that has meaning for us, instead of accepting our embedment in a place where we constantly feel like strangers? You are a stranger because you’re always either two steps ahead or one step behind, and nothing you say or do actually fits and you’re out of synch with your surroundings. And with that feeling, where do you go? Where do you run off to?  Because this is your only home, but it doesn’t even feel like it, it doesn’t fit you because even though it created you, you were like its a Frankenstein’s monster. You’re just a mishmash of different parts that don’t go well together, that don’t go well with the environment, so you just walk around like an aimless zombie, not knowing where to go. This is your only home so where do you go? You’ll never be accepted anywhere else because you’re a stranger there just like you are here. You become a creature divorced from time and space, always marked by some indistinctive but highly palpable otherness. The only peaceful end I can see is a complete suicide of the self.

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