The unanswerable question

"Why??!!"

 She yelled at the top of her lungs, not paying attention to the rain falling upon her forcefully, almost as if some hidden power was trying to silence her. "Why???!!" she insisted.

But no answer came, there was no possibility of an answer to come for there was no one there on that rooftop but her. She looked at the cloudy sky trying to peer through the fierce rain, wind blowing in her face making every breath that much harder.

"I can't know! Why can't i know!"

The sky roared at her as she looked at it defiantly while panting hysterically.

" I have this..... consciousness. Which was enforced upon me through no choice of my own and then I have to deal with it. I have to listen to it constantly picking at the one question. The one question that drove many a man into MADNESS!"

She kept yelling at the sky without a soul to hear her. She yelled and waved and jumped frantically.

"I can know anything!" she held out her phone, a single light shone from it in the empty darkness that encompassed her.

"look here" she said holding up to the sky "I can get any answer to anything, on anything, any time! but not that question, I've searched and searched and searched..... I CAN'T FIND IT!"

She throw her phone off the building and watched the light getting dimmer and dimmer as it sank into the darkness of the street.

"I'm going to know, you can't stop me from knowing. The question will be answered, nothing else interest me, nothing gives me satisfaction!"

She stood on the ledge, she didn't even catch her breath to think. She leaned over and turned around to look at the sky, the fall was deep and she felt the rain pouring on her as the wind howled in her ears. "I will know...." was the last word she uttered.

 

Hypotheticisim

Hypotheticisim

By definition, the word Hypotheticism refers to a psychological compulsion of existing in and experiencing the hypothetical rather than the real moment.

I started, dear reader, a little bit dryly in this piece… a random definition of a non-existent illness. Well, excuse my impatience because this which I’m about to tell hasn’t been spoken about, written about or talked about. There is a reason behind it… there is a reason why many people live in the future rather the present.

Those of us who have been blessed with intelligence, suffer from a bliss that is blissfully insufferable. To have that cognitive powers to rely on, sometimes can be priceless. The intellectuals often find themselves owing the smooth navigation in life to their intellect and intellect only. It’s like a net upon which one can very trustingly fall. You simply close your eyes and listen to the majestic brain which inhibits that vessels of a body and it tells you exactly how to survive. It’s nothing less than marvelous. However there is a downfall to that beautiful machine… tediousness.

You see, dear reader, the brain, specifically the intelligent brain, can’t be stopped from computing. It’s always turning thoughts up and down, in an out. If there is an input it takes that input and analyses it to the point beyond raw data. That input becomes chewed up pieces of knowledge floating gently upon the sea that never rests. And if there is no input…….the brain just turn against its self and starts masticating information from within but soon finds that it’s not enough…. The tediousness of now overwhelms it so it starts to draw…. Draw the future.

Millions and thousands of millions of hypothetical situations runs through the brain of the intellectual. Every second branches into different world in which endless scenarios play out differently and in more interesting ways each time. And suddenly the brain finds its self with endless information to feed on. Endless yes… but non-existent. And that endlessness of information creates an addiction, an addiction that can’t be matched by any amount of actual information.. why settle for the finite when the infinite stands right there.

But that’s not where it stops, the brain tortures the intellectual with the massive amount of information until the intellectual feels like they need to silence it. Be it by bottle, substance or simply human interaction… it needs to be silenced before madness befalls them.

But the brain, the devious masterful crafty brain, it can’t be stopped. Even if you meet someone that brain of yours takes the info they give you and tries to construct a hypothetical situation in which your life consists of that information which they have provided. And thus you start throwing yourself in their shoes, feeling their pain, experiencing their very last thought in a raw sense that is beyond human capability. But it matters not to him, to the brain, as long as it’s fed, your emotions are yours to deal with and he won’t help you therewith.

That’s how Hypotheticisim is born.  The brain gets addicted to information and starts to masticate any information it can get its hands on. Be it real or not.

Many around us live with it without even being aware of it themselves, it drives them crazy and they don’t know why. They just feel an endless unrest and anxiety. But those people at the same time feel an odd compassion and empathy towards others that they also can’t be explained.

Now dear reader, being riddled with Hypotheticisim myself, I shall create the hypothetical situation and ask. Can it be gotten rid of? If one has Hypotheticism how can one free one’s self from descending into madness?

I fear I can’t satisfy your anxiety and give you a definitive answer. I can, however, lend you a hand and tell you what has helped me in experience. If your brain likes to feed on information, you need to be either giving it enough input, which is impossible, or releasing enough of to relieve that pressure that exists in the immense amount of data surging through your mind. How? Write my dear reader, write your thoughts, your feelings. If not writing then speaking, find a friend, a stage or a recorder and output as much of that insanity the lurks deep within your brain as possible.

In my endless struggle to find relief from my own brain, I find that companionship works best. A companion that finds your brain endlessly entertaining and inherently fascinating.  Then and only then you can find a momentarily relief, a moments escape of the hidden and underrated monster that doesn’t go by the name, because it’s utterly unknown, of Hypotheticisim.

The fluidity of NOW

NOW

Now... a word that extends beyond others. Now doesn't refer to a thing, or a place. it doesn't refer to an action or emotion. Now simply exists........ but where?

Where does now exist? why is now, now? why is tomorrow not now? why is now not tomorrow and where does yesterday go?

you heard it uttered before 'I'm working on a project NOW' a project that will be worked on for five months. or you heard someone let out the word 'I'm reading RIGHT NOW!'

Why right? what is right about the NOW that is right now? how is your now is more right than my now? now is just now right? or is right now, now and now is a fluid concept?

Everyone wants to change, everyone wants to be better, everyone wants gratification and we all want it now. I want to become richer now, i want to become more attractive now.... i want it.. and i want it NOW.

But the immense pressure which is created from doing things now leads to stress, procrastination feeling of inadequacy. So just do it now.... a five year period can be now. a three weeks period could be now. Give your self the now that you need to do things you need to do know. And do it all, do it all NOW. But do it in your own version of now.  

Insomnia

The door is open...... and inside there is emptiness. I struggle to close the door, but once it has been opened the insanity that lies therein overpowers me. And it's just the emptiness of it all.

Emptiness engulfs me and I find it lurking everywhere. In the concept we call love, in the concept we call life, even in the concept we call existence. It looks at me from the darkest corner with it's bright piercing eyes.

I know it's there, I can't unknow that it's there. And it forces me to question everything. The very fabric of humanity, the very lines which tie together existence. What is? and what isn't?

And even if by miracle I can close this door. I have to live with that knowledge............That knowledge that within my mind lies a door, which opens at will late at knight when the darkness comes.

And that darkness might take over, robbing me of my very own sanity.

Or has it already did?  

The suicide note

"Death is an inevitable certainty, and The strongest of all forces.

To whom it touches: it brings relief and eternal rest, or pain and eternal damnation.

To his friends:it brings pain, sadness and grief.

To his enemies:it brings happiness, joy and exaltation.

Thus making it the only entity which could start or end, anything and everything." Othman Nahhas.




The date is November/ 13th/ 2020. It's quite a grim winter evening, suitable for a Friday night. Rainy as always in this season, with a bit of sadness that accompanies the both ominous and auspicious sound of raindrops on a concrete ceiling. My chamber looks the same as always. Empty, as if it's almost uninhabited. The only soul this room has seen in decades is mine. Objects of nostalgia lay there side by side with objects of non-value, reflecting how little attention I give to my surroundings being as preoccupied as I'm with my thoughts. And me? Well I'm just me. I have a job, 9 hours a day like many people. I go to my job I go home, I pay my rent I pay my bills. I'm just a person, lost in the beehive that is our society. Now to whomever reading this (if there is any) you've already deducted that this is a suicide note,or at least I wish you did given the fact that I'm dead.

Now if you knew me, you know that I'm not one to abide by social convention. And correct you are. I'm not writing this note because of the catastrophically insane rules of a species that didn't exist a million years ago. No, I'm writing this with the purpose of philosophically justifying the act of ending one's life, if one should decide so. An act which, until this day, is considered clerically sinful and morally wrong.

I'd like to begin by acknowledging that even though I'm classified under the 'ingrads' a term which was assigned to those who don't hold a university diploma after the 2018 universal decision to close down all universities for 10 years, thus obliging more people to take on labor jobs in order to solve the unemployment problem. I still take pride in my intellect, and I do as well in my philosophies which are induced by my insufferably hyperactive mind. And since I'm not a writer, the following might seem a bit chaotic, which should give you a rare insight into my head.

I've always seen the world through the glasses of ingenuity, glasses which a lot of people wear. They do that unwillingly of course because they were born with these glasses,and those are the kind of glasses that give you a headache. I started thinking deeply about everything as far back as I can remember. I recall asking questions as a child that rendered adults speechless and that were often met with scoldings. I'll give an example here, for the sake of proof.

When I was 12 I was sitting on the bus listening to music through earphones, and an old man interfering as they do (because their kids are functioning on their own and they are terrified of feeling unneeded) told me that listening to music like that can damage my ears and make me deaf. And my answer, which gave a good chuckle to everyone on the bus, was "How can you possibly know that? Do you have any scientific evidence to support your theory?"

Now that you know who I am, I'll start unraveling my philosophy. Personally I've been here and there. I've tried almost everything imaginable. Every type of common pleasure, ranging from drugs, sex and alcohol. To simply a good cup of tea with a nice book on a cold winter's eve. And while those pleasures did give me a temporary ecstasy, that ecstasy was gone soon thereafter. And as I went through life I was building a database of variables trying to reach a simple answer. And that I have, I've reached a conclusion..... Every pleasure I can have, comes from someone else.
Let me support this hypothesis:

I've always enjoyed reading books, books are written by other people. I enjoy watching TV, listening to music, playing video games, all of which were made by other people. Even if I'm outside doing a sport, which was invented by other people, I have to wear clothes....... Again made by other people. The bed on which I'm lying right now, the room I'm in, the device on which I'm writing my note because my penmanship is horrifying, were all made by other people. My thoughts which should be of my own, are formed because of the society in which I live that conceives the universe in a specific way. And even those, my thoughts, are in a language which was invented by people and taught to me by other people. I was literally created inside another human...... How much more dependent can one be?

This dependence this........ De-Personalisation. Made me realize that I am in a codependent world in which pleasure is external and temporary whilst depression is internal and static. And just like if you're born in an area you don't like you get to leave, the same moral applies here. I'm not saying that the world is wrong, I just don't like it. I don't like the fact that you get treated differently based on the geographical location in which you were born. I don't like the fact the we get classified by 'credit' a number which has absolutely no value, which was the genius corporate solution of replacing money. In short.... I don't like the life that we as humans perceive.

Einstein said 'If you don't like your situation, change it. You're not a tree.' and with him I can't agree more. Some geniuses will tell me that I should try to change the world, make it better instead of just leaving it. I say to them, I didn't say it needs to be changed, I don't think it's wrong, I think the world works like it does because it needs to work like it does. I just don't like it. If I don't like someone or something that doesn't mean that I should try to change them, I should just leave them be. In their own way they're perfect and I'm sure many like the world the way it is, and I don't blame those either. So in conclusion the decision of change should be in the hands of the human, regardless of what that change is. One's freedom ends where other's freedom starts, and this decision is as a freedom as a freedom can be.

Another argument religious people would say is that if you end your life you'll go to hell. To them I shall quote one of my favorite writers and thinkers, an eccentric Mediterranean fellow called Othman Nahhas 'Humans are born from nothing, and yet they have the audacity to believe that after death they won't go back to nothing. Because they believe their life is too meaningful ......... ...... A more narcissistic species I've never seen.' condescending as he is, the guy has a point. Though I have a slightly different approach to the subject. If there is in fact a deity he or she is always described as loving and merciful. I really highly doubt that he or she will send me forever to a place I'd hate because I left a place I hate. That would be a bit ironic and counterproductive. So as far I'm concerned I think God will make the right choice.

Moving on to another aspect, how would one's passing affect those around him. Or more precisely how it won't. Whether the person who ends their life (which henceforth I'll just call 'the decider') has anyone in their life, who will be affected by their absence or not, that effect will be temporary. It's a fact that no one can't live without any one. Literally any human alive can live without any human in their life. Even if one had a spouse, one of the two spouses well eventually die leaving the other spouse alive. So the absence of the decider even though it might effect some, it will pass and life will go on. Of course there shall be some grief and mourning but that's just the natural order of things. The landlord will find a new tenant, the employer will find a new employee, the mourners will move on and the order of the things will be exactly the same as it was before. It might seem blunt to state what I just stated, but the truth is often blunt to those unwilling to accept it. And death is something which needs to be accepted.

One last aspect, selfishness. It is said that a decider is selfish because he chose an easy way out. But maybe it's not the easy way out, it's just a change like I said earlier. Let's view this from the decider's eyes. It's quite selfish for the people around the decider to expect him to remain in a situation which he hates just because if he left they have to deal with it. That is not only selfish and unfair but it borders on narcissism. If you really think about it, the decider is the least selfish, and if those around him really care, they would gladly bear some emotional turmoil for the decider. That being said, there is one decider who is selfish, and that is a decider who has kids. If one has kids, one must live for his kids. Because the moment you decide to have kids, you become a completely different type of a decider and your life is theirs until a day comes in which they can survive on their own. Then you may do what you well.

I'm not quite sure how you end a suicide note, but if I'm to have a last word I would want it to be
anti-prejudice, as in instead of judging the decider see the world through their eyes and justify their deed.

And with these words I leave this world, not a better a place and not a worst one.
Just a playground for many and tonight a humbling graveyard for one.

48 hours of emotional mayhem.

 The weekend started like any other, it was Friday night and I was laying in bed, firing at my neural inhibitors whatever my weapon of choice for that week was; may it be reading or writing, watching or listening, drinking or smoking, I did what i could to obleviate my self from reality and fly on one cloud or another.

 Saturday morning came along and i woke up because you eventually you have to. I looked around the room, the chaos of which reminded me of how little time i spend there. I got up and made my way through the jungle of clothes and empty containers. I looked at the mirror and believed for a moment there that I'm fine.

 I spent the morning like the night before, and then got ready to go meet a friend from the past. With her she carried tokens from my past, things of which I had let go (which is a term I prefer much more than reality 'things on which I had given up) and then I realised: I who looked at her in the past is not I who look at her now.

 I was afflicted by who I am, who I was and what has became  of me. I gazed at the token and started drowning, losing my self in the dark sea of my past. Memories like waves throwing me from one darkness into the other, rendering me unable to perceive the present or anticipate the future.

 Time slipped away and suddenly it was the next day. I went about, keeping my afflictions to my self, not for the lack of words in my mouth but for the lack of ears around me. And just when thought I'm fine again I got smashed by the ghost of a former paramour befriending someone close to me and suddenly my whole world came crashing down.

 Not because of their relationship but because of the reminder that this paramour was an oasis in the desert which is the lonliness that had befallen me in this strange land. A land in which I feel rejected, friendless and lost. That oasis, my former paramour, had at one point in this dark epoch, shaded me from the scorching desert sun in her embrace, had relinquished my thirst in her safe asylum, and in that shade I saw hope, but no more.

 The oasis is no more and now there is just me and the desert. Exhausted by the merciless ball of fury of a sun, I look around and all I see is sand, misery and death. No escape from this maddening terrain, and with every wisp of wind more sand fills my eyes leaving me more and more blinded, imprisoned within the dark sea in my brain, condemned to eternal blackness.

 And then the next day comes, and I'm obliged to put on my mask and go to work where I shall be belittled and ridiculed by people who make me lose faith in humanity.

 And nine hours later I go back to the desert with the scorching sun and gloomy sand and I lay there soaked in helplessness and paralysed by blindness. And I wait.......

One kiss.

I tremble at the mere thought of you so imagine how I feel when we kiss.
As I touch you and pull you close to me I feel my heart pounding, I feel the world spinning,  I feel the stream of life flowing and suddenly the surrealism of the embrace crashes down on me.
As we get closer I feel the proximity. The proximity of us, the proximity of the countless worlds, the proximity of everything that is, was, and will be.
And then our lips touch and my heart implodes, I feel everything and nothing all at once.
l have feelings I didn't know to be conceivable, feelings that I thought only existed in the deepest pages of books, or in the furthest corners of our imagination.
And then slowly but magically, reality starts to fade. Existence disappears, time flattens, and life becomes a mere a delirium. Until there is no where but here, no time but now,  and no one but you and I.