After all, we all rise and fall
What have we become…? What can we (l)earn from all this?
Was it this that the world was supposed to arrive at?
Present seems a vague shadow of what humans used to be by all means.
In the past lie treasures of knowledge long lost… and simplicity seems long buried in the sands of time, and legend.
Today… looking in the eyes of people I wonder which one of our souls will make any difference. Are we not too many? Are we that many? They say many makes a difference but what if they were wrong… what if many means we get lost into chaos of too much is too much? The world as we know it today is just scraps of what civilization used to be. Mankind degraded itself… more than ever was before.
I see people walk in the streets like they are worth having everything… But is it true? I believe not. It seems the world has forgotten its rightful place; we were born and raised to be humans not animals. Born and raised to live normal with what we have, and be thankful for it, but this is not available anymore, everyone wants everything. Greed. But then again the animal instinct rises at the surface wondering and showing its teeth and claws as if it’s fighting for survival. We lost our gestures, our nurture towards the past, our respect for everything that was built on forces that today no longer exist. We lost respect even for our self’s…even if we pretend we care more than ever. It’s all a lie, even the faces that we see in the mirror seem not to recognize us if we look closer. For as we are, we might never know because we are all misleading and fooled by images of copying one each other. It’s like personalities lost their battle, and only the winners phase lies between our selves protruding to make a point that has no valor.
We all got lost in mirrors of Narcissus that hangs himself in the watery image of itself. In images that point that we are the best, the worthiest of them all. Isn’t this just a fake glass of water? Is everything that others believed in, lost? Are we about to fall… and never to rise again?
Every time I try to look Fate in the eyes… there is just a cloud… and a forest of blur. Soon from now, generations will grow not knowing what compassion is, what human kind is actually capable of. Not capable of communicating with each other, just hypnotized by their phones and stupid gadgets. United generations sounds like a dream, we all know it’s very less possible for as we grow older we lose all the seeds that we grew from. We lost connection with nature… the most important and feeding of all. We lost respect for the Elders as in even if they can be crazy sometimes, they still are “the elders” the ones that have a life in front of us. We lost appreciation for simplicity, for being happy as we are and as we were born to be.We lost respect for the Books. The most mind-numbing enriching experience of them all. There is nothing in the world that can feed you more than books in knowledge.
Watching the word crumbling feels like an eternity of cold rains. Somehow some people lost faith in humanity; I myself still doubt there is any escape from ourselves. Past times had some serious leaders, and some real hero-trouble makers… but at least they grew on something they believed in, and even if they did not feed the nations as we do the reality is still the same, just that middle class seems to crumble into poverty and the richest seem to get even richer because today there is no one to stop all goods to lie in the hand of one to rule them all, but to all to rule thousands. Strong lies the hand of time that keeps like Atlas the Globe on its strong shaky shoulders. Fate might still lie in some eyes, but as I see it it goes weaker by the day, and rare by the years.
Surrounded by a strange commodity it seems that it no longer satisfies our lives. Our lives are meant to be simple, not all of us deserve everything, but better is the word. „Dream big”, is a phrase to cloud the minds of people that get lost in translation. And doh.. they’re so many. We cannot be equal, since we are not created to be equal.
So many get lost in words… they might indeed know how to write and read, but they might as well f**k the sense out of these words as they are incapable of understanding.
Past lies in my mind… as a reward for what we can do with our lifes. I stick to it no matter how much I would like to look to the present I prefer digging it as it still feeds my soul for knowledge and it still feeds my mind with better worlds than the new world wants me to feed on. I look up to people of the past, less known… People who did things, not people who talk things and brag about themselves too much.
After all we all rise and fall, but we shall not forget it is the eyes that show us our souls are long lost in this new world.
aleeda.wordpress.com 
We are animals and will always act on instinct. We are driven by emotion, even if we don’t understand why we do what we do. And I rejoice in this, because it allows us to experience the intensity, passion, and fury of the moment, in all its vicissitudes of joy and pain. We are also rational, that’s true, but reason is nothing more a tool we use to help us explain to ourselves the choices we’ve already made and then justify them. It can help us stay organized in the pursuit of our goals, but it can’t tell us what those goals should be. Because we have a developed frontal cortex, we are aware of our own imminent deaths, and this curses us with the need to find meaning in an absurd world.
The beauty of our condition is our ability to play games with ourselves – to create meaning out of nothing, to use our rationality to take all the random and capricious strands of all of our cherished desires, bitter rivalries, wonderful awes, petty insecurities, infatuating loves, and crippling fears, and weave them all into a magnificently coherent tapestry that makes sense to us, that tells us a story of who we are and why we’re here. Even if we’re aware at some level that it’s all made up, that it’s all just some grand game, that „God is dead” after all, we ignore that dim awareness, because we love the story. We sing the story, we raise our kids with it, we die defending it. Because the story inspires us to become part of something larger than ourselves. This is the great beauty of us: our ability to transcend ourselves.
This tapestry presents to us everything we pretend to know about the world and guides us in what to do with it, where to go. It includes technology, which is our collective accumulated storehouse of all knowledge. It includes language, which make possible our thoughts and emotions to become conscious and even structures the very manner in which we think. It includes religion, which provides purpose and meaning. It includes art, which expresses the ecstasy and terror of our condition. Biologically, we are almost identical to hominids 100,000 years ago. Everything beautiful about us is because of the transmission of this tapestry – the story passed down from generation to generation. Without it, we are apes fishing for termites.
We live in an age that seeks to dismantle stories, to disenchant the world. There are those who zealously and dogmatically clutch their stories to their breast, their very existential identities threatened, and with good reason. (This includes liberal progressives who actively try to invalidate tradition, but are ironically unaware that their notion of historical progress is a carryover of the Christian tradition of historical redemption.) For the rest of us, for whom these stories have been debunked, we are adrift in anomy. Grandparents have lost their purpose as guardians and patrons of tradition and are swept aside as irrelevant and obsolete. Psychiatric therapy is born out of a generation who for the first time didn’t know what to do with their lives. Gnosticism in various secular forms is resurgent as people seek to escape this world instead of embrace it. People are mired in their own individualities, bereft of a cosmic identity. And we can’t go back; these stories will never have meaning for us again. It is our challenge to invent new ones, or, more difficult still, to learn to love a world without meaning.
JP… you are incredibly thoughtful as always. I think this is the first comment that I read more than once, since I have this blog. Yes… everything you wrote is not aknowledged by most of the people, which makes us knowing but unable to do anything. We are like actors in a play that we don’t know how it ends… or maybe spectators as life moves and we admire/or not in silence whatever happend in the wolrd. Does this bother you? The fact that… we are just watchers?
😀