Hopelessness


Preface

This was written on July 30th. I am a week late in sharing it, due to the very problems I speak of here. For one thing I've had to decide whether to title it “Hopelessness” or “Facing Futility.” I know if I call it “Hopelessness” there will be mediocre comments like “Aw gee Kim what's the matter keep ur head up girl.” Is this piece still as relevant and well-composed as it would be if delivered on time?


I do not wish to write this but internally it seems I am obligated to do so. [I'd like this article to be as perfect, coherent, and well-organized as possible but I also have to get the words out on time lest I come up short.



The Problem

The problem at hand is the doom of the material world-- not just in general but at its current point of progress. This is the fact that, in some form, failure is certain. What is delivered will never quite be good enough. It will always be lacking in some way, untrue to the original perfection of creation.

The failure most often committed by humans is destruction. We are always destroying something-- nature, our own bodies, the bodies of others, our own honor. When man feels he has no control over the world around him he tends to not merely do nothing but to destroy himself. Consider why drugs are so popular today and have facilitated the downfall of many people.

At present humanity has a massive victim complex. Whereas in the past such a complex would have rendered one weak and gotten him killed somehow, today victimhood is, for now, the best way to survive in this society. No one wants responsibility, everyone wants to be excused for their sorry failures. In their flailing through life as hapless victims, humans destroy nobility of being. What we are left with is sickened rabble, who spastically rush around like wounded animals on the one hand and lie still like docile cattle on the other.

There is a higher state of being, which I have referred to as pure heart. It is necessary to rise above petty, socially-facilitated pressure and place attention elsewhere. Social pressure and time pressure are largely one and the same: you must get somewhere on time before someone beats you. We have subjected ourselves to the minds of one another and have thus killed ourselves in the process. We have become hesitant, contemptible beings ever-fearful of the wrath of another. We speak in ways which sound reasonable but in reality are a disingenuous whining and begging for mercy. For instance, take all apologies and explanations for failure. Begging for mercy is indeed disingenuous. No one- certainly not I- would do it because it is their deepest truth. They do it only out of a petty fear for their lives.


The Present Situation

I am ever-aware of the highest potential for perfection and I now stare in the face the premise that I might not make it.

In both observing the present and studying history, fundamental change does seem impossible. Humans have for so long been driven by hype and propaganda. The biggest societal changes often involve violence.

Control over people today is largely achieved by imposing a sense of guilt. You must think, feel, and use your words a certain way or you are a hater, you are biased, you are a bigot. These are the big labels we are supposed to be afraid of. Because of this it is impossible anymore to speak straightforwardly.

World War II is the defining event of modern times because it is what initiated the modern era. It has been only since then that words have become assaults and that America has risen to prominence as the world's number one superpower, while the countries of Europe (save perhaps for Russia) have all fallen. Indeed, the peoples of Europe fought one another and now they are receding, if not together then at least simultaneously. There is a sense that one does not belong anywhere. While America has engaged in covert imperialism for the last 70 years, imposing regime change upon the peoples of the Earth and lying to its own people about the reasons for its actions, there is nowhere else to go. For in the homeland the people are arrested for what they say, they cannot defend themselves, they are overcrowded, and their police and militaries are useless. Indeed, these places have become impotent, perhaps the sorriest thing to be.


What Remains?

So, over the last year I have come to the conclusion that the highest and purest thing I can do is to encode my own journey of self-realization. It does seem rather hopeless because I think no matter what I say, nothing will fundamentally change. To a large extent people are stuck being as they are and I do not know what shall become of them. I think no matter what I say I will be met with hype and complete failure of understanding. It does not seem possible to transfer one's worldview to another without that other having the ability to tap into the void and see through the eyes of others. I fear that very few have the capability for this and even fewer develop that capability.

Don't you wish everyone was the same, don't you wish we could provide for everyone, don't you wish everyone could be your friend, don't you wish you could be totally peaceable and never impose a single unpleasant thing upon anyone? Don't you wish you could relax and laugh, don't you wish we could have genuine intellectual debate, don't you wish it was OK to be mediocre sometimes, don't you wish you were perfect, don't you wish there was no conflict, don't you wish you could always say, “I love you”? But, at least in the current state of things, this all just does not seem possible. There is the unending struggle for power, the conflict to rise to the highest and most complete state of being possible, and all of the above are at odds with this. The more you subject your mind to the minds of those around you, the more you are doomed to fail. Seeking to be socially harmonious, harmless, and unassuming only weakens you and forces you to express yourself in ways that are disingenuously meek, convictionless, and contemptuously emotional. We are “all in it together” only insofar as this struggle for self-realization is concerned-- that is, only indirectly. We do not all explicitly help each other on the surface, we will not, and we cannot. Conflict must be recognized and appropriately moved through for the highest truth to be realized. Meek evaders of conflict will always be mediocre. Other people are useful only insofar as they either help you directly or are overcome by you for the prevailing of your own highest truth. The highest good is the self-realization of all; however, in its details this will not mean the same for all. Therefore, every journey is a journey alone. However mean and lonely it seems you must take up inward freedom and mentally stand alone. What can you do about it? The answer seems to be, nothing.

Liberalism is an impossible ideal which, when held, often coincides with some extent of hedonism (not that conservatives are not jaded and bloated, to be fair, though let us not get diverted). Liberalism is degrading to one's abilities of discernment because it wishes to see everything in light of the perfection of eternal formlessness. However, eternal formlessness is only one realm of existence. While everything contains the element of eternal formlessness it also has physical form and the volition made possible by consciousness. All things are perfect and uniform, and they also are not. If there was only eternal formlessness there would be no physical world and therefore no experience of existence. Precision matters: every detail of everything composes what actually happens. General ideas are not good enough. Precision is indispensable to perfection.

I wish that I was always sad, and never angered, so as to be pure. Anger seems futile but indeed its basic drive is forward movement, often seeking to push through weakness and falsehood. Where there is plenty of these things anger is bound to arise at some point, however you end up using it.

What a dream it is, the premise of being nothing. Fundamentally I am. Sometimes I feel obligated to be nothing, to have myself be trampled upon, as resistance is futile. However, at the same time, I am something. Otherwise I could not experience that I am nothing.

It seems that castration has occurred and there are no more balls to be had. Impotence in some form is inevitable. I am bound to fail. This being said, some things cannot be taken away: I will become and always be something, and it remains to be seen what something will be. Overt virility, for the sake of any perfect end, is gone. All that can be relied upon now is pure and untarnished heart.