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| Credit: Realityzone.blogspot.com |
That disturbing sensation which starts deep in your gut, making its way up slowly until is clasps your chest. A feeling of dread soothed subtly by a cleansing realisation.
"Humanity is doomed."
Well maybe I'm being a bit too dramatic, too pretentious. I seem to be very good at that. But for me, the dramatisation of life is an escape. The world is a story, a grand play. The bad guys win because in this particulary tragedy, it was meant to be.
That is just how humans are.
But you don't feel this. I am sure of it. So stop reading, and watch this video. The whole thing. Just for a moment.
How do you feel? A well spoken gentlemen just turned your attention towards the performance. An Empire of Chaos, the slow rise of a once dead fascist state, the erosion of rights, lies, bureaucracy and rich, sociopathic kings. How does the story end? Do you want to stay and watch it to the end? Maybe it has dragged on too long. Maybe the past was brighter.
Maybe the past was an error in our programming. Maybe it's always like this? Always filled with lies, walking forwards and backwards into infinity.
We have been fighting forever, oppressors and victims indistinguishable from each other. Here is a brief history of Jerusalem to a rather relaxing tune:
This sort of gut wrenching detail is depressing. My bubble of relative peace is shattered and I have to wake up to a sick world. A fucked up world. A dreadful paradox:
People are distracted > evil prevails > evil entertains > people are distracted.
Should I stay in this sick world?
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I talked to my mother recently. She thought it was ridiculous how people would design some jumpers which stopped just short of a wearer's lower back. How terrible they must be at keeping people warm. I said I thought it was rediculous how we weren't allowed to speak about what happens on Manus island. She looked down, "Could you stop bringing conversations back to things like that? It's depressing."
People are distracted > evil prevails > evil entertains > people are distracted.
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What am I supposed to do? It becomes harder and harder to distract myself. I've seen too much of this terrible play, as cheezy as that sounds. Every country in the performance is a piece of shit. Every actor is just an animal in a suit. Expendible, sometimes only appearing for one line of dialogue. Disgusting and manipulative.
And so I stand alone between two doors.
A bright orange door. Made from painted wood. A bronze handle, stained with dried blood. This is the door of the man who has seen too much. The man who wants to defy the play. The man who wants to crawl onto the stage and stab the actors to death. The man who wants to become an activist, to play the game dirty. Terrorism, assassinations.
Justice.
Then there is the blue door. Made from plastic, with a steel handle. This is the door of the man who wants to be distracted. Who wants to meld into the paradox. The man who sees no evil, hears no evil and speaks no evil. He never attended the play, he was off doing his own thing. People say they've seen it, they say the play was life-changing. The man calls them crazy. He's the normal one, and he loves it.
Ignorance.
But we always forget about the third door. A black door made from cast iron. This is the backstage door. Where the play can be veiwed in all its detail. The actors memorizing their lines. The set pieces being moved into place. The man who steps through this door will either subsist in eternal agony, or accept the inevitability of it all. See the play as something unique, see its flaws, its human flaws. See how contrived and irrational everything really is. Try to guess what comes next.
This man embraces fatalism.
So, reader, or more correctly, fellow classmate form GC (the only people who read this stuff anyways) which door should I walk through?
Orange, Black or Blue?
And if you're walking my way, can I walk with you? ~ That was an intentional rhyme ;)
