I remember when I was 22, didn't know me arse from a hole in the wall and made gobs of money. I wanted to look good, I wanted people to see what I had money and I wanted to be seen, period.
It meant nothing to me to pay outrageous money for jeans. Or always buy dinner. If something broke i simply bought a new one. I drank like a fish, smoked and swore like a sailor and did whatever the hell I pleased. I was a selfish bitch.
That's the culture. It's acceptable. The illusion is praised over authenticity because even what looks authentic (or kind) is just another publicity stunt.
When you stop giving a shit about looking interesting; wealthy, like you have it together or that your way is right--- then and only then will you know that you have died to everything that this world pretends to offer you.
Once all this stuff peels off, you see the stage, the audience, the spectacle that all of this is and guess what, this is still more-- you know that, though you're unsure what it is, there is more because how can we possibly know it all?
I realized how uneconomical/wasteful and foolish label brands were. Smoking was a trauma response. So was drinking. So was selfishness.... everything in the world preyed upon my brokenness and exploited it. It exploited me. These big companies, they exploited my pain. They captured my attention with promises of happiness and fulfillment in exchange for top dollar, then when i had the thing, I wasn't any happier. Hell, I'd go home some nights, alone, drunk-- after having an amazing night and just cry. I felt empty. I had everything I thought I wanted but the real stuff was missing. It wasn't a relationship--- had those too, I was still massively unfulfilled. It was what was missing inside that needed to get sorted out. It was all the busted shit that was being preyed upon by the narcissistic super giant companies.
Hey man, its the way of the world isn't it? Supply and demand. You have a problem, I have some quick fix that will paint you illusion that you fixed your problem.
Its our hearts. Our hearts have gone cold for each other. Our eyes and clouded over. Our ears are jammed with lies and our bellies and interstitial tissues are clogged with chemicals and non-food products, packaged as food and medicine. But fuck, what do I know, right?
This is just my little snapshot. My little Universe floating around, in orbit with yours. It's just my perception. I'm no better than anyone, I'm just different. Not different good or different bad, I just AM. Just as we all are.
You know what I want more than anything? A big group hug. To hell with fear and distance and hatred and speculation. Fuck sides; he's wrong, she's right, red, blue, purple--- green, whatever you represent... all the different flags; and groups and sects and dialects and languages. Oh yeah, skin color! Oh sure skin color, religions, denominations, oh what about blood types? And food preferences and what about illnesses and badges of honor or clubs--- yes, we cannot forget the elite clubs and memberships! What about all of it? Your bank account. Your house. Your car. Your clothing and shoes. What about celebrities? Classes of people? First world country and third world country? Rich and poor?
You all die. Everyone dies. Nothing goes with you. Does any of this shit matter? We have been taught to segregate. We have been taught to differentiate and justify why we are doing it. We have been instructed to judge and be prejudice. We have no valid excuse to do any of these things. They are just as alive as you. They have just as much right to life as you. The label, is an illusion. These are all illusions and they're valid because you believe in them.
You don't like the world as it is? You're disgusted and think its someone else's fault? Really? Look around your house. What you consume. How you treat people. That waitress. The guy who sat at the green light just a little too long in traffic. What about your cell phone, can you manage to have a face-to-face conversation with someone anymore without staring at your phone? Let's get fuckin' real here for a moment... it's someone else's fault?
Choose. Make changes or keep blaming everyone around you?
People don't change because you blew up at them or told them where to shove it. They change when the pain of not changing it greater than their fear of the unknown. And human's are stubborn. We often need for something to completely blow up in our faces in order for us to attend to it. I still see this in myself sometimes. Maybe I'm stubborn, maybe I still second guess myself sometimes, I don't know. But sometimes it does take pain, in order to bring about the changes necessary. Its no one else's fault but my own. I have control over me and what I do. That's it. If something falls apart now, it's my responsibility. We need to be radically responsible for this planet, we are in deep shit. We need a group hug. A really big, almost awkward one. We need to see the humanity in the humans around us. Because we don't everyone is expendable and disposable. xx
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