To every special person out there

There are two popular concepts in society that when singled out might sound meaningful, but when coupled together fall short as cute but contradictory: Everyone is equal & Everyone is special.

In truth, on a global level, everyone isn’t equal or special; was this the case the two concepts would lose purpose. Special as a word defines something that isn’t normative. If everyone’s special, then special becomes a norm which goes against what it signifies. Everyone wouldn’t be special; everyone would just be everyone. In other words, equal.

On paper, everyone is equal can be seen as everyone has equal rights. Equality exists as a word, meaning sameness (1+1=2) or degree of sameness (1+0.9≈2). Because “equal” is not practiced in reality, it must be measured. In theory, equality among people can be expressed through the concept of rights. This is a heartful idea, but if everyone had the same rights, would there be a need in pointing them out? When you look at a mass of people you don’t point out that everyone wears the same hats, unless it’s a unique situation. If everyone was truly equal, if everyone was the same, sociologists wouldn’t have much to study. I’m not saying that rights are pointless, but that they’re obvious. At least they should be, because only a not-so-completely-developed persona needs to be told that their individual rights aren’t the only rights that matter to humanity. Having “equal rights” written down on a bill of rights/amendments might serve as a meaningful statement in all its fairness, especially defining exactly what these rights are, but egoistic minds will still not think “equal rights”.

Everyone isn’t special.* Individual is what everyone is, much like how no snowflake is similar to the other if you take a good close look at one of them; but wouldn’t a special flake be one that you could pinpoint in a heap of snow? A special person is someone who you’ll spot in the masses pouring over a cross-section during rush hour. That one who’s dressed in 10 different colors.

*Maybe this could be why so many of us feel bad about our self-image when we compare it to others? We want everyone to be equally special (a wish that might be seen as a logic syntax error) but fail to identify our own individuality. Who knows – this could relate to an inner envy – If others are special, while I’m not special, this means there’d have to be winners and losers & I don’t want to be a loser! After all, one of the things people are bothered by the most nowadays seems to be other peoples Facebook-statuses. We’re obviously obsessed with the idea of comparing our lives with others; just to reassure ourselves that no one is really better than us – but damned be those people who dare to live a more special life!

The Good, The Bad & The Elitist

“Il buono, il brutto, l’elitario”

This post was meant to be posted in the end of August. Shame on me.

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Here’s what I have to say on “On the protection of art”… There are few insults to art as big as the elitists who try to “protect art” (merely speaking from my own perspective as an artist here). I’m not talking about copyright this time. I think censorship belongs to this subject as well, but what I’m trying to focus on is that in some peoples heads, there’s this idea, that today’s artists cannot measure up to past talents, and because these past talents raised the bar pretty high, new talents must strive for higher or at least equal standards. In other words, most of todays art is not REAL art (tsk, whatever “real” art is). This idea also states that if you, as an artist, do not reach the same type of complexity and symbolic depth as these “past geniuses”, your art will lose complexity and symbolic depth altogether.

One example I have is someone commenting on a song by the band Swans, using the above statement. Swans implement a monotonous, droning sound which slowly escalates into a lengthy and powerful crescendo. Said person expressed his dislike towards this sound on the basis that Genesis’ prog rock style is much more complex, and would fill the same amount of time with more complex riffs, solos & intelligent soundscapes. Nothing bad was really said about Swans, but it was hinted that, even though their music has a good vibe to it, it will never surmount the perfectionist sound of Genesis. This person’s belief was furthermore explained: todays music has fallen farther and farther away from the musical foundation built by the 70’s prog rock, therefore, it is no longer to be considered an art form.

My reaction is this: Come on, guys.

I love Swans and I love Genesis. I love drone and I love prog. None of these exclude the other. None of these exceed the other, and more importantly: No one wants someone else to tell them what is true art and what isn’t (Unless you’re  totally new to the concept of art & think there’s a distinction between true and false art I suppose); it’s clearly not for anyone to decide. Surely a subjective opinion on art is everyone’s right. Surely you’re free to observe and express your opinion based on your observations, but remember, as is everyone else. “I’m just expressing my opinion” is not an excuse to unjustify the reactions of others. There isn’t a need for guardians-of-art; only the people who would take on such a role would think there is a need for it. Sadly, they’ve forgotten that art is really nothing but freedom of expression. No one has exclusive rights to freedom; it’s a collective right.

Now, some of you owe the douchebag jar some money.

A Myth Takes Hold

This post is generalizing as hell.

People believe what other people say. Criticism is not seldom viewed as negative, even if the criticism itself is constructive in nature (People don’t want to change because change requires: 1. effort 2. the bravery of heading into the evolution of future. 3. Anti-criticism-people are afraid of change -aka the unknown- and would therefore rather stay and rot in their comfort zones than develop into something better -because, after all, “everyone is special“. I detest the “No one is a loser” speech. Not because I have faith in the paradigms of good/bad or winner/loser, but because the “everyone is special“-argument does nothing but nullify the existence of loss, and as a bonus, they don’t have to expose themselves to the strain of adapting to the new stuff. These people cannot deal with loss, because they suck at it, are afraid of it, hate it, or something else like that. They don’t want to lose, they only want to know that everything is fine with them, they’re PERFECT just the way they are, and therefore they will end up as undeveloped, nullified personas).

Getting back to the initial subject: People believe what other people say far too easily. Friends pass bullshit onto other friends, parents pass it on to their children and the children have faith in their deceptive hypocritical parents, and pass on the bullshit of the older generations to the younger generation, so the shit can spread real well. The younger generation has a more naive viewpoint than the older generation, so whatever information they snatch up easily becomes distorted so as to fit their world view. And the wheel turns around once more.

Thus, a myth is born. To unenlightened people, a surprisingly huge lot of “facts” and “truths” will soon enough reveal themselves as nothing but rumors and lies planted somewhere in the fathomless past. Still, we have this nasty habit of spreading the bullshit of our own generations around. Why? Because we believe the fuck out of what our family & friends tell us!

The friend of a friend tells you that dogs can’t look up? Nah, that’s bullshit. Unless he wears glasses or went to University, then he must be a smartass who clearly knows what he’s talking about!

A very simplified example, but nonetheless, that’s sometimes how bullshit spreads. This person said this, this other person said that. Oh my, no way! Gossip is entertaining, that’s a simple statement. Who cares if it’s the truth when there’s a little drop of drama at last? Who cares about what truth or what lies the surrounding people derive their bullshit from?

Exactly, who cares? Because no one does. Because if you do, you are a critic, and regular people do not like criticism. Because doubting the validity of information is lack of trust. Not many people like distrust. I want to tell them: Then start finding out the truth, damn it.

Notes About the Authentic Self from a Damaged Mind

Try being yourself uncriticized – won’t fuckin’ work. As we are mirrors of our surroundings we will all become our own worst critics, sooner or later. We simply care so much about how our fellow humans see us that we can’t focus on how we see ourselves.

It shows in how we interact with our surroundings, in our hypocrisy, but it’s really all compromise & adaption. We change ourselves so that others will accept us, but still it is an uncomfortable change, for we want things to be  absolute and firm. What irritates us with change is that nothing stays the same. Ironically, nothing’s as absolute as the ever-changing Now – change is absolute chaos, and chaos is what it is – Everything.
The Now is the adapting presence that bridges all modes of time – past, present, future. What you do and who you are now is what remains of yesterday, and what will develop into whom you are tomorrow. Don’t hang up on trying to become yourself for the sake of others, instead try just being authentic for a while, change for your own sake. Then, what’s authentic?
Not having to think about what you should do, who you should be, where you should go. Authenticity is void of expectations. You don’t have to set your goals because they’re already in your gut. You don’t have to rely on trusting or doubting your feelings, that’s what the third eye is for – insight.
Your authentic self is unquestionably the Real you. Authentic is all that you already are, do, where you go & what you will develop into from the present. Authentic is every part of your existence that unites with the Now. Authenticity is important because we are the authors of our own lives, and as authors we all wear our own individual marks, scars and styles and it shows in our Everything. Authentic is the opposite of your questions – it is your answer.

A Question of Misery

This is for the depressed, and about the judgmental & ignorant mass of people that we have to wade through in our everyday lives. To all of you who won’t lend a helping hand to your hurt friends because it’s uncomfortable or “too much” or because you expect them to immediately feel better after a pat on the shoulder, please, do go on reading.

Way too often I have experienced people avoiding friends that are depressed, sometimes because it’s too much of a strain to hang out with them and sometimes because it’s apparently a pain in the ass when people are too “lazy” to take care of their own problems. Whatever reason you have to judge the low –for which I see no valid arguments- in which way would judgment make them feel less depressed? How would it take you back to normality if other people judged you without regards to what you’ve been through when you feel low? If you have to be that bothered by the emotions of others, then make them feel better rather than making it worse!

Depression is much like a padded cell; you are imprisoned in a claustrophobic room together with your demon self. If you want the depressed to grab themselves by the neck, if you expect them to get better by being shunned or ignored because you do not simply care too much about the troubles of other humans, you really should not think of yourself as any higher than they; you are not better in any way. Think of the whole situation like this: There are two rooms, one atop the other and a separating floor in between. The separating floor is the obstacle which is depression; this is what the depressed must break through to get better. In the room below the state of depression lies ignorance, above lies enlightenment.

Considering you dislike and judge depressed that much, one could perhaps derive from this that you simply do not want them to feel depressed but lack the ability to express your feelings more elegantly: maybe there’s a slight sense of irritation over the fact that they cannot seem to overcome their woe, that they aren’t normal, like you. But talk to them, God damn it! They won’t have the courage or strength to rise by their own weakened force unless they defeat their ego (I think that I have previously stated in this blog that depression is a battle against the ego. If not, I have now).

You cannot simply expect any of this to happen if you or someone else does not take part as a ladder for them to climb out of their pit on. Sure, some people are strong enough to overcome their agony, but it’s a bit more safe to assume that they’re not. Remember that you risk lowering yourself below them, below depression, where love and life are at halt; you are below the most gloomy way of living, because you do not even strain to care about the pain of others; instead you’ll push them deeper down by condemning them. You’re passing time in ignorance.

Know that the unhelping hand is the worst possible, the one of selfishness, prejudice and utter ego. Depression is a confrontation with the ego, and helping someone to win over their ego might also help you do the same. Ego is an alluring force, but beyond the ego there’s a slice of enlightenment waiting to be found. I think this is worth fighting for, and worth helping others to fight for.

Mandatory 2012 Reflections

I must say, it didn’t take so long to be so far into this year, or so it seems. For you who started working early in January, I have to say you missed some quality resting time. I certainly didn’t mind taking a week off.

So, whatever did I achieve last year? At the moment it feels like the most boring question ever. Though, it is actually quite important to see whereto you have gone in your development, at least in my eyes.

1. I reunited with some old friends (<- which means the best among my old friends) during some awesome days at my brother’s place down in the hillbilly south. I also met some other old friends at random points during the year, which was refreshing.
2. Got a new job last autumn that greatly stabilized my economic situation. I love it! Leaving my old job was releasing. […] and now I can spend money again!
3. I read my first physical fiction book since… I don’t remember actually… But it was Tove jansson’s Pappan och Havet, which is the second last of the Moomin book series. It’s great.
4. Started writing fiction again. Don’t think I have anything that could be posted here, though; it’s all written in Schwedish. Oh, well.
5. Finished my first oil painting since 2010 (See top picture of it). I had been working on this somewhere in 2011, but I couldn’t manage to finish it back then. You don’t play with creativity, you know. That’s one bitter cat. Felt a great closure in finishing it during the Christmas holidays, and it opened me up a bit, so let’s paint some more!
6. I also survived the end of the Mayan calendar, which was to be expected since I started this blog. I did forget to eat the cake though.* I still laugh at the claim that Mayans “miscalculated” the date and the “real” date is actually – who cares? Why bother? Anxiety-mongers will sooner or later die from a heart attack, anyway.
7. I played out Halo 4 with my brother Martin at New Year’s eve. It was hell fun but very anticlimactic.
8. Somewhere at the end of the Julian calendar, I realized I had NOT grown in my spiritual path, but I had faltered and greatly so. Even though this realization struck me as a hurting surprise at first, it has thrown me back onto the road towards enlightenment and broader awareness. Thus, I am of course thankful for realizing I had slipped.
9. Oh, I also joined Twitter. Why the hell not, I figured.

*EDIT: I now remember that I did not forget the cake! I celebrated the Not-the-end-of-the-world-day with Aci by eating a punch roll (while she ate macarons), which served as a symbolic celebration cake.

Silence of the Lambs

Found this among my older drafts:

Everyone have their individual limits set when it comes to subjects of discussion, and thus, everyone have their uncomfortable subjects. But what is it that makes us limit our area of discussion? Some people may not want to play jokes on their recently deceased relative; others are easily provoked by discussions of sex. What I am curious about is why we are provoked by these subjects and why we shun them. To me, it would seem logical to instead bring the subjects into casual discussions, thus making them more casual and less taboo. For they are taboo because we make them, am I right? Am I then wrong to assume that there is a relation between taboo and  limitation – that our uncomfortable zones limit us, as we instead of treating them, shut ourselves in because we dare not fight against them?

Age of Collapse / Age of Communication

“We open our eyes
and with our souls
we inhale the void
beyond this planar body

Never to exhale

Somewhere, in the great nothing
there is something;
a deserted isle of despair;
where everything distorts

The echoes of silence
ring across the barren plains
and speaks for everyone else
driving everything so desperately apart

whatever we do
never breaks through

The barriers of our thoughts,
the carriers of our fear,
that worries our minds,
the wearier we become

The ache that voilently possesses
the free mind;
it injects the blood with a hunger
which pulls us further away from all connections

Like statues we transport
ourselves to the industry
baffled by our own
apathetic mirrored selves

Restlessly floating in that void
right in front of our faces,
yet still so inhumanly far away,
just inhaling time

Never to exhale

Our vessels move forward
but our spirits remain still
yet our minds are far from empty
for we hide therein

We keep our faces static;
dissasociated; locked and cold
distantiate from the warmth
of all other forms of life

Breathe as little as only dying breed does
we speak only to our thoughts
and gently sweep ourselves away;
hover into the great black hole

With our crowns glowing high above our heads
we acknowledge the age of collapse
then fall back into the descending line
and retreat further into hibernation“

Lazy Sunday

Ah, how I love lazy Sundays! It was such a long time ago since I had time to just be; to just sit my ass down and do whatever the fuck I feel like. You wake up late, the weather is nice, your apartment has just the right morning temperature (a perfect balance between warm and cold; just enough to make the hair stand out on your arms, but not enough to make your feet cold), and the morning coffee has never smelled so good before. Everything is beautiful; the yellow and red autumn trees, the flocks of birds leaving for a better climate, the glow from lit candles and yes, even the mess in the hallway.

Lazy Sundays are the days when no plans are allowed to get in the way. Just get some bread in the oven, kiss your loved one, sit down and play Little Big Planet while munching on breakfast, lay in bed for a while, take the train to your mother’s place and steal some food, go back home and play some Minecraft, bake scones and watch series… Ah, how I love lazy Sundays!

Wait a minute… It’s Monday, isn’t it?

…Nnnyyyaaaaaaahhhgghhh…

VI.

We travel through the span of a lifetime
not even aware of what travels with -and within- us.
Wasting away the cycles of our existence
Is part of our miserable being.

A pill to numb the pain
Blind faith to restrain the thoughts
Our nature is of waste,
If not of ignorance.

Whatever illusion is lost by knowledge,
Is soon traded for another illusion,
As reality in its truest form
Is an ocean too vast for our minds to brave.

As always, we steer our bodily vessels with fear
Away from anything unknown
Every moment of thought is washed;
Anointed with a paranoid phobia of the end

As every single ending in our lives
Reminds our subconsciousness of our own ultimation
Thus, we suffocate our idle minds
With the anxiety that precedes enlightenment

We travel through the span of a lifetime,
Not even aware of what travels through us;
The ultimate illusion;
Time, and death,
United with the sun.