Irrational Belief

My belief is irrational. 

There is an overwhelming stigma against the irrational in the world, and perhaps rightly so.  Irrational people pose difficulties in rational function, and most of society is organized rationally.  Rationality is the information that one finds applicable to the world around oneself, and RATIONALY you conclude that this is what should be glorified.  The overlap of these the simple statement above, and this stigma is where we see the debate of Science vs. Spirituality emerge.

My belief is bigger than knowledge.

This is not to say that I do not believe in rational knowledge, for I do.  I believe in science wholeheartedly, and try my best to have it enhance my daily life as much as it possibly can.  Beyond my belief in knowledge lies my belief in understanding, what I know rationally and what I ‘know’ irrationally.

My belief is not less valid than rationality

Even the rational inquisitor would run into the question “Why does rationality work?”  “What set in place these fundamental laws and mechanisms that our universe operates under?”  It is almost fair to consider these questions rhetorical, for in pursuit of the answer we run across a terrible conundrum.  To answer that question would be to understand, understanding.  Yet the pursuit for knowledge persists, “What came before the big bang? What was the small, dense entity inside, if the universe was not present?” Any answers to this question would have to be an irrational one, for it is a question into what is by definition outside of rationality.  Writing off the irrational as a lesser form of understanding than rationality is to restrain one’s open-mindedness in the quest for information into anything larger than rationality. 

My belief is in a deity

God. Many Gods, one God, Your god, Their god, My god.  My belief is in an irrational entity or precursor to the rational universe, also known as, a God.  I don’t know much about my belief beyond this, but I do know that I believe in something much larger than myself, much larger than existence itself, a god.  The god I’m looking for could be accurately described in an established religion, or a dead one, or a yet to be articulated one, but it is a belief in something.    

  

Dancing with an Audience

There is a wonderful idiom we use, “dance like nobody is watching”, that is a cliché bit of life advice.  Still, most clichés only come about out of the basis of truth, and upon examination it would seem living uninhibited is a good course of action.  It takes more than a quote to fully understand the concept of uninhibited life however, it takes a moment.  You don’t take things people say to heart until proving them to yourself.  Upon recollection there wasn't a time I danced like nobody was watching, in fact, it was usually the opposite; I would dance in places where one feels like EVERYONE is watching.  I was always moving very consciously, with a sense of deliberation to my movements.  I later realized I lived my life that way, deliberately.  Even my quest to embrace spontaneity was a deliberate one, a terrible paradox which is silly to even propose as effective.  One night however, I danced without thinking; I existed in the moment for the sake of existing in it, not pursuing any sort of goal or agenda.

  It started with a conversation, a simple greeting to a stranger on their stoop that cold Saturday night.  Finding ourselves the last of our group outside the party, my friend Ben and I began to speak with the interesting characters that had spread themselves about the stairwell of the apartment complex.   They were an eclectic bunch, in the best sort of way, psychedelic rock music blasted out of their room, an awesome break to the monotony of party music that usually bombarded the sound space of Isla Vista on a weekend. 

The first person I spoke with was a bearded man whose name has slipped my mind, and what was most striking to me was the way in which he listened.  While we spoke, he focused his eyes very intently at the ground, periodically nodding and waiting until you were fully finished with your side of the conversation before engaging in his own.  I had the feeling he truly processed every word I said that night, and I wish I could say the same on my part, (this is now a mental note to become a better listener…).  He spoke with a soft voice, in an intellectual manner, yet not the sort of intellectualism one associates with pretentiousness.   It was more so with an air of curiosity and excellent diction.  His friends were equally interesting, a girl with black hair whose passion for life seemed to make everything that happened far too overwhelming, and her reactions followed suit; they were intense, full of life.  There was a tall stern faced man as well, who spent most of the time with his girlfriend, he didn't say a word other than his name, but his mannerisms were exceedingly inviting and friendly.  Lastly there was Alex who, “looks like Jesus!” according to an unbiased third party (a drunk girl).

  

After standing in the cold, talking about nothing and everything at the same time, we decided to move into their upstairs apartment.  Upon entering, the music that was pleasantly emanating outside turned into a blaring noise, previously blocked by the actual structure inside.  A computer lay on the floor of the bathroom, connected to speakers in the other room.  On the floor lay boxes filled with thousands upon thousands of burnt CD’s, more music than I could have even fathomed.  Ben and I spent the next ten minutes or so mingling with the group, and despite being the only outsiders to this click of friends, we felt quite in place.  We talked about drugs, life, and just appreciated existence together.  After some time, I went up to Alex and outright told him that his music collection was “the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.”  To which he responded by hugging me, and screaming to the room “It’s my birthday and I want all you fuckers to come dance with me!” And we did.  

It was a scene straight out of the 1960’s (and as a matter of fact, a good number of them did happen to be on acid).  Here was whole gang of us who, for that moment, in that place, stopped chasing anything, grades, love, money, fame, and we danced.  And for the first time I truly felt like nobody was watching. So remember, "I WANT ALL YOU FUCKERS TO COME DANCE WITH ME" and if everyone is busy living, nobody is busy watching.  So get busy living, and forget about who is busy watching.

Dance with your audience, not for them.

To Infinity, and Then What?

"To infinity...and beyond!" - Buzz Lightyear

As a kid, I was told 'the universe is infinite' and for all intents and purposes it was the easiest way to describe the enormous stretch of space that we inhabit to a child.  In actuality, the universe is growing! An equally awesome concept, but seemingly contradictory to my previous understanding that the universe was infinite.  How can that which is infinite, also grow?

What is infinity? My preliminary attempts to rationalize it numerically seemed futile.  The idea that our number scale being infinite made sense.  The number scale could not end because you can perpetually add to it.  In other words, if you had the space, one could make tally marks on a surface forever.  There would not be a point where you had made 'infinite' tally's.  So infinity can't be a number, or even a numerical idea, it must be above these concepts, it must INCLUDE them.

Infinity has to be everything there is, and even everything there could be.  On top of that, infinity has to be everything there isn't, and everything there couldn't be.

Scientific notation negated the 'naming' of numbers.  Someone somewhere got tired of coming up with ones, tens, thousands, millions, billions, trillions etc.  and rightfully so! We would run out of words to use eventually, our diverse vocal capabilities are even more finite than the number system we use.  Numbers would have to have terms associated with them that we already use to represent other things in our world.  Can you imagine a series of numbers (think trillions) named after you? Or how about a series named 'cat' or even a sequence of numbers called 'number'.

The issue that presented for me was that how can we define infinity without being able to even come close to reaching it?  It can't be observed, or even fathomed.  There are no mathematical formulas that can discern it or illustrate it.  So then there are only two options left (if you can present a third, I would be open to hearing it!)

Infinity doesn't exist
OR
Infinity is the only thing that exists, and we are all just a part of it.

Exploration

The people in the park at this hour were the usual sort.  Tennis players, moms with strollers, a jogger, a dog walker.  And then there was me.  Awkwardly out of place with a film camera, uncombed hair, and dressed in filthy clothes.  I got out of the car I had only just learned to drive, and jumped the parks fence as quickly as I could, (drawing way more attention than I had expected).  I bolted into a creek, sacrificing the pair of new vans on my feet to the dirty water that flooded into the spillway, and, into a massive tunnel covered with graffiti.  It was a history of that place, the artistic of expression of the nameless citizens of my town, artist pseudonyms achieving the fame these individuals had forsaken in order to share their art.  It was the first graffiti tunnel I had ever seen, and I would return to over 100 times through the next two years.  It inspired every adventure I would take around the Bay Area through out high school.

History favors exploration. It is a facet of human growth that is displayed in innovations across all mediums, a drive that runs uninhibited throughout the course of history.  It is beautiful.  There is something about exploration that establishes a sensation of togetherness with everything around you, it is quite literally the things that memories are made of.  When exploring a place, you give that place an observer, an individual interpreter of the universe, which gives that place a story, it brings it to life.  Maybe it brings it into consciousness.   Giving that region of the universe that you knew existed in theory an indisputable proof of presence. Giving it, perhaps the best gift of all, reality.

As the globe is conquered by man, we have shifted our explorations outward, into space, deeper into the mind, into the world of electronics, all of which are equally beautiful and incredible areas of exploration.  Theirs is an exploration of possibility, not of existence.  Exploring existence becomes harder and harder when everything is seen, and every place explored.

The art of exploring possibility persists however.  Existing in ventures of the top molecular biologists, physicists, and computer technicians of the day.  Top tier medical facilities and schooling institutions across the world are dedicating everything to this concept.  Quite an impressive feat.  A feat we forget that even we as individuals are completing everyday.  Every waking second of existence is nothing but exploring possibility.  As confusing as it sounds it is quite simple, it is the phrase "Anything is possible" applied as a lifestyle thesis.  Since anything is possible, all we are doing throughout our lives is exploring possibility.  We as people spend every waking second on the frontier of our consciousness, of our education, of our social stance.  That same region chased by the Steve Jobs' and Albert Einsteins of the world.  The space between what was and is, and what might be next.  I think we forget that sometimes.

So next time monotony looms, or when boredom approaches, remember that idea.  We spend all of our lives exploring possibility.  It is the driving idea behind the concept of a future, it is our navigating principle in remembering our pasts.  Life is an adventure, treat it like one.

Stay curious friends.

Stimulation-Response

I really wanted to title this post 'On Drugs; A Stimulation-Response Analysis' but that would sound like I would be describing the effects of various drugs, which I'm not.  Although it would probably be a fascinating read.  This post is an in depth, logical, analysis of why I personally believe that as a society we can not dictate what is or isn't appropriate (or legal) for people to put in their bodies as adults.

I will start by describing how I view EVERYTHING in the world, as a series of stimulants, and their resulting responses.  We live in an action-reaction world, the most complex system known to man.  At some point I made the decision to reorient my life in accordance with this action-reaction model.  I do something, that thing will have consequences, those consequences will either be favorable or distasteful to me and the people around me.  So logically one will pursue stimulation with positive consequences for themselves and/or the people around them.  Now let me be clear, this is NOT just about drugs/substance, but literally everything in life.  Why do you listen to certain music?  Why do you hang out with certain people?  Why do you watch movies?  Why do you go to work?  Why do you exercise?  Why do you join a club or church?  Because to you, the positive short or long term consequences of those actions outweigh the negatives.  It's that simple.  That is the essence of 'liking' something.  It is a stimulation that you respond to favorably overall.  But the key to this system is that it is all according to you as an individual.  Responses to stimulation varies from person to person to a huge degree, which is why we like different foods/music, have different friends, believe in different Gods, or no God at all.  Because on a neurological, intellectual, cultural, emotional, spiritual, and physical level, we have different responses to things.  So that in and of itself should be enough to invalidate any argument condemning, or trying to understand why someone makes a decision in their life, particularly one that doesn't affect anyone but themselves.  (Continued observations of people judging the hell out of each other, and me is what inspired this post)  So when I say I don't judge I am not saying that I don't feel the urge to condemn someone who makes a decision that I don't understand, because I do, everyone does.  I don't know why that person behaves how they do, but it evokes a negative stimulation.  The difference is that I am at a point where I refuse to come to any sort of conclusion about that person and try to not comment at all because I refuse to let stimulation control my life.  This is probably getting hard to follow but in short I am beginning to understand that we don't understand anything. Which is what prevents me from condemning or judging someone else, without a basis for what I feel and why, how can I pretend that I have any sort of superior idea to someone else? Of course the paradox of this being that that very sentence invalidates any claim anyone in the world ever makes, including myself... but hey if you haven't fallen asleep yet keep reading!  The sex drugs and rock and roll come next.

So with that not-so-brief synopsis of my thoughts on stimulation-response, I will apply those ideas to the biggest legal, moral, and intellectual grey areas in our society, the use of substance.  And I mean every substance, caffeine, cannabis, psycobilin, alcohol, opiates, tobacco, sugar, etc.   There are tons and tons of them, legal and illegal.  Obviously the legal ones aren't an issue, you are free to use or not use them as you choose, which is how it should be, but I think that it is a good basis to begin with.  Lets start with the two fully legal (all ages) substances that I listed above, but the example can be applied to all legal substances!

Caffeine and sugar, two things that often go hand in hand, are fully legal and actively promoted in the world, particularly in the U.S.  Now people use these substances or not, based on their INDIVIDUAL stimulation-response analysis of them.  There is huge room for abuse for both substances, caffeine being highly addictive and detrimental to growth as well as functionality if used in excess, and sugar being quite frankly your 'healthy' weights worst enemy.  But at the same time millions of people around the world are able to balance their use of these substances and lead normal lives.  Those who can't however are faced with the consequences.  Let's jump to the extremes.  A caffeine addict on a massive scale would literally crave caffeine all day, being willing (by their own stimulation-response) to go out of their way to have it, or being unable to function without it.  At this point their friends/family would likely advise them to quit it, but at the exact same time be entirely opposed to having the substance banned entirely.  The same goes for sugar, some consume it in excess, and suffer accordingly, possibly to the point where it hinders their life, and similarly their may be some effort to have this individual reassess their use of the substance, but not a large scale effort to ban sugar.  The INDIVIDUAL is being held accountable for their actions, monetarily, relationship wise, etc. because it was the INDIVIDUAL making the decisions.  The substance was perhaps a catalyst, but the substance is only a tool, it is amoral, not inherently good or bad.  Just because people crash cars doesn't mean we outlaw them.  Just because people become obese doesn't mean you should go and blame silverware.

Now on to the other substances listed.  I only separate by legality and societal view because that is how it is, not because I believe it is how it should be.  All substance should be treated the same.  Starting with alcohol/tobacco we see can observe that millions of people worldwide have run the stimulation-response analysis on these substances (albeit often subconsciously) and made the decision to partake in them.  Both have extreme health and addiction consequences, and both have destroyed countless lives and families.  But at the same time thousands of people are able to partake in the usage of these substances and continue to function quite well.  The same is true for the illegal substances on that list.  Many individuals chose to partake, and all deal with the consequences, positive and negative.  The substances continue to be tools.

The issue is that somehow, someone decided that some substances are innately bad, and forbid the usage of them.  And from a logical standpoint, it seems reasonable that one should try to avoid things likely to lead to negative consequences.  But, (returning to my argument of judgment made earlier) who are we to say that the simulation-response system created in one individual is innately wrong or right?  Why do we allow someone else's fine tuned system of understanding be applied to a large scale population?  It doesn't make sense.  In my mind it is equivalent to outlawing a certain kind of music, or food.  Just because you don't like it, doesn't mean it is wrong for anyone else to like it.  We live in a society of free will, one must deal with the consequences of their decisions accordingly however.  You are free to kill someone, but you must understand the severe repercussions of doing so.  But that is not true with many substances.  You are not free to use them, out of the fear of the potential of the negative consequences as perceived by someone else.  Now that seems unfair.

In my opinion all substance should be legal for personal use.  One just has to be aware of the consequences.  If you as an individual CHOOSE to do heroin and become addicted (like caffeine but only much more severe) you have to deal with the consequences of that action.  Whether it be you were hospitalized, or you turned to crime to fuel your addiction, you will deal with the consequences.  But if you are a functioning heroin user, you get to 'enjoy' the 'positive' consequences of your decision, and if you don't let it interfere with other things like work or family life in a negative way, nobody can tell you that you are doing something wrong.  They may have a separate stimulation-response outlook on it, but that doesn't make it wrong.

Much more timidly, cannabis use is this way, and being in a radical time of virtual decriminalization in some parts of the country, and a federal opposition strong as ever, it seems only fair to discuss it in closing.  How can one's decision to smoke weed be innately wrong?  It may be against your stimulation-response analysis, but that doesn't mean your simulation-response analysis is applicable to the whole world.  If one smokes and becomes a lazy stoner stereotype, the consequences of that are on THEM, not on the substance itself.  But if you smoke and maintain functionality, and enjoy the positive consequences without adversely affecting other areas of your life (like the last 3 U.S. presidents for example) how can anyone tell you that your decision is wrong?  It is no more wrong than liking different foods, listening to different music, or having a different favorite color.

The stimulation-response model of living life is not innately correct, but it is not avoidable, and being aware of that will help all of us in our decisions in the future, and hopefully make us all less judgmental of all decisions, particularly those persecuted unjustly by the law.  You deal with the consequences of your decisions, but the tools of those decisions are not to blame.  I have broken numerous bones skateboarding, but that doesn't mean I should blame my skateboard.  I made a decision based on stimulation-response, and dealt with the consequences accordingly.  I apply this philosophy to everything, and have grown from it as a person.  But it would be hypocritical of me to thrust it at you as 'truth'.  It is merely my observations, and my view of the world and stimulation-response analysis of it is no more correct than anyone elses.  So I guess in actuality I can't criticize the active condemnation of substance at all, because it is equally as misunderstood to me as substance use acceptance is to them.  All I can say is do you, and be ready to deal with the consequences of that.  Don't let those consequences be useless however, positive and negative, grow from them, learn from them, appreciate them as the facets of life that define your existence.

PEACE AND LOVE AND ALL THAT HIPPY SHIT I LIKE TO SAY.
-Jeremy

LABEL THIS

I've been thinking about language a lot lately. It's a pretty incredible concept, sounds and symbols that we have assigned to represent the entirety of the universe. And ask anybody, I love words, I talk so much I annoy myself. I think it's this drive to try and capture this crazy life and share it that makes me talk so much, and that is the point of this post.

I can NEVER share these experiences perfectly. Try as I may, nobody captures the true feeling and essence of an event through words. Try to explain your first kiss to someone. Try and tell them how that injury REALLY hurt. Make them feel it... But you can't. It's like trying to describe 'green' to someone that has never seen the color. It's like trying to convey the pain in your favorite artists song when they sing it to someone who hasn't heard it. You just can't do it. But leave it up to words to be prepared. The term for that is ineffability, not being able to put something into words.  Not being able to put something into words has a word to describe itself, and is itself all at once. It's ironic.

 The issue is that we take these words we hear, and THINK that we understand them, but they are concepts, abstract ideas, and everyone interprets them differently, despite having the same 'definitions'. The perfect example of this is labels, stereotypes, groupings of any kind, and that is what is upsetting to me. These arbitrary ideas and drawings that we have assigned meaning to carry a perceived weight that is outside of reality. How can you explain something so dynamic as life or love or pain or death in static, one word terms? You can't even begin. Similarly, when you hear certain terms you jump to conclusions about them, in an attempts to expand the full experience into that term. For example, the term 'stupid'. If you hear that someone is 'stupid' you rack your mind for all the other characteristics, traits, and tendencies you have observed with other people you would have considered 'stupid' and attribute them to that other person, even if they are untrue.

In my opinion that is the the basis of stereotyping, and it is a dangerous thing. It's dangerous because it allows us to make assembly line judgments about people, without getting to know them on an individual basis. Think about yourself! How many labels could you put on yourself that have extreme characteristics attached to them, that don't apply to you. I've been called nerdy, popular, reckless, hippy, stoner, saint, sinner, sensitive, heartless and everything in between. And maybe I do have a few qualities from all of those labels, and more of them! But even all together these terms do no justice to describing ME. JEREMY. MILES. LAWRENCE. Even that name can't grasp everything about me. It's all a generalization.

 Labels can be useful, and sometimes even spot on, and I don't even advocate that we get rid of them. But next time you want to describe something or someone, or hear a label put on something or someone, remember that it is nothing more than a word, and really those words are shaky at best. Give everything, and everyone a chance on its own. We are all original combinations of the words used to describe us, and even more, so treat the world like that!

I think that life, love, pain, and death are the four biggest words I know, not in length or definition, but when you really think about the things these terms represent.

So when someone asks you about me, or anyone at all, I hope you tell them that you couldn't describe them if you wanted to.

 PEACE.

Afrocolypse

Anyone who knows me knows about the fro. Some have given it names, many have asked to touch it, and most appreciate it. My parents and I fight over it. Now that sounds stupid, and it is, but my hair means a lot more to me than they realize.

We live in a cookie cutter society. For the most part we listen to the same music, watch the same terrible TV shows, dress the same way, talk the same way etc. It is the homogeneity of the American suburbs. It is something that I don't believe is good. It is something I actively try to avoid. Not to feel superior, but to feel different. I grow my hair out not to have an afro, but to show that one can be academically, economically, and socially successful without striving to fall within a standard image. I don't think there is anything wrong with the standard image, other than the idea of a standard image. I believe in individualism as equality. Not standards and guidelines to success.

I was told that I would never get a job with hair like this. I responded that I would not be willing to work at a place who did or did not hire me based on my physical appearance.

My parents don't understand that I need to have nappy hair. Not just an afro but fully uncut, unkempt hair. In a world driving me crazy more and more each day it is one of the only things I can look at and feel proud of. It is the byproduct of completely uninhibited growth, a representation of what I wish the children of the world got to feel spiritually and intellectually. It is my way of trying to recapture all the free growth stifled at every turn by the school system, job market, media, and politics.

I believe that one should be able to do what makes them happy, because it makes them happy. I can honestly say that I look better with short hair. Girls tell me that all the time. But right now, I don't care, because I love my afro. And when I get it cut, it will be because I wanted to get it cut, and for no other reason.

A Negative Epiphany

What I really want is a quiet mind. This drive, this incessant thinking about the world and live and the universe and everything is terrible. I've come to the conclusion that the meaning of life is to find a way to live life without ever having to ask what the meaning of life is. And sure all these hours of thoughts give a superficial glimpse as to what life is, but at the same time keep me from actually living it. I used to lose myself in thought every once in a while, and now it seems I am permanently lost in thought.

A few weeks into sophomore year I found 'it'. Nirvana, Tao, Enlightenment, Freedom, whatever you want to call it, I had it. And although most rationales about 'it' say that you cannot have it taken from you, I am living proof that you can. I was living a life that should have been a television series. I was getting the best grades of my life, but most importantly I was happy. And it lasted all through junior year, all the way until senior trip, 2011.

It's not that there was anything about the incident that broke me, but moreso the incident in and of itself did. I was a firm believer in the good of the universe. Call me naieve, call me stupid, but for just over two years of my life I lived with the premise that if all I put out was positivity, that was all that would be returned to me. And for two years that was true. And then one day it wasn't. Obviously any realist or pessimist is laughing at the fact that I believed only good would happen in the first place, but that was my god. That was my salvation. It was what kept me alive. And with the terrible fiasco that was Santa Cruz, it was shattered.

My parents knew that I was depressed. They didn't understand why. They didn't understand that my whole belief system was shattered that day. Maybe it was growing up. They told me that I needed to find ways to deal with it. The facade that nothing had changed made school bearable. But I couldn't keep it up all day, and it fell apart at home. I don't know how to deal with things. I never learned, because I never believed in it. Necessity is the best teacher however, and I learned how to cope. Things were better, but there was still something missing. Today I understand that what's missing is life. There is a big difference between living by coping, and living. I can't live by coping anymore. It's a lie, a facade you learn to keep permanently, but its not you.

Everything changed. My outlook on life. I used to walk around the world in love with life. And now I walk around demeaning people in my head, feeling negative, feeling worthless. The ideas I come up with, about the futility of school, the hopelessness of elections are ideas I wouldn't have even touched on before, they are born out of my new found belief that things are not inherently good in the world. That fact makes me hate them even more. These ideas arose out of desperation to justify my pitiful lack of motivation to continue existing. They are not mine. They are a byproduct of losing everything that I believed in. And yet knowing that fact makes me believe them no less.

So the question remains, how does one continue living after killing their own god?

I Hope They Laugh When I Die

Today I said that I laugh at negative experiences, which caused quite the uproar from other people in my class. Either they didn't understand what I meant, or they disagree, either way I love them no less, in fact, I'm laughing.

My reasoning behind laughing at negative experience is complex, and I will try to explain it for myself more than anything. Heeeeerreeeee we go.

First off when I say I laugh at negative experience I mean it metaphorically. When someone special in my life dies, I don't crack up. I believe that in the moment, pain and sympathy and all those emotions are quite necessary, out of both respect and natural reaction. Looking back, I want to be able to laugh at everything. Not literally, but I do wish to be able to find an amusement, a positive response to the things that affected me. This is strictly personal, I can only find amusement in the things that have played a part in my life. So I look back at it all, my depression, every mistake I've made, the loss of friends and relatives and I find solace in the amusement of it all. I appreciate them as the ingredients that make my life what it is.

Now the last paragraph describes the 'what' here is the 'why'.

I stopped believing in the conventional forms of God a long time ago. I will not pretend that I am right, but that is what happened. I don't believe in any holy text that has all the answers to life death and the hereafter. I don't believe in Divine Intervention at all. Most atheists or agnostics would agree with me here. But my issue with embracing this hands off, no rules God, or the lack of a God at all creates issues, which go largely ignored by those who claim to be atheists. Assuming there is no divine being establishing a 'right and wrong' how do we know what right and wrong are? Or is there even such a thing as right and wrong at all? Every society is based on laws or rules or customs, all of which come DIRECTLY from religion. Why is it illegal to kill? Because killing is wrong. Why is killing wrong? Because a religious text outlined it as so, and then it was accepted as convention. Morality in and of itself is a religious creation. It exists because we perpetuate it, it stems from religion. Now given all these facts, to say that you disagree with religion would be to have to come to totally logical and rational conclusions about these things and why they exist. If I don't believe in God or Hell, why follow any of these rules at all? The only conclusion I could come to was that there are natural positive and negative reactions to things. Some things make me happy, others make me sad. There is a sensation I appreciate, others make me hurt. Now this is true for the people around me as well. No outside influence of what is right or wrong, these hold true. One of the things that makes me feel good, is making others feel good, so one could claim that in life you should strive to make as much good for yourself and others as possible. And now you have established a code of 'morality' that is largely applicable to the people you meet and interact with. The things that make me feel good probably make others feel good, and I should interact with them accordingly. Now the only gap in the logic between this and religious based morality is the justification for the bad. Why does it exist, if not from some inherently evil force? I understand the evolutionary necessity of physical pain, but what about emotional pain? Why does it exist if not protecting me from some danger? I could not come to any sort of conclusion that didn't rely on the existence of some higher power or innate drive towards a collective spirituality. So I concluded that it only exists because we let it. The negative emotional response to things only exists because we lack a positive emotional response to them. So without a moral disposition to something being bad, we can refuse to let it be. And that is exactly what I do. I look back at heartbreak, and laugh. I look back at death, and laugh. I look back at depression, and laugh. Not because its funny, but because I refuse to let these things impact me in a negative way. I am not predisposed to feeling bad about them, so why do it? You can eliminate all the hurt you have ever felt by not looking back with an expectation of pain.

Now obviously this is a coping mechanism. I am not going to pretend like I discovered the key to solving all the worlds problems with the simple 'If I don't acknowledge it as a problem it doesn't exist' mind state. But people always ask how I stay so positive, how I stopped holding grudges etc. and this is it. This is the conclusion I came to that makes me who I am. Ideally I would like a world where this was unnecessary. I want to look back and see no negative experience to laugh at. But that is not the case, as much as I try to work towards that goal.

So at the end of the day, if you are not laughing at my funeral, you really didn't know me all that well.

By Necessity

I can't definitively believe in anything. Once I would have said I can't definitely believe in anything I can't witness (god, assorted scientific theories etc.) but after truly pondering what reality is, I realize that what I see is not necessarily anything at all. I disagree with the famous 'I think therefore I am' premise. The act of thinking is used to prove the act of existence. The reasoning being that I as an entity have to exist in order to be able to think about weather I exist. What if I don't exist, and neither do my thoughts? Or what if I do exist, but my thoughts don't? Supersensory experiences are considered 'hallucinations' or things outside of 'reality' but how can we define what reality is the real reality? What if hallucination breaks the mirage, and takes us back to reality? I don't necessarily believe this either, but since neither side has anyway to prove itself, it must be considered.

This dilemma is what forces me to put faith in experience. It is the only faith I can place that evokes both a spiritual, mental, and physical response, which is the only (but not necessarily the most effective) way to 'prove' that this 'reality' is real. When I DO things, experience things, it fuels a nameless drive. I define my existence by what I do. I prove my existence through response, both internal and external to the things I do. That's why I have to be doing something at all times. It reminds me that I still (naievly) believe that I am real.

The Mountain

When climbing a mountain, one spends considerably more time going up, and going back down, than they do actually on the top of the mountain. So while end goals and desires may inspire the journey, the reward is not logistically worth the struggle. And I think that's because the journey is the reward. We as a species just seem to have forgotten that. So remember, you are already living the best part of your dreams.

Life can't be an 'ends justify the means' system, because the 'end' is worth no more than the begging, the middle, or the now.

Addicted To Experience

I always said I had an addictive personality. At first I thought it was some genetic disposition to addiction, particularly to material things, but after quite a bit of thought, I have realized that I am addicted to experience. I am addicted to 'doing' or 'being' or 'living'. I want to go adventure, because I want that experience. I want to meet people, I want to try things, and I don't get addicted to the individual things, I am addicted to the experience enhancement. Now I am split between justifying this habit and suffocating it.

As far as justification goes, I would say that in my opinion there is no purpose to life. Or at least that there is no purpose given to life. I think purpose is a premise that we create, which in no way shape or form minimizes its worth. So for me, handed a life without meaning or purpose, it is only logical to take that life through the most diverse array of experiences I can, to find said purpose. Now the main conflict I came to with this thought process is that without a 'higher' purpose, the journey of the experiences is only limited by the drive to keep experiencing. So in a sense, if I were to do something that made me feel like there was nothing more to experience, the will to live disappears. Without any sort of moral predisposition, strictly viewing my body as a vehicle for experience, this risk stayed ever present. But similarly, without a purpose, who gives a fuck? Death in and of itself is an experience.

Now on the flip side, the justification for the antithesis of the last proposition, which I have also been pondering. It would seem that if life has no purpose, the creation of a purpose should not be something to strive for. In the avoidance of a purpose, each and every moment is appreciated as the total embodiment of existence, nothing more valuable, nothing less valuable. There is no inherent good, there is no inherent evil, there only IS. So live each moment, as it is. There should be no desire to strive for any 'experience' at all. So what would the purpose of stimulants be? Nothing. There would be no need to try them. The downfall here is that it is equally dangerous in the death realm. To not believe in your own existence as anything other than interpretation of useless events should remove any fear of pain or death at all, because those things too are useless.

For now I walk somewhere in between. Looking to experience the universe, while being engulfed in the now as it is.

For now, walking in between is driving me crazy.

Mind Expansion.

I had a chipotle lunch with JTroung today. The stories were incredible. I love that girl to death. We talked about anything and everything and I came to a few realizations.

Life is fucking crazy. In a way very few people understand or relate to.

You should never let go of your stories. They don't define you, but they do build who you are.

And that it is selfish of me to expect anyone to change for me.

Lastly, I should make this blog (which I obviously did) to keep everything I do, think, create, and believe immortalized for longer than I ever will be.