NOTE: The following may be worked into a part of “Primer” in the future.
Ever wonder why some people just have to be alive? Ever wonder it about yourself? You should have done at some point; life is given and then accepted, not merely operational outside of our individual remits.
I keep receiving stupid comments to the effect of “You are stupid.” — even after that recent video where I spoke about arrogance, and my desire to improve as a person, and a necessary part of that being feedback-in-friendship, as I like to call it. Relationships are two-way streets, even between master and student; the master gives lessons and receives the obedience of the student, and the student receives lessons and gives his obedience to his master, and from this a synthesis is born to the benefit of both persons. The more neutral relationships in life are likewise, and a part of that equation is respect. Respect for the other person in their actuality, and the desire to nourish that actuality and to see it blossom; to see your friend as their true selves, without any dirt or grime hiding their face. My worry is that the internet acts as a sort of grime in most instances, and spectacles — events — take the place of human beings and their actions and circumstances. This would explain the cold and empty insults I seem to be receiving here and there; not one of these persons wishes to actually change my behaviour — indeed, when I ask them what exactly the problem is, and what can be done, I am met with silence or deflection from the vast majority.
They are merely spectators staring at a screen, dribbling from the side of their mouth, enthralled like zombies to the static and ultraviolet light which their god Sony antibaptises them with. It is not enough that their opinions are discarded as those of mere parasitic critics, but rather to the nature of their very lives and the sorry and weak state they are in. For if they were truly alive to the extent of feeling the static from persons instead of monitors, then they would be energised and activated by that, to the point of nourishing their own actualities — and the soul, of course, longs for itself in others; thus Athena was born of the forehead of Zeus, Christ from God, and so on: self-actualisation is the mission of the soul, and all true relationships, endepthed through patience and honesty, are likewise. Beauty is drawn to beauty; good people are drawn to good things; and thus the circle is completed.
What a pity our fleshly brethren remain so maligned and ignorant. We try to break them out, but they prefer their shackles — leopardskin-blindfolded children whose instincts treat equally a handshake and a blow. What a pity. We can but save a few; the lifeboats are finite and the ship is sinking. We loose the locks of their pens and yet they remain idle, only with mutters of “Go away.” Would a fox scare these hens? I doubt it; they are likely to remain stationary and point fingers at the fox; “Look! A fox!” they would cry; and as it begins to snap the necks of their fellows, they would just continue to criticise the fox before it reaches them and sorts them out. So much for fight-or-flight, I suppose.
It is as if we are midway through something rather important, and all of a sudden we hear cries of boredom — shut up, I say! At least wait until I am out earshot. Or is that my impatience showing? Do they need herding, these lambs of mine? These complications and questions tire me; make your bed, lie in it, and go to sleep — yet no-one has made a sound but I.
Conversations, conversations… it never ends, you know? Even the people who complain make their complaints known as if they matter. Just shut your face and go about your business; I will not bother you overmuch provided you make my semi-awareness of your existence worthwhile. Here, let me grab a copy of the Gospel of Saint Mark for you to rest your cappuccino upon — do not want to spill it, do we? Good, good: you are all settled now, back infront of your monitor, wasting your time reading this and breathing.