Karma

There was this article that kept reappearing in my social media feed entitled “karma doesn’t work the way you think” or something. Wasn’t that interested in reading it rather than the title. Somehow when you’ve lived through a few storylines in life from start to finish you recognise that the title is incredibly meaningful by itself. You look back at stories of the past or you hear young children express anxiety for the future and you smile because there are things you already know not about what will happen, but the laws you know by now govern it. The faithful calmness doesn’t come from karma, but it’s faith in the eternal interaction between the laws of life and the human you have before you, the product of billions of years of karma. Sometimes when something is building up inside, events and people might unfold and say things respectively almost supernatural in connection to your own situation. Connectivity between everything makes karma feel almost democratic.

When Jim called to arrange to meet up, I knew karma was coming. He’s one of those people who have affected my life profoundly, first time we had sex was together, first person who told me I made a huge mistake to have had a kid just after having had it and my kid’s favourite one of my friends. Essentially the most important thing we taught each other was how to love the opposite sex. We spent the day together and talked and talked about frustration and covid and married life and kids and our pretty female friends being the most under-recorded group of bullying victims. There’s something about people like that, which reminds you what you are, where you came from and then magically the stars align and something that was blocked is finally freed. Somehow you stop wondering what will happen next and you remember that you knew all along that whatever happens will not be just or good, but will make perfect sense one day.

https://bigthink.com/culture-religion/karma-doesnt-work-how-most-people-think?rebelltitem=6#rebelltitem6

Manic compulsive monogamous bonobo

Really bonobos are disgustingly sexual, they do everything imaginable, which contributes to social cohesion. So, imagine being a manic compulsive monogamous bonobo. That would be so perverse and sad… it is probably the bonobo equivalent of paedophilia. You wouldn’t be able to connect to anyone and as if that wouldn’t be enough, you’d probably be ridiculously sexually frustrated. When I studied biology, we learned that monogamy is probably the worst strategy in the animal kingdom and unless things are a bit rough, makes no sense whatsoever. Me and a group of my closest coursemate friends gathered case studies, evolutionary biology and ethology related information in order to make a case for monogamy. We knew we didn’t have a case almost from the beginning, but we kept looking and putting in our all. Finally, we presented our case and won the debate as a result of popular vote. Most of our coursemates voted for us, even though the other team was just so blatently better. Poor sad lonely monogamous bonobo looking at the sunset with your headphones on, you may be miserable, but there is an alien self-conscious species full of fucked up freaks who feels for you.

Waiting

Waiting for climate change, true love, a virus, the matrix, a breakdown, the aliens, endless loneliness… some kind of catharsis. Clearly reality is not functioning and I don’t really know to what extent I have ever lived in it. Climate change… oh don’t even get me started on that, an idiotic manufactured notion to mask resource over-exploitation, overpopulation for no obvious reason other than obscure economic notions that make no sense but to an economic elite that uses humans as a resource, mainly for the purpose of eventually blowing them up. A virus, yeah sure, but it’s pretty clear by now that more than one will be required to make any significant impact on human population expansion, I mean even cancer has been lagging behind. True love, yeah ok, that could work, but hasn’t so far, so why would it now? The aliens, clearly cannot be bothered with this shit. A breakdown though followed by endless loneliness… Nothing makes my heart jump with longing as that promise of complete freedom.

You get to an age when you realise that your dark perverse mind is the companion you’ve had all along and the one who’s always been there for you. You know when you think about all the pretentious bullshit people do all day and laugh to yourself wildly, finally feeling like you belong… to your own internal dialogue? You can’t really call that happiness, but isn’t happiness being free and when do you recall being as free?

Yet I never trusted creativity that didn’t come from love, you can always detect the flatness of one doing stuff for the love of god or their own pathetic ego. You can detect it in the lifeless structure of sentenses, the sobriety of the vocabulary and the sleepy line of thought.

And thus I only can see one way out to freedom, catharsis and creativity… a broken heart! Endless loneliness induced by extreme emotional pain, unimaginable longing, like a dark night illuminated by blinding stars. That is the only way anyone can be truly free. Oh god I’m literally laughing so hard right now.