sesquipedalien

When you are doing something you have no heart to do, you do not deserve to be doing it, nor do you deserve to be. You are then, not of yourself, but a you of what your mindful sensibilities tell you to be. What is authenticity anyhow? I should suppose that it is your hearts living. Yet this is merely supposed because in essence your mind/practicality is also striving for its own authenticity. The means of a survival in the society which requires a certain practicality in order to live.

It is strange to see how alone you are. It is stranger still to see how dependent you are despite your onliness. Thoreau was not a madman “Walking” and thriving on his own philosophical pride. The reason to be authentic is to create a society that is equally authentic. A world that is created by parts that may not necessarily fit in pieces, but which, when merged together, are so profoundly in sync that if singled out it would lose its quality. (There is a reason why giraffes seen at the zoo and giraffes seen in a safari are two different entities which arouse two different experiences.) In effect, you are alone but you are alone only because you are not. Your individualism is only intensified/realized because you are a part of a greater whole. It is defined by you as much as you are defined by it.

I suppose this is the basis of religions, groups/communities, even cults: the sense of belonging to an “authentic” society in which “authentic” individuals should thrive. See, in observance this is not necessarily a bad idea. There seems to have been successful lives among certain such groupings. There do exist individual who ~are~ following their hearts, so to speak, and are enhanced by the society in which they belong. It can work. Has worked.

Here is when it all goes wrong: the claiming and enforcing of ones own authenticity on an other individual simply because of the faith and the assurance that this authenticity is the BEST and ONLY. Really, the absurdity of this is so…obvious! A maple tree cannot demand a redwood to identify itself as a maple simply so that the redwood can fit in its grove (brainwashing might work, but eh, that is another dilemma all together). Rather the redwood would, or should (heh) understand its individuality and reject the grove: It will not enhance it. In fact, even if born in a forest of maples, the redwood would perhaps not survive past a twig-ling. Trust me on this… you don’t see redwoods in a maple grove!

But maples do exist. So do redwoods. As they should.

Point: You cannot make some one be what they are not. Rather, accept what makes your self you and them themselves. Even if the seed is your own, the seed is, in effect, its own. You own nothing but yourself. Nothing you produce is yours after it has been given. These words may have been written from my mind, and I do hold responsible for them, but in essence these words are an entity in and of themselves. Simply the fact that they are mine in said does not mean I am or own the response they give to those that read them. I don’t own these words. I produced them. I let them be and do whatever it is that words do. I can try and guide them, cultivate them so that my meaning gets across as clearly as possible, but really it all matters on the words and those that take them. Nothing is mine except myself. If only that concept is understood will there ever be a world in which authenticities shall be and survive ~peacefully.~ And maybe happily.

The reason why I pour this all out is to remind myself that I do not deserve to be. I am all that I am not. I do not belong in the society I am in. I cannot thrive here and I doubt I ever will. There is a death-like characteristic that is creeping to my being and it is causing pain not only to myself but also to those around me. It was the LAST thing I wanted to be: a pain inflicter. But it is ultimately what you become when you are inauthentic: a wasted piece of shit with no qualities except that of a worthless piece of shit.

And with that, I take your leave.