I can’t really pinpoint exactly when I had this hysterical (albeit an objective) view but I remember some few years back when after rolling in the sheets with some girl from school I went to the bathroom feeling like I’m on top of the world, then I looked in the mirror and everything changed. A peculiar melancholy swept through my soul, exit it, and took the entire space not occupied by me in that lighted bathroom. You could put me in the middle of the sun and I’d still feel that darkness. The sorrow was so thick I could feel it to the bones. I felt precisely the devil’s laughter, one Schopenhauer alluded to happening after copulation. I was a bit drunk but very lucid. “You fool. You did it again. Now what?” I felt the chills right to my marrow. “Now we go back into the world with the febrile purpose of conquering it all over again for the sake of ASS.” You’d wake up tomorrow and go to that job you hate so much for the sake of earning that pitiless paycheck that evaporates before you know it, mainly because you put a big part of it on that car you got on credit and/or on the mortgage of the house you knew you couldn’t afford but bought anyways all to impress the world in an ever endless race of furthering your genetic legacy. All the miserable accommodation of the things you know isn’t you but must be pedaled to fit in and earn society’s fickle validation, all the bullshit that robs you of sanity and health, the immense sacrifice made at the expense of your nerves year after year in order to get to the next piece of ASS. All for a piece of ass! “It’s just ASS,” the words keep lighting up in my head as I exited the bathroom, tired and loopy as I ever was.
That day I believe I understood the concept of true freedom, not the type the enslaved delude themselves into having while riveted to their shackles, I mean a complete unadulterated freedom that starts inside and radiate to everything external. The type of freedom that, with open arms, welcome life and death. The type of freedom that knows no loneliness or isolation. The type of freedom that is non-dependent. And it’s not physical. BE NOTHING. There is something very liberating about meaning absolutely nothing to the world, to society, even to one self. Of course this is strange and completely disagreeable to someone that’s never been told such things but to the few souls that gets it they understand. Once you strip yourself completely of the ego that keeps the world running, once you’re willing to roll the shit up real nice and chuck it right back and hard at life, you my friend are at the mercy of freedom. I began to reject everything, the party scenes that leaves me drained at the end of night, the empty garrulous conversations that’s the result of mere proximity, gatherings that did more damage to my psyche than any drugs could, follow ups of those gatherings that inhibit replenishment of the soul, the stupid praise that requires you to give something back, the stupid human gifts they hope to give you, the half-hearted hugs, the thank-you’s and its acknowledgements, the celebration of successes and its never endless achievement, the handshakes that makes you want to run for the hills, the half-hearted smiles that clothes the rottenness of the motherfucker pretending you matter, the lies that covers everything humans do and say so as to soften the blow of existence. All of it. I subtracted from my ambivert life-style and embraced unapologetically my introvert nature.
Of course lifting the veil on truths and facts of life require one’s willingness to leap deeply into the abyss of existentialism; it requires facing the shadow that blackens everything; it requires work and the effort to seek the unpopular (great) minds our world has ever produced, and the only type of man capable of such journey is the man who is not content with being a fodder in the illusions humans enjoy so much; a man whose nature offers zero tolerance for anything or any belief that seeks to shield the truth. The man who is able to come out on the other side should rejoice and even then he should doubt himself and question everything…
Consider that 40 or 50 years from now you’d be no more. Gone. And few years or few decades later completely forgotten. Nothing you are, nothing you ever accomplished, nothing you ever created, no one you ever know, nothing you have or ever owned,…none of it matter. There is absolutely no meaning whatsoever to existence. Very few people are capable of accepting this fact, and even among those are the ones that’d tell you that one must create meaning in life lol. They are able to accept some of the truth but to go all the way poses a certain horror that mustn’t be faced so they conveniently dress up the truth just enough to cushion the landing, unwilling and unable to accept that life is completely and utterly meaningless, that even the “meaning” you thought you created is meaningless. However, the man who has come out on the other side would probably just laugh hysterically at the farce of it all and live fully because he knows in the end, none of it means shit.
Life is comedy but very few people get the joke…
I’ve always maintained that no man alive love life like I do. Why? Because I love who I am. I don’t love myself, I love who I am. There’s a big difference. And my suggestion to the man reading this is to explore who you really are. Who are you? And when you find him do you like what you see? Better yet does it matter?
I admit that things here written isn’t for every man, as a matter of fact it isn’t for most men, and that is OK. However, one statement every man is capable of considering and maybe have a good laugh afterward is…IT’S JUST ASS.