Stress Ages (grey haired presidents = evidence). Cannabis is excellent for stress. The world's most popular herbal remedy is a youth
elixir. Nailed it.
Sunday, August 16, 2015
Calling All Quarter-Life Angsters
There’s a reason so many vets are homeless. And Native Americans alcoholics. And young gods in their primes dead.
Society sucks.
Subjectively, that is.
Objectively, this is the greatest country in the history of the
universe. Highest glass ceilings;
plushest safety net (for those who choose to accept charity from a hegemon). But to some scarred souls, none of it is
worth it.
Neizsche, first among many, described the phenomenon. PTSD isn’t exactly the same as nihilism, but
it’s similar. Watch the supermarket
scene in The Hurt Locker. Read Into the
Wild. McCandliss was an old soul although
a young naïve one, that is to say, a searcher.
His sister’s “childhood trauma from a broken home” explanation galls,
because I believe I know her brother better than she did, which is sad; he
wanted to taste the marrow, to paraphrase Robin Williams quoting Keating. As did I, in my mid-twenties. Twenty-seven, actually, was the epitome of my
disaffectedness. Like Morrison, Cobain,
Hendrix, Joplin…
Once you’ve been exposed to the core; your soul flayed open;
what we lemmings are striving so purposefully to achieve appears – subjectively
– to be bullshit.
Fair enough.
I get jaded. I get
not wanting to participate in modern society if it means busting my ass to fit
in with drones about whom I could give a sippy cup of diarrhea.
If you were Native American, would you choose to assimilate,
to digest the colonizer’s ethos? I’d
shit on it.
If you were a rock god, at the absolute pinnacle of your
power, would you fixate on the futility of your existence, and giggle at the
finality of your death?
After inhaling the nectar, humdrum workaday living (which we
all pressure each other to idealize, for some reason [we’re dependent upon one
another for tax funded infrastructure development, so we enter into a mutual castration
compact]) is noticeably bland. Gimme
flavor! Gimme vivid! Something which stimulates my spirit, otherwise no thank
you.
The Buddha is considered to have become enlightened. Subjectively, of course. His main message was: become willing to give
it all up.
Hindus believe anyone can become enlightened. Millions of Indians are holy men; you can be too.
Give it all up, and catapult yourself out of your comfort
zone – just don’t give up. Choose existentialism. Choose transcendentalism. Find your
Purpose; don’t let anyone else tell you what it is. Except maybe a Shaman.
To give it all up is to make a great sacrifice; the closest-to-guaranteed
way I know to launch one’s self on a spiritual trip.
Buy a one-way ticket with the last of your cash. Bring a backpack, and gifts.
Or not. Ok but be
warned: You may be your own best
bullshitter but you can’t fake it forever.
Your superego’s mission is to drown out your id. But your iGod will out if you let it. Let it, before you regret it. Be the god of your life in your prime; refuse
to be anyone’s bitch until you’re good and ready to surrender to the bliss of
monochrome oblivion.
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