Taking For Granted

[Cosmic Mist]

It's funny, isn't it, all the things we take for granted. I am a woman of my words, and when i come home at night and say that i need a hug, it is good to know that she, at least, understood that i am speaking the complete and unabridged truth, and that the warmth of her arms is all i need to feel as though something in this world is right, if only for a little while.

I find it so strange that there are so many acknowledged ways to tell someone you love them without even opening one's mouth, and yet in this world we somehow cannot even manage that warm smile or other gentle gesture to our fellow country-men, let alone someone who may not share our own ethnic heritage. I find it so bizarre that we'd rather line our own pockets at the expense of a fellow stranger, rather than hold out our handand help them to their feet again.

Why is it that we feel the instinctive drive to force each other to oblivion in such hurtful and meaningless ways? Governments taxing compensation payouts, mothers abandoning their only children, hunting endangered species until they are no more. Is it any wonder then that we see such hoplessness and futility in the process of growing and becoming 'human', when being'human' by its very nature connotes selfish destruction of everything beautiful for a few extra dollars at the end of the week, and perhaps an extra car for the 'family'?

...and what is family anyway? A construct designed to 'protect' children from the hateful lawlessness of homosexual parental love? A paradigm whereby people are enslaved to antiquated norms for the sake of a 'better' society? or simply a means by which to control and munipulate the masses into acceptable ways of seeming and being? I no longer know...

I used to believe that such things were all i needed to bring me happiness. A decent job, a roof over my head, a mother who loves me. Ah, there's the rub! A mother who loves me, or at least, loved me once. I used to be able to come home and say that i needed a hug, and she would be there to comfort me and love me, reassuring me that everything in this world is not as bad as it seems, and that tomorrow will be another day. That was a long time ago now though, and i can barely feel her anymore...

Now i come home to my empty appartment, and all i can do is sigh, I'd love to be able to just look around and know that she was out there somewhere, and that she wished me well. I know better than this however, her actions speak louder than any words she ever gave me could...

I sigh again to my lonely appartment and mutter quitely to myself.

"God, i need a bullet..."

 

[(Wordy)]

This certainly gave me plenty to think about first thing on a Monday morning! Cosmic Mist, you've written about important questions that we should ask ourselves, and done this in a powerful way.

Is it any wonder then that we see such hoplessness and futility in the process of growing and becoming 'human', when being 'human' by its very nature connotes selfish destruction of everything beautiful for a few extra dollars at the end of the week, and perhaps an extra car for the 'family'?

I'm not sure whether this is your own personal opinion, or the opinion of your 'character', but either way I hope you don't mind me saying that I disagree with it. I think such a belief is used to justify exploitation and all manner of selfish behaviour, but its basis in Darwinism / evolution science is problematised by the importance of cooperative and altruistic behaviour through the history of human evolution. Obviously this is contentious territory, but basically I refuse to believe that as human beings we are inherently destructive or selfish creatures. Of course we're capable of destructive and selfish behaviour, but we remain free to act for the benefit of others as well as ourselves, to mutually beneficial ends. I think the all-too-common 'negative' view of human nature is merely made up of values which we place upon ourselves, as part of a simplistic (mis-)understanding of our being. At the end of the day it depends which story (or stories) we want to believe, from the set of stories we tell about ourselves and how we relate to the world around us. All of these stories are artefacts of discourse - nothing more, nothing less.

Ok, so maybe I should've saved these musings for the Thought & Awareness forum?!