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And that is to be expected.
How brilliant people in the past through valiant efforts despite how the world seems to be against them, could still make a breakthrough even when failure seems to be a certain outcome to be expected
Recently, I have a lot of problems, life problems. Well that is to be expected, and over time, it just kept multiplying like chopping one head of an hydra, it just kept coming back for more. Some problems are technical ones and some are existential ones. Well I sure thought that for every layer of technical problems need to be backed up by existential ones, but I never even really figured out how to solve my existential problems. I experienced an overwhelming feelings to write about my problem as not to solve it but to understand it. Where are the feelings coming from? Where are these absurd sensory perception I have never felt before yet I feel absurdly familiar with as if it’s always been there but never to quite amplify in such a manner that I’m experiencing these panics. Am I the only one troubled enough to feel this problems? Why aren’t anyone talking about this? Do gee everyone seem to have a good time, at least those who those are around me, except my loved ones, who shared their fears and anxiety with me, and the existential problems become a common core.
The core is the the core, there’s nothing deeper than the core, the core is the being that makes you remember things, the one that helps you perceive things, the one that makes you know or feel that you’re doing something, it is the magical phenomenon called being called into existent. From very little I was told or we was told that being called into existent is a beautiful thing by the people around us, our teachers, parents, or even your friends around you. For some while I figured that my purpose in life or anyone purpose in life is to be happy. And that is an existential problem that I never figured it out what it literally mean and what it even stand for. Though I romanticized the idea of solving the existential problem, to know thy purpose. It’s fun to tinker and there’s goly more numbers of way that I could think of to approach the same problem, multiplied by the people who tried to solve the problem and also to mention, people in the past that has tried solving the problem and became a well known philosopher.
Language is a medium for us as humans to deliver ideas, language is a medium that helped us form cooperation between other talking humans to solve greater problems, language is a medium that helped us, as talking monkeys in space, land our foot to another planet, smaller planet, harboring our tiny planet, for what it seems, almost indefinitely, the moon. Language is the medium that I could express my true honest feelings about how I feel to a very special someone. Language is a medium that helped us, together as humans, achieve so many great things, and that is to be included, find meaning in our lives and to express joy or find meaning in our work when we found other people find joy from our work as much as we do. Language is a beautiful concept that seem to arrived out of nowhere but somehow fits perfectly enough to our vocal chords, sure there is many language but it seems to be pretty absurd to think about how the first language by the first human to go about eh? To mix up some vocal chords and label it with different object and to create a dictionary of objects and items, mixed it up with fancier and fancier literature on how we go about to explain things and then feelings, then we have language of stuff, so perfect we never even need to complain about it.
Language is my medium of choice to express my creative freedom. I certainly love writing as of recently, as much I love reading, or maybe more. I often ponder how works from people in the past, immortalized over generations or even millenia on how they approach a certain problem or explain how a problem came into being that is somehow ever so seeminglesly indefinitely a timeless problem. Because it makes who we are, no matter over generations or even millenia, we will bear a overwhelming problem of existent. To find a reason to go about living, and how to satisfy ourselves while we’re on it, it’s an absurd joke to see in a third person perspective but a horrifying nightmare in first person.
There will be anxiety that we will probably never get satisfied, no matter what path we chose or what degree we land on. There will be illusions of regrets in the past, there will be wishes to be young again and still not do anything when we had our lives quite frankly, all ahead of us, and waste it on past regrets and move on still waste our time on past regrets. There will be inexplainable regrets that we would feel that we are only experiencing it alone and our pain is unique to us to the point is that pointless to share our pain to the people around us despite we wholeheartedly know they will do everything that they have best in an effort to help us. There will be many ways we could go about hating ourselves. We will feel reasonable and we will comply of the fact when our what innner self told us and we will hate ourselves lsitening to it yet that inner self is part of us.
For me, my greatest fear would be the fear of experiencing the lack of satisfaction. The fear of having to realize when I was in my death bed I will look back and not be satisfied. I was afraid of trying new stuff, afraid of how I could come about in my deathbed and staring at my kids and say that this isn’t what I always wanted and I wished I could’ve been a better father. It was truly a horrific sight for me, even when I still have my life ahead of me. For quite some time I romanticized the idea of having kids, those who looked up to me as much as I looked up to my father and so much of his life that he has sacrificed and yet he has been if not almost always, silent. A mystery that perplexed me for all my years of living and I still fantacized the idea of being fanticized that a life well spent is to have someone that wishes to be more like me, as much as I hate myself and share my vulnerabilities over the internet, It’s truly gratifying to know that I have some attributes that someone wish they have. It adds a reason for myself to keep being myself.
I express my creative freedom through language. I wish for it to be timeless as much as much as it have helped my young self to be taught by my younger self. The purpose of my writings is to help me and to help other people that maybe fortunately find meaning in my writings. I love creating them as an effort to solve a lifelong problem called the problem of existing, the problem of finding a meaning in this finite-ness of a dome we call life, a sickening for some and liberating for some. An insanely beautiful love story between loving to life and loving some thing or even every thing that life has to offer. For that life has so much offer to use and we have so much to offer to live. It would be ashame just to not experience and give a lot of beautiful things to ‘life’ and things in ‘life’, for that I romanticized the idea of becoming a helpful human being, for my future-self that could in anytime have a nervous breakdown while experiencing existing, and also for people in the future relative from the time of this writing, when they’re struggling.
Some people may find and have said my article to be beautiful and helpful and some may percieved it as utter nonsense and say I should write something more sensical, but what is more depressing to spend my time and live my life following things I don’t like and wished that I didn’t do. Or perhaps I have been only listening to my own self-doubts that have spoken to me and rejecting the signals that I should’ve put more effort expressing my creative freedom or I’m not searching for enough noise in the space to find a good signal.
When I was in elementary, the teachers assign me with a task to answer a dream-ish question, it was a simple one, I bet most of you had it, it was ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ Or something in a long the lines or maybe ‘how do you picture yourself when youre older.’ For some time I picture myself to be an inventor or a creator, I want to choose to be something or someone that creates something that never been had. I couldn’t submit that of course, because I was supposed to draw myself wearing attributes that represents that dream and I am not sure what I could draw as much as I am not sure of what I want to create, it was just a blurry idea but I fantacized of that very own idea, could and would maybe, maybe in a glimmer of hope, gave my tiny feeble life meaning. The deadlines were becoming nearer and nearer and I had to submit and then I chose an Impostor syndrome, to choose what everybody else or at least what the person behind me was choosing. I choose to draw and specify for an architect, doesn’t give much feelings and impressions to me but the experience has been somehow still memorable decades later, as I’m writing this piece. For some nights I still want to answer that assignment but it left a tiny problem, had I want to draw to become an Inventor, I need to know what I want to invent. It was a tough question obviously, and after a while I think about it and finally realized that all the good ideas have been had, and it was better for me to choose a more sensical goal, is to be what everbody choose to be.
It was hurtful, the whole experience, even until now. I wish I could see and meet my past self and kneel down to him and say. “Yes! Yes! Yes you can be an Inventor, what a wonderful idea! You are the reason humanity takes steps achieving a greater goal above themselves as Individual, a dream worth pursuing is a dream that puts itself beyond the carrier, beyond everything else but the carrier. It is to be expected that the carrier feels insignificant compared to his idea. It is even almost impossible to perceive Socrates goal to know that his works is and remains immortalized accross millenia after his death. It is impossible for Sergei Korolev to imagine a dream that his work and contribution led him to be remembered across decades and have his picture of him hanged four hundred kilometres above our head in the international space station as one of the brightest engineer on earth and have his life ridiculed and being sent to Gulag for fucks sake, not even in his wildest dream that he fantacized a possibility million times more grandeur than his short sad life that is composed majorly in pain and misery. You are the reason that humanity kept going and achieving other talking money in previous generations couldn’t even be near to reminiscing the possibility, as we dream to become inventor, we hope to catalyze the growth of human species as a whole, as a group, we need not wish for our betterment of ourselves as an individual rather as a whole, through language and ideas, we can, and believe me when I say this, we can, and there’s really not much that is stopping you other than the tiny little voice from the back of your head that somehow convinces you that you couldn’t and you shouldn’t even try but you have me, a part of you that is from the future that wished you that you hold on to your dream to be a meaningful human being that has attributes that many wishes having. Be greater than your alter ego, and think about for once fucks sake, think about anything other than yourself, and from there you will finaly find meaning in your work, not many will like it and some may even crticized or even put an effort to stop you from doing it, and that is to be expected, and that is to be fucking expected.”
Started writing and finished in 28th April