Can I sleep in your bed tonight? Can you feel your warmth again? The sight of her laying there, scrunching her face while looking at me, the sight will haunt me forever.
You nodded at me when I tried talking to you, you nodded at me when I said you'll come back home, you moved your hand.
You can't leave me yet, I know you're tired, ohh, oh I know you are, you told me
Gott GOTT HASST MICH, GOTT HASST MICH GOTT HASST MICH, Jahre lange, Jahre lang hab ich ihn angebettelt mich zu nehmen, und jetzt will er sie anstatt, GOTT WARUM HASST DU MICH
Gott hasst mich, also hasse ich Gott auch.
Ich habe Angst vor Gott.
Recently the feeling of not feeling has overtaken my body, what I mean is I don't feel like I control my actions, everyday actions.
I eat something, but I don't control the fork closing in on my mouth. I walk, but I'm not the one wishing to actually walk.
I've no control, the constant routine has influenced my body and mind to an extent that I perceive as unnatural.
So what am I? A human is defined by its knowledge of the factual ideology of free will.
So if I do not have said free will, free will over my actions anymore, what am I?
Am I not human? Am I a bad example of a human? Am I simply the unidentifiable mind of a body? Or am I no longer human? (pun intended)
If I am no longer human, simply a mind with a seemingly mindless body, then who am I?
Am I the mind, or am I the body? Am I the brain, or am I the flesh? I cannot be both, I don't wish to be both.
If a person has no control over their actions they lack free will, tho free will is what defines human, so people without free will are?
Aliens? Bad humans? Normal people? People with issues?
Sisyphus, the God who was doomed to forever push a round stone upwards, for eternity.
He was a god (in this thesis, tho I do not believe in his existence), but while pushing up this rock all day everyday, what does that make him? After a while you'd become a mindless creature, with no control over the physical flesh which has grown accustomed to doing the same action always.
And what does the mind do during this time? It thinks, maybe, maybe it has already turned off completely to try and ignore the pain originating from this gruesome task.
But let's say that the mind keeps thinking, sisyphus shall push the rock up the mountain, which he does, even unknowingly so with his body just doing whatever it has learned over centuries. The mind will think.
Why am I still doing this?
Why am I pushing this stone?
I'm tired.
I wish to stop.
But naturally, it doesn't stop, for the body keeps moving, for the happenings in the mind stay unsaid thoughts.
I am a being devoid of ability and talent.
I do enjoy reading philosophy books, or rather, it makes me feel superior.
Have you ever read a philosophy book?
They are idiotic.
Philosophers are good at using many words but making said words hold onto nothing, going on and on about a theory or general morals in a way that makes no sense.
Saying a lot but at the end you'll come out not even a bit smarter, that is what philosophers are.
I too could write texts with meaningful words which in the end, all equal to nothing.
I cannot embrace life, for I wander a path devoid of light and shadow, for I lead an existence devoid of mortality.
This hollow shape consumes meaning and depth, and may break down before I know it, so hereath when i say, there is no reason to calculate for the future, just as there is no reason to speculate, for knowledge of happenings is reserved for those who have been proven worthy.. Calculating the future simply brings burden of miscalculation and waste, while not doing so brings burden of exhausting times and regrets.
So now, what from this block of jumbled words made sense? I'm sure the only properly grabbable thing you could deviate from this was the mention of depression and an useless body, otherwise just jumbled words put together to form barely recognizable and easily forgotten sentences.
Let me rephrase, the sentences make sense, but they have no proper point they wish to lead onto, nothing they hold onto, nothing they try to explain in understandable ways.
The skin on my skull is too hot around my facial flesh, my undergarments are too tight, the weight on my nose from the protection glasses i had to wear, the cloth rubbing on my skin is too spiky, my protecting layer of skin is too dry, my legs are too light, my torso is too heavy, my eyes are uncomfortable in my eye sockets, the hair falling into my face is scratching my forehead.
My body hurts.
Why does it hurt?
I do wonder, was there ever a day in one's life when one has not felt pain?
Physical pain? Was there ever a day at which you didn't stub your toe? And if you didn't stub your toe, did you scratch your hand, and if you didn't stub your toe and neither scratched your hand, did a muscle get stuck and cause pain for a few seconds? Has there truly ever been a period of 24 hours in which someone did not feel pain (Physical pain specifically, if we were to start with mental pain every depressed little peasant would scream "nooo, nooo, i'm so sad every day, always been")
This question indeed excludes self inflicted pain.
I enjoy pain.
Be it for sexual, mental or physical pleasure, i enjoy pain, but only when self inflicted.
Why?
There are quite a few people who enjoy pain (mainly sexually) but i dont believe they enjoy not-self-induced pain.
But why?
Inflicting pain on ones own body stems from depression, harming oneself is a pitiful try for redemption "Im so disgustiung i deserve this!!" "I shouldnt be allowed to live" (please excuse my degrading choice of words, i am including myself in each statement either way)
Then why dont these people react the same if they stub their toe? "Im so disgustiung i deserve this!!" does not usually come to mind when experiencing not self induced pain.
My thesis states that it gives a sense of control.
Naturally, more than just a few may practise self harming behaviour for attention, but i do believe the feeling of general control plays into it.
You control what's hurting you, you hurt yourself, you can stop or go on, you can do it here or there, this way or that way.
The control and questions the word "Pain" brings with it are almost unending.
What is pain?
Why is pain uncomfortable?
Why does this hurt?
Why does that hurt?
Why does it hurt?
At which point is general discomfort considered pain?
I have talked about pain several times in these chapters ive created.
But what is pain really?
Pain is extreme physical discomfort
Pain can feel like a cut, a stab, a burn, a prick, pressure, it can feel dull, sharp, durable, impossible to endure, and it can be anywhere and everywhere in your body (except the physical brain itself)
Harm naturally also comes in addictions, truly everything done too little or too much is self harm.
Too little sport, too much sport, eating too little, eating too much, taking too much medicine, not taking enough medicine, not going outside enough, going outside too much.
I always find it amazingly interesting to notice how truly fickle, and at the same time, extremely powerful the human body is.
A person may die unexpectedly at any time, another person declared dead shortly before, could come back to life right after.
You may harm your body for years and years and do not experience too many negative effects, while another person harms their body once and tastes the most negative effects.
Pain is magnificent, it can serve as reward and as punishment, as a form of teaching and a form of pleasure.
Indeed, it can also serve as a form of trauma and abuse.
I wish to harm my body only in ways I approve.
I enjoy body modification, so I will modify my body, this ordeal hurts, I embrace the pain in exchange for self evaluated beauty.
I do not wish for my body modification to hurt after it's been done, after all that would affect the healing process (I am currently in a disarray because of that, please excuse my short lived switch of themes)
Again, why do we accept self induced pain, but not (almost) any other kind?
Training. When training in order to gain muscle you destroy
Fyodor Dostoyevsky said that 'Beauty will save the world' now this can be interpreted in many different ways, regardless, I deem it as incorrect!
What will really save the world is creativity.
Hitherto man has found himself in a slum due to lack of creativity, beauty be for naught!
Creativity has no need for beauty, creativity is beauty in itself.
Heareth me, thee shall embrace and stay thoughtful about the word 'creativity'.
Self expression in the form of creativity, yes! Heareth me, for I shall tell you the truth, I shall articulate creativity and it's beauty for you!
Heareth me!
Please, hear me.