Welcome to the inner workings of the mind of Desmond. We hope you enjoy your visit, be sure to collect your gift coupons on your way out! au revoir!
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Enter my self hatred.
Self hatred is a funny concept, a crippling paradoxical paradigm of sorts. It often leaves you in a sense of utter and complete depression while, conversely all being directed at your inability to escape depression, thus forming a vicious circle that sinks you deeper and deeper until you've hit rock bottom.
Only,
There's no rock bottom.
The lowest denominator of self destruction is suicide. There's no point below that standard that is humanly even possible for a human with regards to personal self destruction. That's rock bottom.
How them do people pull out of the death spiral, if I may be so crude.
What magic mantras do these shrinks whisper into their ears while they have them seated on their mysterious couches! What makes a rational person give up his quest for rock bottom!
Only one thing can! Make him question his own rationality.
If he isn't rational, he isn't possible of cognitive thought, therefore all the relevant thought regarding ending the brain are processed as void and a 'suggestions' whispered by a stranger become the new absolute truth.
How else I wonder would it be possible to break out of the death spiral!
It surely couldn't be just a precisely measured cocktail of all the right ingredients, could it? Just a dash of societal conditioning, some disillusion here, some 'help' and 'support' from friends there, some wise counselling about, and voila, you're seemingly all patched up. But the thing about band-aids you see, is that over time, they seem to weather, and peel leaving behind the ghastly scar of the wounds they used to conceal.
No.
There has to be a better way of ending the death spiral.
Understanding the core reason might provide some insight into the motivation behind the self destruction, but decades of societal condition, not to mention trusted people like elders, parents and friends super-imposing their values on us have corrupted, if not jaded our own core personality, our sheer genetic make up.
This seems an uphill battle, but if provisions aren't made in a timely fashion and way in advance, the commencement of the war will only see us half dressed and improperly armed.
I'll beat this yet.
Without friends, without society, without fairy tales, without being told I'm crazy, Without God.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment