Indifference.

Sat, 06 Jan 2007 22:28:01 GMT

Indifference is alien to so many of us, and we condemn it as something horrific.

But the things that happen in the world are insignificant much to our horror and dismay. People die everyday, stuck in the unstoppable seawave of injustices, starving for truth - but all that is so insiginificant in hindsight and foresight. The 70 years each of us live cannot even be dignified as a blip in the history of the universe.

However, after realizing the human mortality, and embracing the fact that one day the universe will collapse, destroying all of the shining accomplishments of the human intelligence overnight - we still cannot let go of our immediate present, and the people within our grasp.

That is why although we realize the logical validity of feeling indifferent to the deaths of our loved ones, we cannot stop ourselves from grieving and falling into such deep agony. It is contradictory, but it cannot be helped, for that seems to be our nature.

On a lighter note:
I don't like cars. There's something about that that really gives me the chills. I prefer buses or trains. I'm thinking of getting a motorcycle. Anybody know a good dealer?

An Oath

Tue, 21 Nov 2006 01:10:39 GMT

It is not for selfless reasons that I write. I write for myself, and in turn, for you. I believe that by writing in this journal and speaking to myself in this realm of internet, I am revealing my unholy self to you. There is, however, nothing more profane and more noble than writing of what I am, and it is the one thing I can do to contribute to the mankind.

The whole act of writing in a journal is, I suppose, narcissistic and arrogant. It is hubris. But if I am honest enough, I am certain that such sin will be forgiven.

Algiers of the sea and the brightness of sun that leaves no shadows is where I am from, and here, unfortunately, I do not smell the saltiness of the sea or the warm air. My dear mother sent me here to be properly educated, but it is indeed a financial stretch even with the scholarship.

I want to play sports of sorts, (and most of all, soccer) for the arena is where I feel most alive. I want to act on stage because truth behind a mask is the most illuminating of all truths. I want to fornicate and read papers, for I am a hedonist. I want to speak clearly and of only liberty, for it is my duty. I want to be just, for there isn't enough justice in the world. I want to be good, for I love myself.

What I will become by the end of my time here at Eupheme is a frightful mystery, for I am a man just as indifferent and perpetually torn between opposite ends as you are, but I promise myself and to you that I will give it my most during my stay here - because, though ends never justify the means, means could sanctify the end.

The Chronicles of the Absurd

Indifference.

An Oath