bite the head off a mic

things aren't what they seem. the problem is the seeming. part of the problem is within us. maybe i should say... within me. i, the human being. we, the human beings. the presentation aspect of our lives. the social mode. one aspect of seeming. the way the world seems. the problems that we face as we try to empirically catalogue our existence. we look for things like truth and fact. we are unwilling to live ambiguously. our notions must be firm. our moral codes consistent and, for the most part, conservative. i have to have a picture of what i am. i have to be able to look around, use my sense perception, and reference beliefs in order to keep it all together.... and i am keeping it all together to remain in a state of acceptability. i want to hold it down long enough to have extraordinary perceptual experiences and to have a child or two. the thought of family life is not foreign to me. i have watched cheese dick movies and read emotional novels. i feel the emotional rhythm of the human existence. i am compelled to conform to moral norms. but it certainly doesn't mean anything. we are not getting at any truth.

it is quite simple.

one can choose to act in a way that, the local majority ensures them, will make them more likely to succeed.

or

one can choose to risk it all for thrills... compulsive acts, fueled by urges.

it is a scary world, and the God notion plays the role of conceptual watch dog. sex has a role, science has a role, all the things that human beings do. all the things we spend time on. the things that impinge upon our thoughts. we have tried to infuse this existential landscape with purpose and truth. i, as a unit within we, have come up empty. a budding nominalist. head games. comfort zones. designated success and designated failure. i will not deny that certain patterns have emerged. it seems that certain dynamics within the larger patterns have either appealed to our cognition or a physical situation has arisen in which we have randomly fallen into the grooves and tried to maintain a certain stride within that which has been provided. i do not pretend to have the ultimate anthropological, biological, psychological, and neurological knowledge (etcetera) to be able to make a complex or sufficiently accurate claim about why we live the way we do. but i am certain that whatever this current mental/cognitive environment happens to consist of in its entirety is ultimately arbitrary. unbelievably improbable. all this bullshit language. all of our bullshit dynamics.

and...

all these formulations are useless. thinking that i know anything is useless.

i still have to carve a life for myself. i still have to put my options on the scales. will i go out and slay babies because i can? will i be able to laugh at moral convention and avoid the fear that gets to most that entertain notions of radical non-conformity? it really doesn't matter. my existence is as much of a blip as any other existence. my quarrel is with the escapist tone of it all. it seems like we, human beings, are hiding in the protective bounds of our ingnorantly formulated relics. we, human beings, are unwilling to face existence as a purposeless endeavor. we are incapable of creating the necessary meaning. incapable of motivating ourselves without notions of metaphysical truth. most people don't even think enough to entertain these possibilities. that keeps me awake during the dark time.