Talk therapy II

…because knowing the end is the surefire way to move forward right.

I AM still listening.

Previously, my head is still a mess.

In fact, I don’t think it will ever get as tidy as I want it to be. Science knows that the beauty of the mess is what procreates life. So, might as well let it be.

“TRUST mommy’s words, and you know you’ll get there,” said my mother when we were driving home late last night.

The last time we spoke, she told me what’s wrong. The time before that, I was not responsive. The previous notes I wrote in here, I committed myself full-time to do writing as my main course of living. When the soul dies, then rose up again, it knows exactly what to do after it awakens, without hesitation.

ALL THINGS ARE TRANSIENT. All things are temporary in this world, in this life. When you’re dead, it doesn’t matter. What matters is love, and true happiness. Money is not happiness.

“As long as you have a good heart, it’s all good. God knows.” That’s the vision.

Taking a trip down to memory lane from the last page in Talk Therapy I, the problems are: I fear making myself not useful and therefore life not meaningful. Behind all that fear lies my deepest yearning to put all my heart into all things I really believe in; all people I feel for and desire to give to.

“I used to believe in Ai. You know Ai. Everybody knows Ai. I threw her away…” I told my mom and I told my friend. The friend tells me I am being a crybaby. But my mommy tells me other things, more important things.

ONCE UPON A TIME, there was this character called Ai who dreams. She daydreams a lot, both day and night. I told everyone I love around me about her, and how cute she was and how much she means to me. She faces fears in the world but with a cheerful heart that never dies. She doubts whether she can reach the moon, and with every full moon passing her by, she cries at night. She’s no pig, but she can’t fly either.

Yesterday I was watching my videotapes when I was still a kid. Chubby cheeks, curious eyes, and fascinating smile. I don’t know who she is, but I don’t recall myself as that girl. Hold on. She’s a lot like Ai. I watch her move in front of the camera. What may become of her?

“Do it,” my mother tells me. That girl loves to dance. Whenever she gets tired, she does not want to do anything else but hug her mother. The other day on the Discovery Channel, I saw a momma hugging her baby chimp, caressing the kid as if she the kiddo meant the world to her, and then nothing else matters. 

DO WHAT? I was so confused. That girl on TV looked curiously at the camera; what is this light? Why am I here? Where am I going? I just want to be in the comfort of my mother’s warmth, as my “dada” in the corner is watching after me.

Even if I don’t seem to be in his arms as often, I dream a lot about being in his arms, because then, I have believed the lie I tell myself that I have a father’s warmth.

From the bottom of my soul in the depth of the oceans there’s a heavy burden of water dying to flow out, in speech of words, to convey this innate desire to give, search for like-minded souls, and bind for eternity. 

I have always, always thought it would be the form of alma mater, so it goes that I’m stuck behind hardcovers and Penguin paperbacks. But maybe, just maybe, I’ve found it all along, in my head, on my mind, from the heart, on the paper. And her name is Ai.

DO: Write.

My mother pets my head and caress my head slowly as I cry. “Good kid, good kid…”

I was in tears the whole time I was talking the other day to my mother. Now, all I do is keep listening.

SHUT UP AND LISTEN is probably the most popularized advice there ever is out there, but it’s priceless. Maybe it’s the multimillion-dollar marketing industry that keeps unfulfilled spirits alive, and I seem to recall telling myself lies, damned lies, and therefore keep finding statistics out there to keep myself alive:

… But the positive lies I tell myself are no longer lies. In fact, the act of lying to yourself pushes your limits so that you collect as much mental capacity for yourself to prove and tell the world your truth.

And then now my mother told me that as long as I remember I’m a good person, then I’m all good. And then my problem does not seem like a problem anymore, so much more than that it has become a solution. 

“At the most specific level, these are your problems: 1. You are afraid that you will become a useless person. 2. You have a big heart that you have a deep desire to give.”

GIVE, with all my might I give off my time and effort to make everybody else happy that I’ve forgotten how to give myself. She told me, on the car ride back to home last night after a whole day of shopping together, eating together, laughing together and, to a degree of crying together at heart, we shared the happiness I haven’t felt in a very long time, wasting my time worrying about the world, and the inequalities everyday we face, and the poverty that does not make living my own life seem fair, and the racial boundaries we all seem to differentiate among ourselves when the truth is that our soulful human touch and the capacity for delivering it to one another, is only separated by the thinnest organ enshrouding our body: the skin. Much more deeper beneath the skin lies prisoners of its soul dying to be free and feel that they belong to Mother Earth and as part of the citizen of the world. As all things are transitory, we can never stop fighting for our belongings, and about our differences – Which should we take and what should we give away? But we have long failed to realize, then remember, that we’re so much more similar than we are different from one another, as does haters have forgotten to see eye to eye with love, beauty, health, peace and prosperity, springing out of the lost place in time of which we originate from, that which we are growing more and more of our desires to go back in to.

IN TRANSIT, do we fight or do we fly? Which is better?

Then again, this is just an opinion. Atypical. Ironically, I am urging the readers of my diary to conform. A public outcry is merely a means to end self-destructive behaviors in me, but I’m hoping also that this means the start a union movement in the human trial to harmonize, in spite of our ugly, unfriendly inequalities dividing us from others we yearn to conform with, all coming out of the unimportant things just above our skin. It’s unreasonable. What more can we do if we are mere prisoners in our own skin?

“Luna dear, picture this: You are just one person. You are neither God nor a goddess, far less a fallen angel. You are just a human being. To the globe, you are one, tiny little dot. If you stop believing in yourself, if you cease to exist, and then you’ve failed living. You live as if you do dying as a living.

YOU ARE JUST ONE PERSON, and you cannot save the problems on Earth all by yourself. I know you have a big heart, my dear, but you are my little girl. You’re young and you still have a lot to look forward to. In time, you can do whatever you wish to solve the problems of the world, if it still worries you later; but right now, seek your own happiness, and your sphere of influence can have a bigger impact on the people within your reach than how big the globe is as it is right now. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Hmmm…” And I’m still listening.

“Don’t you see? If you disappear into the deep, dark hole that is only one tiny little dot, you really become nothing. You fail to come into existence. Look at me,” she glanced at me.

I LOOKED into her big, black eyes. Classic beauty of the Orient. I see the same pair of eyes every morning in the mirror. 

“I can guarantee you can get the things you want to get by the end of next year. You can earn a title, and you can guarantee a lifetime of trust with your loving partner. Mommy trusts you, daddy too, both your brothers are behind your back. You can earn them if you really, really want to. It’s your happiness and it’s right in front of you. Do you get me?”

“Yes, but…”

“Throw away your worries for now. Leave it in the back of your mind for later.”

“I know.”

“Do you trust yourself?” Her eyes thrusted through the retina of my eyes, all the way from the cornea. Skin of the eyeballs, so to speak.

“Yes, I -“

“Good. Mom has a lot of trust in you. I have a lot of confidence about you, dear. If you are willing to give yourself happiness, then you have succeeded in life.” 

THUS, this undying soul is for my mother. I didn’t see any monetary exchange between our eye contact, though.

Money is not happines. Money can’t buy happiness.

From the back of my head, a little girl with chubby cheeks and curious eyes, in some distant time, is pleasure-seeking all by herself behind a camera. And then after a while, she runs back to her loved one and give a big, big hug.

After we arrived home, I grabbed a guidebook to writing, pondered upon its words before I go to sleep.

“TO WRITE a good memoir you must become the editor of your own life, imposing on an untidy sprawl of half-remembered events a narrative shape and an organizing idea. Memoir is the art of inventing the truth,” writes William Zinsser in his best-selling guide to nonfiction writing, On Writing Well

To the world, I am just one tiny little dot. And I’m still shutting up and listening.

But, I do write.

SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries

Camping’s ‘invisible’ idea; fear as worldview, part I

ARTICLE

May 2011

 

 

“Assuming that rapture is nature’s play with man, the Dionysian artist’s creative activity is the play with rapture.”

- Friedrich Nietszche

We fear the end of the world, but we love the idea of the end of the world. At least, in the world of Harold Camping, self-made doomsday prophet who mobilized the May 21 deception, spreading the idea that Jesus’ Second Coming has a set time and date on Earth.

Over weeks following the supposed Judgment Day, he and his followers have spent millions marketing the prophecy, including his 48-year contribution to the Family Radio network, now reportedly worth up to $120 million dollars. Despite his failed prediction in 1994, stating that he miscalculated last time but now firmly believed his math is right before last Saturday, this time round he managed to pull in $100 million donation for the campaign, putting up billboards and operating RVs nationwide. The price: he has created a subculture of fear, and in return, nothing he prescribed happen at 6 P.M. on 21 May 2011. His disappointed followers, having believed in the approaching doom for some time, struggles to cope with the reality beyond Camping’s teachings, that is, the rapture that failed, twice, to materialize. Now he is “flabbergasted,” and further gained notoriety since his last prediction, saying that something did happen last Saturday, something not physical, but more of a “spiritual Judgment”.

“There’s going to be a huge earthquake that’s going to make the big earthquake in Japan seem like a Sunday school picnic,” said the doomsday preacher to CBS News on May 20. As the weekend goes by with the world still thriving in existence, atheists partied hard. Fully engaged Tweeters living in the United States popularized their individual ideas about The End in the trending topic #endoftheworldconfessions, followed by #myraptureplaylist. This includes tweets like:

 

Doctor SwaggerLlLTUNECHl

#EndofTheWorldConfessions ….the world ain’t ending son, my yogurt expires in 2013 … #ThugLife

John Coronajohncorona69

>#endoftheworldconfessions I used to steal cookies from the cookie jar :P

The Dark LordLord_Voldemort7

em>#endoftheworldconfessions I am gossip girl. You know you love me xoxo

 

 

But the Earth shall be swallowed by a fireball on October 21, 2011, when the world would really physically end.

Now 89, the Oakland-based radio broadcaster has influenced everyone else but the people closest to him, reaching to listeners in Europe, Asia, and Africa. The Christian Post reported that none of his six living children believed in his theories, although one of the seven child stood by his side, along with his wife of 68 years marriage. The Rapture, according to Mr. Camping, would lift 200 million people on Earth spiritually, and that they would go to heaven for eternity, while the rest of the world will continue to suffer for the next five months until October 21. To make ends meet between false beliefs and the reality, he has abandoned from the Christian doctrine of eternal suffering in hell and shifted toward the idea of annihilationism, suggesting that the unsaved souls who did not cry out to Jesus for mercy will not get thrown into eternal hell, but simply cease to exist.

“And they will realize that because they were left behind when the rapture occurred, they will never receive any part of their birthright,” Camping concluded in his bible study on Family Radio, To God Be the Glory!. Taking the raptured aside, it’s still a significant number of people to consider losing their birthrights, out of a vast world population of nearly 7 billion by this October.

A week earlier, Camping sat down with New York Magazine to talk about his plans awaiting the days until May 21. When raised the possibility of the Rapture failing to materialize, he replied: “I’m not even thinking about that at all. It. Is. Going. To. Happen. Because I trust the Bible implicitly, the Bible is God’s word — it’s not from a man, it’s not from an organization of some kind where there’s plenty of room for error. It is the word of God. When God speaks that it is going to happen, the Bible is a very factual book, and God gives many examples of how he has made prophesies and it always has happened in exact accord with what God has prophesied.” Having interpreted the Bible for decades in his show Open Forum, he sincerely believes that his numerological understanding of the Bible is true.

Coming in to the station for work on Monday, May 23, 2011, he walked through listeners with the numerological timeline starting from May 21, 1988, when he insisted that people can only be saved outside the churches because Satan has invaded them, while the growing body of Christian denominations in recent history further lures away the righteous churchgoer from the path to salvation.

“Once we have a theory in our grasp, we begin to see everything through its lens,” said Jeff Wise, author of Extreme Fear: The Science of Your Mind in Danger explained on his blog featured on Psychology Today. “And so just by holding a belief we tend to gradually strengthen our conviction it is true, a tendency that psychologists dub ‘confirmation bias’.” This confirmatory bias, according to ScienceDaily, is a realm of thought where “decision-makers have been shown to actively seek out an assign more weight to evidence that confirms their hypothesis, and ignore or underweight evidence that could disconfirm their hypothesis.”

Assuming Camping’s confirmation date is true, and that the judgment that happened was “spiritual”, his bias must have contributed to an overconfidence in his own theories. From a psychologist’s standpoint, all these could be made up by his individual cognitive processes sequentially materialized into his own words and numbers, confirming the calculated “data” from the parables of the Bible through a chronological pattern of End Times thinking, then preaching these thoughts to his listeners based on “facts”. From reading the Bible, he has passed on these false interpretations about God’s teachings to numerous listeners, impacting their lives through the narrow vision of Harold Camping. “You have no more conscious existence. None,” said the prophet to the unsaved soul.

How are his followers coping with their disappointments after May 21? Coming up in Part II.

 

 

 

 

 

Muchaluva,
Stace

Hardknock

POETRY

 

Sink or swim,
lead life
with might and main
work hard play
ducks and drakes,
not.

Pinch and scrape
the long and the short.
Keep it
spick and span
for the sweat is
mightier than Stonyheart.

His bread and butter
rough and tumble -
by leaps and bounds
at sixes and sevens -
knocking over
the lap of luxury

Thick and thin
wise
make Free through Will
Live
fortunately,
fellow warmblood.

 

 

 

Muchaluva,
Stace

Talk therapy I

…because knowing the end is the surefire way to move forward right.

I AM talking. As a matter fact, I am also listening.

To my mother.

After my first decent lunch for months now, sitting at a table, eating with my family and therefore not alone, I am starting to remember myself.

I’m finally back, warm at home, sunny Indonesian climate right at the Equator. No sad faces around me; and I hope not to make a face that would make the faces around me sad.

Last time my mother came into my room, I didn’t respond. Because it’s no use. 

Today there’s actually a little bit of use. Plenty of lessons to absorb, then digest throughout the rest of the years in my life until death.

I let it all out. All out. The sound of my voice; the voice behind these written words; the pain I felt locking myself into a corner feeling the pain capacitated with the weight of the world and plenty of worries that I have on global issues affecting the future of humanity; mankind as we know it, and the end of it. The extinction of warmth.

The nonexistence of warmth. A father’s warmth. I never have that. Society has been telling me that my role in this life is to act as a daddy’s little princess, a little girl dressed in pretty clothes and begs daddy for dolls and toys and clothes and shoes and bags. As a little girl I lock myself in room for hours reading books upon books and travelled across time and space beyond dolls and toys and clothes and shoes and bags.

Daddy is not a very expressive human being. He is a middle child out of 14. As the 7th child he is neither responsible nor childlike. He is a working man who makes a living out of a successful business. He has a wife, two sons, and a daughter. A princess of his own, a princess he says to himself is his own, but never express that love to his princess. For 21 years.

He’s not here.

My mother was rambling about the healthy milkshakes on the kitchen counter that I can use as meal replacements. We began talking about health. Exercising a couple of times a week, how it’s a major investment to mental health and acts as an effective antidepressant. We began talking about my course of depression throughout the year. How did I came up with the idea of death and committing suicide? 

I’m not the only one who has thought about it. Plenty of reasons, as it turns out, that someone lost all hopes in life, where there’s no more creative juice to make evermore reasons to go on living. All the spark from a happy life comes through invisible matters. Important matters, like love, social support, and senses of touch, taste, and most importantly, vision.

Money is not happiness.

As disorganized as my thoughts are, and as much as I worry about the unfortunate people without the blessings they all deserve to reach a global equality on humanity and the experiences of being human itself, I expressed everything out as clear, concise statements.

“I think that finding pleasure for myself is a very selfish thing.”

“I know there are a lot of people out there who needed more help than I do.”

“I earn a sum of money that can buy me dolls and toys and clothes and shoes and bags. I can give that sum of money to those who actually need them for medication or education.”

“I lost my hopes and dreams. I threw away my ambition.”

“I considered killing myself. I considered dropping out of college.”

“I don’t know why, but I don’t feel comfortable sharing my feminine side on dates, showing my vulnerability, and my deepest worries. I worry a lot about the world.”

“I have a heart that I want to give, but don’t know who to give anymore.”

I saw tears in my mother’s eyes. She still acted so nonchalantly. 

“I need a father’s warmth. I need daddy. Daddy…”

After over 20 years of marriage without warmth, sensitivity, and understanding of how much more important his presence is than just the mere provision of financial income into the family, my mother sat still, looking at me, staring at me, her dearest daughter talking and shedding tears in short bursts that came out of nowhere.

“I don’t know what my problem is. Can you please tell me?” I said. Now that there’s a trusted someone to tell my deepest worries, like a mirror, that someone, my alma mater, tells me this:

“At the most specific level, these are your problems: 1. You are afraid that you will become a useless person. 2. You have a big heart that you have a deep desire to give.”

This entry must end here. She cleared my thoughts and I need to clear mine too. To be continued…

SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries

No air

She hates going downtown. There’s no room to breathe in the fresh, limitless air, at least for the normal, fully functioning human being.

 

Continue reading →

If there’s one thing about life satisfaction…

…because knowing the end is the surefire way to move forward right.

I AM consulting Martin Seligman for some authentic happiness. At least, in my head.

What would you do when you finally know that you’ve spend some wasteful years of your life across the other end of the globe just to realize that the only thing that matters to you is right closer to home? 

What happens when you have family members, all older than you, that seem stable on the outside but completely in pieces in the inside? And it’s not just that – secretly, they all won’t admit that the only track to their own happiness is your happiness, and that without you, they’re left with nothing but hopeless dreams, with no more reasons to live. What happens when they know that I am no longer happy? What will happen if they find out that the reason I’m unhappy is because they are not happy?

WHAT IS happiness? That’s when Reed comes into the picture.

Every night when I space out in my balcony, writing down my thoughts, channeling them into my commitment to death, there’s a smokin’ hot dude right next to my house. Out there. Smoking. Unfortunately.

“Hey,” he glanced at me.

I look up from my scribbles and give a little nod. He straightened up. I think he noticed my awkward smile.

THANK GOODNESS my family does not smoke. Do you know the nasty things it does to your lungs?

SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries

Learn to make yourself useful.

ARTICLE

May 2011

 

 

By this October, the human race will reach a peak world population of 7 billion. The United Nations predicted our globe to withstand over 10 billion people by 2085, mostly in developing countries.

 

Chart by The Economist

 

 
Even though birth rate is stabilizing since the baby boom in the U.S., cost of living everywhere has dramatically increased since the recent global financial crisis. In 1798, history’s most influential economist Thomas Malthus forecasted an exponential growth in world population before everyone else. He came up with a widely-referred growth model among modern economists when he wrote “An Essay on the Principle of Population” now known as the Iron Law of Population.

This model describes that the population growth rate is faster than the number of supply the human population demands, such as food and energy resources. In this light, we see a rapid increase in human labor in the workforce, thus lowering labor wages and slowly lending the human population itself to widespread poverty. In the end, war, disease, and famine would unfold against the demands of a bigger population, killing itself to reduce the number of global inhabitants.

Rich countries use more resources per capita, stressing the planet more than population growth due to daily overconsumption. This costs tremendous exhaustion to the planet, just as we have seen mass extinction in other species than the human population. With that in mind, we’re now confronted with the global issue of biodiversity that, inevitably, raises a fundamental question of the human race and its survival as a whole: Do we deserve this competitive advantage against other species living on this planet?

 

 

Graph from Center for Biological Diversity from USGS

 

 

 
“Over the past 300 years, human biology has changed,” said Robert Fogel, Nobel Prize-winning economic historian at the University of Chicago. As we speak, scientists are also working to increase the human lifespan. Modern technology has helped raise the average life expectancy at a rate of 157% since 1700.

In his recently published book, “The Changing Body: Health, Nutrition, and Human Development in the Western World Since 1700″, Fogel witnessed a shift in the human physiology through steep-climbing global income and industrious economic growth and rapidly-advancing medication and sanitation in wealthy countries, thus better health of mankind. He coined this movement as technophysio evolution. The well-equipped pregnant women and the youth population are now treated with preventive care from diseases, malnutrition, and are growing bigger and living longer. In 1850, the Average Joe stood at 5 feet 7 inches and weighed about 146 pounds, and is expected to live until about age 45. During the 80s, the Average Joe transformed to a middle-aged man that stood at 5 feet 10 inches tall and weighed 174 pounds, thriving until he reached his 75 years of living.

Now the question not only asks whether we as warm-blooded monkeys deserve to live against other animals, killing them then eating them, but also the quality of our lives – Are we still going to under-expend and over-consume food and energy? At some point not so far from now, Homo sapiens have to spend their extended lives rethinking sustainable ways to suffice personal financial expenditure held in balance with humanity’s socioeconomic welfare, important among others as best determinants to predict future population growth is education.

Research shows that the well-educated woman is more likely to have fewer children. The exception is in the United States, where fertility rate is comparatively high among other industrial countries. According to the special report featured on National Geographic magazine early this year, America’s population will reach 400 million, due to teenage pregnancies and the influx of immigrants, which comes as no surprise as our world has become increasingly inter-connected.

UN demographers suggested the rapid rate of global population increase, presently at about 80 million each year, depends on the choices couples make in family planning and practice. “Eating less meat seems more reasonable to me than saying, ‘Have fewer children!'” said demographer Hervé Le Bras during the Population Association of America (PAA) annual meeting last month.

Let’s just hope increased awareness would guide the individual consumer to make wiser decisions in everyday life, starting from the food we eat to the child we bear to live.

Works Cited:

The Human Equation“. The University of Chicago magazine. Vol. 99, Issue 5. May/June 2007. Web.

The World in 2100“. The Economist online: Daily chart. 13 May 2011. Web.

Cohen, Patricia. “Technology Advances; Humans Supersize“. The New York Times: Books. 26 April 2011.

Kunzig, Robert. “Population 7 Billion: How your world will change”. National Geographic. January 2011. Print.

Shah, Anup. “Human Population“. Global Issues: Social, Political, Economic and Environmental Issues That Affect Us All. 13 June 2002. Web.

 

 

 

 

Muchaluva,
Stace

Un-dying

…because knowing the end is the surefire way to move forward right.

I AM seriously thinking about killing myself.

The thought has been going on in my head for months. Well, a little over a year, now. I will get more into that in future posts.

I seriously thought about planning a scheme on how I would kill myself. I ended up with pills. And the next day, I will be gone. And somebody would find my body lying on the bed and transfer it to my deathbed.

WHY? Because it’s one of the safest ways to deal with life. In fact, it’s the only comfortable way to make a good deal with life. Without any sense of commitment, lost in the problematic society, you don’t know what you can do right now to change the world in a positive light that it’s supposed to be. 

In my previous post, I’ve done something close to suicide – I’ve made a commitment. Commitment to death. And I write as my main function, just because that’s what I do best.

I also mentioned lots of controversial subjects. Naturally, as a writer, you read a lot. Diverse range of authors with big ideas, vast ways of putting things together going on in your head. You can’t help but write things down to put things clear. Deep down I know that before you authorize an idea, you have to have some substance, before style, of course. On a positive note, the expansion of self-expressive thoughts around the world has fed the ego inside everyone of us to liberate ourselves, or so we thought. Before we form opinions, shouldn’t we justify our perspective by hiding under history books, immersing ourselves into the multiple realities passed down from generations and double-, triple-, quadruple-check the facts and make the ground we stand with our little feet as dense as possible? What comes out of a ego-feeding self without the self putting forth some kind of original, authentic thought by itself?

I am deeply, deeply worried about the human society as a whole. It’s the reason why I wish I can kill myself, but I cannot. I know I cannot, at least, right now. Whenever I read or write or talk about the positive things that still exist out there, I soon realize that maybe, I’m just lying to myself, when I know that there are less and less qualitative, propagative, positive things out there for people to grow, thrive, and flourish as members of the human race. Beings as we know it now favors quantification. Mass. Maybe that’s why overpopulation is an unsolvable problem.

But the positive lies I tell myself are no longer lies. In fact, the act of lying to yourself pushes your limits so that you collect as much mental capacity for yourself to prove and tell the world your truth. Sure, there are many “the truth”s, depending on the degree of truthiness, as Stephen Colbert put it. After all, it’s the job of journalists to find those universal truths.

SOMEBODY’S KNOCKING on my door. My mom came into my room and handed me a cup of green tea. She knows it always make me feel better no matter what.

“Are you alright, dear?” She asked.
“Fine.” 

I really don’t feel like responding. What’s the use?

It’s just that there are so many things out there more important than myself, but the thing is, without taking good care of yourself, you won’t get anywhere. That’s the difficult truth.

Not only do consumerism and ignorance of reality both shaped our modern civilization into something like a self-seeking machine, it also breeds the undeniable existence of pure evil. Dream machines, happiness machines. Whatever machines we’ve shaped ourselves into that is name-calling itself “benefitting the Greater Good” that which is a stable economy, a collective stigma branded beneath the face of welfare. A po-po-poker face.

Until I’ve taken a peep into dystopian world that’s creepily unfolding itself from some shared mythology into a monistic, finite reality, that is, modern classics Brave New World by Aldous Huxley and 1984 by George Orwell, I’ve never the slightest pondered on the possible existence of such a thing, such evilness overpowering humanity, except in the movies.

“PLEASE take care of yourself, don’t stress!” She continued.

Yeah, sure. The fact that the nagging keeps on ringing in my head is a form of stress itself. But hey, I can always change my perception of things. I know she meant well. It’s just her way of showing how she cares, which probably mistook my dad and drove him away and caused their marriage to collapse into its present state. Possible further details in the future, since #marriage is such a hot topic right now. And I’m sticking with just Commitment here (capitalized C, not with a hashtag). 

HAVE YOU EVER MET a couple who doesn’t talk at all and still sleep on the same bed every night? Whenever I creep into their room to pour another cup of tea, there’s this negative aura around and we all pretend it isn’t there. It just doesn’t make sense. Just a third of my life ago, we were all sitting down on the same bed, along with my elder brothers, and we were all playing cards and eating grapes and drinking wine (Yes, I was 7 or 8 and I was allowed to sip a little alcohol, which, thankfully, I didn’t like, except when it comes with chocolate). They all ganged up on me and told me that those seeded grapes I kept on biting in my mouth will eventually grow into trees inside my stomach, and I believed in them. 

I STILL believe in them. I still believe in my family.

I took a sip from the cup. My mother looked at me with tearing eyes, and she left the room without another word. It’s killing me.

And then i realized, if I do die right now, in this time, at this age, the worries I have in me goes down to the trash shoot. Without a good form of opinionation (Hmmm, opinionated nation too?), I can never leave the world not knowing some bit of a truth. Even if it’s just a lie. Unproven. Yet.

So, here I am. Not dead. Yet.

Maybe that’s what the adults kept saying about ‘delaying gratification’. Yeah, right. We’re born ungrateful. So, really, life is what you make of. Or un-make of.

SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries

Conscience, a human trait

…because knowing the end is the surefire way to move forward right.

I AM having a stroke of insight.

 

I had an epiphany when my psychology instructor noted the makeup of the word: con + science.

Basic terminology suggests that literally, the word means “with science”, with the prefix con- as a Latin derivative meaning “together”.

Then it struck me that science and technology is merely the slow-but-sure advancements that finds their own ways of putting themselves as jigsaw puzzles that fit perfectly in-between the blank spots throughout our generation-by-generation lineage in the evolutionary history of the living world. With science, together we can understand how we live and learn from our past mistakes.

KNOWLEDGE leads to wisdom.

AS A DAUGHTER OF EVE, I have already sinned for numerous times how tempted I’ve always been by the Tree of Knowledge. Reading books is like peeping into the minds of the authors – we’re taking a step further into the personal space of another individual mind unlike our own self. But in the end, it’s always the same – How does the knowledge relate to us? Maybe over such a long time that’s how history builds the whole concept of “conventional wisdom”.

Then I ask myself a probing question I can never stop thinking about: What if Eve never eat the forbidden fruit? Are we aware of our human capacity to love, trust, and intuit? Can we do all the great things our great minds can do today through the mysterious powers of our consciousness? Is it possible to dream in our sleep, or sleep in our dreams?

BY LOGIC, if Eve never know anything, or if there wasn’t any serpent lying around tempting the idea of recognizing wisdom to her, she wouldn’t have any clue how she projects her image, her characteristics, her self. There won’t be any self-esteem and mood disorders like in the world we are living in today. There is only a sense of wonder what the forbidden fruit tastes like, and then, within a single turn of the head she would glance at the vast Garden of Eden and its richness of other fruits and trees and the whereabouts of other animals. They’ll all play along and never know anything they never need to know.

The question becomes the existence of morality, and whether we need it or not. Then again, it’s impossible to answer all these questions, because that never happened. However, it’s definitely worth pondering, as I believe that God’s intention in the first place was for us to learn all these virtues that makes us human beings, that separates us from all other primates, from all other animals and plants and bacteria.

STILL, IT’S FUNNY picturing yourself in a world where nobody seems to care whether we have penises sticking out everywhere and boobs bouncing about up and down without an iota sense of awareness.

While your mind is wandering, I suggest tapping into the mind of Steven Pinker, the modern Einstein in psycholinguistics.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjQM8PzCEY0&w=425&h=349]

 

 

SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries