spasmodic soliloquy

Why is it that every time we cry so hard, it’s always about self-pity, about maudlin thoughts on our lives- over some notion of worthlessness or the lack of something that would make us “complete”? I can barely come up with a decent number to account for the times I’ve cried earnestly for another person. It’s rather pathetic, but during the times you feel sorry about your situation, your life, or whatever, you sense the truth in it. You sense that the world, indeed, has been unfair.

Then, emotions began to change as you obsess in this idea of worthlessness or the lack of something that you assume unattainable. Emotions slowly gear towards how you can make sense out of your life; to be something of worth seems appealing. So you figure that’s where toward which your life is supposed to be geared. Because of this and some notion of capability to feel for others, you take a specific path.

It becomes confusing sooner or later. It seems mere vanity; it’s that nagging alter ego that strives for any notion of worth, any notion of being vital to the operation of the world. Then the confusion gets worse. It’s called Eros in the language of Philo- at least according to my teacher; that the only things you can feel are things that have direct implication to yourself; that selfless love can only be possible with the notion of being affected.

Do you love to feel ownership? Do you invest in caring because the action would make you someone who cares? What takes precedence?

This is not necessarily bad, of course. The self-reinforcing mechanism to secure an organism’s notion of worth can indeed be that organism’s motivation to persist. But it can also be a caveat, especially when the organism’s in its point in life where it wants action- not any kind of arrangement of the world that would suggest any notion of its worth. This becomes a problem because the primary motivation of the organism becomes this notion of arrangement not real action.

Why action? It seems to me the only thing that secures actual desire to live- to live not to arrange one’s life according to any notion of the cosmos’s configuration! It becomes more important to ask ourselves what we want to do more than “what” do we want to become.

The action becomes clear- but only sometimes. And the uncertainty remains.