There is a terror in the heart, an irrational fear of itself. It is the horror of looking in a mirror and discovering that one is not the person you had expected. In fact, oftentimes one is quite subjective in the liberal usage of personal embellishment that the deity one envisions as the true being, the true self that no stranger could possibly fathom is no more than a piñata. Yes, the individual has depth and color, but that does not change the fact that on the inside, there is a great deal of empty space and childish habits.
The trouble of facing this fear is to stare into the mirror long enough to gather one’s bearings, to actually accept that the mind is not in fact the center of all the cosmos and beyond. One must realize that to understand the sheer paradoxical genius that exists within the limitations of a human being, one must do the impossible and come to terms with the fact that as a person, you are probably wrong about everything you believe you know to be a fact.
As you have probably already gathered (due to the consequence of your existing on this planet during your own lifetime), humans are flawed. Yes, you may romanticize us in hopes of dreaming about some beautiful vision of a flawed life being more perfect that perfection; but to even consider that thought is to believe a paradox and not-so-subtly-lie to yourself! To put this into context, if one were to envision a perfect object, it would probably be some sort of cube or other symmetry represented in terms of sharp edges, smooth surfaces, and pastel colors. Disgusting is it not? Of course, that is a mere caricature of perfection. We are conditioned to see symmetry as completeness, and beauty as tranquility, yet these things are what we as individuals often despise.
For example, symmetry. To see symmetry in facial features would essentially remove the possibility of facial expression. Such perfect symmetry would be overthrown by a raised eyebrow. While there is a beauty in the idea, even in the limited exercise thereof, symmetry itself is the antithesis to how human beings live. On average, we are expected to sleep eight hours each night, and in turn lose a third of our lives to unconsciousness. Factor in an eight-hour work day, there is another eight hours for recreation (not factoring weekends and extra work preparation). A third of a life to work, a third of a life to oneself, and a third to oblivion. That would seem symmetrical, if it were not for the fact that waking hours are spent dreading work and anticipating sleep (vice versa for children, replacing work with play). So technically, in embracing this cycle, one exists as part of an engine in a machine that no one really quite understands. However, we agree to this contract of time in exchange for money in order to have money so that we can enjoy time. Again, a paradox.
Of course, “people need money to live!” One might say. People need money for food that literally grows on plants that reproduce on their own and create air, which we do not gather as individuals, but must purchase because people can say that they own massive swathes of decomposed bodies and crap with green stuff growing on it. People claim such dirt because they have money issued by people with guns (which by the way, gives people the power to decide if someone does not deserve life anymore based on personal experience with an individual [no matter how limited that experience was}), who are given money so that they can have more guns to stop other people with guns from taking the dirt and various things attached to said dirt.
So as individuals, we are brought up to accept the rules of this ludicrous game because other people were playing it before we got here; despite the fact that we live on a planet that is capable of producing large quantities of renewable natural resources (as long as we do not fuck it up too badly) without the intervention of gun-people and money.
Which brings me back to my earlier point: Humans are asymmetrical. True balance is not something that we know, and when we say that imperfection is perfect, it is only because we have no idea of what that would actually be like. Humans, each and every one of us is so God-damned broken that when we look at ourselves, and really try to look at who we are, it scares the hell out of us. One of the ancient arguments against the existence of God, is if God is all knowing and all powerful, why does suffering exist? The sad thing is, we do not have the right to ask that. Yes, I am a person of faith, but by the actual reasoning of that question, one admits that there is a being that knows everything. To question such a being’s motive is to actually assume that one knows at least everything that that omniscient, omnipotent divinity knows. And the answer, unfortunately is that that being probably does know. To truly ask that is to act like the mirror is not there, to pretend that one is not the human that one is. And that arrogance, that self-righteous bullshit of the twenty-first century and every year before, is exactly why civilization is as it is.
This leads us back to the terror of the heart. Who is the person in the mirror, and who is the piñata in your mind. Because, while both things exist in a sense, one of them will be revealed for its true form, and the other person you have to live with…every day…forever. Do yourself a favor and take a good look now so that you don’t screw up everything else later on down the road.
In closing, I am not saying follow your heart. That is stupid, people are stupid and emotions muddy things up. What I am trying to say is that it is worth your time to acknowledge that the things you are holding on to might not be worthwhile at all. Sometimes dead weight just needs to go, and sometimes that extra weight is in a self-image that is full of shit. And don’t text and drive.