Definition through Pain
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2001-11-03 23:13:17 (UTC)


People often dismiss your misanthropy, cynicism, and
general melancholy to teen angst, which of course, being
antisocial and addicted to books, has left you time to
construct an argument about why depression can be a positive
thing. Angst arises from the belief that life is a vortex
of despair filled with misguided optimism and sterile
happiness (generally obtained through drugs) that constantly
pulls one closer to embrace eternal demise. Humans are bits
of protoplasm annihilating other bits of protoplasm so that
they can pass on their genes so that more quality
protoplasm such as themselves can be made. Though many are
diluted into think that they have choice, more or less one
can be a corporate cog delusional believing that he/she
chose to do this or die on the street. Maybe suicide is an
escape from the suffering of everyday living, but it holds
as little meaning as life, and every idiotic goal you have
worked for is forgotten or destroyed without any
resolution or answer being given.

Humans are quite creative and resourceful beings so when
being confronted with a lack of meaning they create one,
often in the form of religion. Many historians suggest that
religion preceded society and governments that have
attempted to create an atheistic country have rarely
succeeded and often collapse (for example, the USSR).
Religion justifies suffering as for the greater good, gives
meaning through the will of a god or gods, presents a way
of interacting with others, and promises a better life
following death.

So, being a diligent little pariah, you have chosen to
accept the malady of mortality with an obsession with the
macabre and a morbid sense of humor. What is there to do
but laugh at the possibility to have all the answers which
so many of those around you claim to have and that you are
frenetically searching for except to cry? Sadomasochists
have a point since one can trust pain and it is better to
live in the real world than a corporate generated and
synthesized world people keep choking you with.

You mourn the death of your faith in god, humanity, and the
world, as you throw yourself into aesthetics that's subject
deals with death and pain. Music leaves you wobbling on the
edge of the void alone and without hope; artwork is
exquisitely painful; poetry creates barely endurable
emotions that you cannot help but feed; appearance shows
youth with hidden pain and dark intentions. You care not
for what people who have no control over you think and
question societal norms. It's a pity that only in
meaningless could you find freedom.