Judgement. A term that has become associated with society’s perception of man. Oftentimes we claim to not judge– a falsehood of the tongue, as it is an innate trait of man to perceive. It’s just that this judgement is internalized, forbidden from manifesting itself externally. While we all may be guilty, I am more guilty than others– as I have made it a staple of myself to classify others, inadvertently judging them in this process.
I keep this judgement internalized– for my conveyance of this judgement is as truthful as it is blunt. Additionally, I operate under the presumption that my judgement is incomplete. After all, my knowledge of this subject pales in comparison to the actual subject.
After all, if I were to be judged by the sole virtue of my writing– it would be an incomplete one that would distort my image. The same would be true if I were to be judged by the way I conduct myself in everyday life– even if both were to be used to judge me, it would still fall short.
In my viewpoint, there are only two people that could judge my entirety– the first being God and the second being myself. After all, they’re the two constants of my life– I cannot leave myself and God will not leave me. If I were to walk away from the Sun– is the Sun leaving me or am I distancing myself? So how could it be said that my Lord would abandon me?
This does not mean that the judgement of others does not matter. Although I may view it as incomplete, that does not subtract from its truthfulness– hubris is a sin that I will not partake in. It’s just that I believe that the judgement of others is only true up to a certain point. I too cannot truly claim to know myself– I’m still learning both physical and mental traits of myself even now.
As you can observe with my writing, I tend to balance it using two opposite streams of thoughts– a philosophy articulated in “Death’s Gravity”. I have spent a good amount of my time studying my emotions– to better understand myself and articulate these feelings.
Amongst these emotions is anger– an emotion that remains rooted in my writing. Oftentimes, I soften this anger or use a counteracting emotion in my writing. It’s an interesting emotion– I’ve tried to rationalize with Cause&Effect, yet some aspects of it still remain irrational.
However, anger is an emotion of rationale– if a modicum of intelligence exists, then this emotion can be exhibited. It does not matter whether this intelligence is rudimentary or stunted– it’ll burn the same.
Ignorance seems to have an outsized effect on this anger– after all, we’re all ignorant in a certain sense. To deny this, omnipotence is a required virtue– a virtue that man can not deign to touch, let alone possess.
After all, the thoughts of another are seldom privy to our minds– we can spend lifetimes studying ourselves, but we are variables– ever-changing ones. Doubt is the only constant that will remain in these studies.
Even if we were to ignore the topic of humans– humanity is far off from completing a single field of knowledge. A fragmented field of knowledge– as this knowledge is split across the myriad nations.
But, when I write about ignorance and its relationship to anger– I refer to the topic of humans. Since we as individuals lack the ability to understand each other, our ignorance will breed anger as a response to this.
Worldly knowledge is a virtue– a virtue that some fail to obtain, one that some shun it in preference for irrationality. The ignorant will flout their perceived intelligence as they reject academia– the studious will shun the ignorant at every opportunity, dismayed at the lack of foresight amongst their uneducated brethren. This is another pattern that I’ve noticed– a pattern that leads to mutual hostility, another breeding ground to anger.
I will not write any more of this general sense of anger– as I lack both knowledge and virtue. After all, I primarily write for myself. You see, I try to balance my anger as I have no intention of becoming a pariah of society– as excess anger is rightfully viewed with caution and suspicion.
If I were to name my counterbalancing emotions– then it would primarily consist of love, a general one as it serves as an anchor. It is supplemented by the trivial joys that fluctuate in my life. Of course, I have no intention of showing this emotion in excess– while a false halo remains a halo, I refuse to wear something that adds falsehood into my being.
I believe that I have approached this balancing issue with an incorrect approach– as these two emotions are far too intertwined to be used to balance one another. Love is an emotion that sustains anger– raising or lowering the temperature of eternal flare, dependent on the object of its affection. These two emotions are not mutually exclusive, even polar opposites like hatred and love can coexist in some capacity– after all, we are selective with our emotions themselves.
Our emotions are far too complex to divide them into bland categories such as good and bad– morality is a subjective field, a field that has obtained the quality of objectivity due to mutual agreement. My thoughts on emotions are interconnected to my thoughts on power.
Power. A quality often tied to human dynamics and by extension hierarchy. Power is not innately corruptive– contrary to the beliefs of some. Power is a quality that amplifies a person’s true nature– a quality of revelation.
Human society is structured in a way that disallows some people from showcasing their core tendencies– forcing them to renounce them to survive in this world. This is a concept that affects both upstanding members of society and the degenerate folk that reside at our sides.
When a person gains power, they are able to express themselves more freely in society– allowing them to reclaim these lost traits of themselves. It is corruptive in the sense that a person’s actions has an outlasting effect on society as a collective.
We have a tendency to remember negative experiences and forget the good times we had. That is why the notion of power being a corruptive force has spread. A person’s ambitions are shaped by the position they wield in society– thus a position of power would allow them to develop their agenda to correspond with their new height.
Power is a quality that allows for a good man to become a great man– for a bad person to become a horrible person. Its morality is determined by the person who wields it– power itself lacks will, thus being ineligible for its nature to be determined.
Emotions too are figments that are ultimately decided on our will– having no innate morality. Yet these emotions are too closely tied with our ego, retaining the capacity to cloud our judgement– incapable of self-regulation. Our emotions alone cannot serve as a self-regulating force, thus it must be regulated by the same intellect that it influences– lest that too gets consumed by this wildfire.
Originally, I thought myself to be a petty person, yet I believe that my definition of it was wrong from the very beginning. The trait of pettiness is oftentimes attributed to those who nurse grudges over a long period of time– grudges that evolved from minor disputes.
This implies that those who are petty have a strong memory of these perceived wrongdoings– not of the positive encounters they had in the same period of time. While I may be guilty of the former, small moments of kindness are rarely forgotten.
My actions may be petty but that alone does not qualify my person to be considered as such– as it’s become a way to derive a sense of fun that evaporates from my memory. Other than that, I’m less inclined to pursue minor grudges– my definition of it being one that may differ from the established standard.
I have a tendency to assume the worst from an individual– a consistent bias that seems to be validated by broken expectations and perceived slights. While I would feel relief if this tendency were to be true– I recognize that it’s a notion that should be abandoned.
However, it seems to be ingrained in my being, so to mitigate this– I choose to express these negative emotions in the least expressive way possible. If I can emotionally sabotage myself on a daily basis, surely I can weaponize it for something good.
Oftentimes, I choose to stay in limbo– to be paralyzed by choice. This tendency appeals to my logic and reason, but it remains deficient– as it’s idealism that uses confirmation bias as an engine, not accounting for errors and human ignorance. I have no qualms about this tendency being wrong– the main reason why joy courses through my veins when people surprise me.
I recognize that I cannot look at others as God intended for them to be seen– my bias serving as a blindfold. However, I shall eventually pierce that blindfold one day– to truly understand what God instilled them with.
While the ink of my writing may paint me in a more virtuous light– I would like to dispel that notion. I may be better than others, but that alone will not satisfy me. I am human, to err is a fundamental part of human nature. So while my writing elevates my moral standing– my mistakes have yet to be inscribed. I will not extoll my virtues, as I find myself lacking– nor will I proclaim myself as righteous. I may love the righteous– but I am not one of them.
I am simply a man– not a virtuous one nor a corrupt one. My path is one of repentance– to make amends for my past, to fix my current state of affairs, and to ensure that my future’s regrets are remedied.
There are other emotions in my writing. A quiet sense of melancholy resides in all of my pieces– some more than others. I would drink, but it seems that my own thoughts have turned me drunk. I have dedicated my sense of loss towards the past and its sacrifices in “Lament”. My anger of this loss resides in “Churchill”.
To study myself and to articulate my findings– my mind is meshed with sobriety. I claimed the trait of self-awareness– it seems that I’ve been remiss, my awareness is only relative. I have much to learn about myself– there is no shame in admitting this fault. A part of me beckons for the shadows of ignorance to take ahold– as there is nothing to numb this truth. Once again, my belief that ignorance is a blessing has been affirmed.
While knowledge too may be a blessing– its secondary notion is a burden, as some people cannot handle the dissemination of this knowledge. While we have the resolve to begin this path, do we have the courage to reach the end?
I feel like smoking– but I do not smoke. This notion arises from the way I let my breath serve as emotional regulation– to release these laborious emotions.I breathe out, I think of it as a way to release my sentiments– to expel it from myself. That and my preference for breathing like a V6 engine. While this may not work for others, the fact that it works for myself is enough. I am aware of this habit and I do occasionally keep in check after gauging a person’s unconscious reaction.
They may forget, but my memory will endure. After all, I am to be responsible for myself– for my thoughts and actions, be it intentional or unintentional– conscious or unconscious. Unrelated to myself, I’ve noticed that a person’s words may be harsher than the intent behind such words. While their remark may be casual– the object of this remark may think otherwise. It’s intriguing to observe this mismatch, one that will hopefully serve as writing material as I incorporate these observations.
When I first began to write in an academic context, I sought to package my reasoning with my actual words– allowing others to read my vision as opposed to it being spoken by a faulty speaker. It seems that I have committed another mistake– if others are blind to my words, how will my reasoning speak to them?
This reasoning has been misconstrued as passion– a notion that has been fundamentally misunderstood. How can passion be deduced from an intent to be understood– the same underlying intent that influences humanity’s behaviour.
To term this attempt of understanding as passion is a misnomer– born from a withheld reciprocal of this behaviour. I have left the answer in my writing– but I know that it won’t be found.
People lack a discerning eye– so I have no qualms about publishing my works. I recognize that people have a superficial tendency and that my recognition of this tendency may be incorrect. So while my works may be personal in nature, dissections of my being– it’ll be skimmed at its best.
I do not blame others for this awakening of mine– I am just as ignorant as they are. It is an argument that could be made for both sides– but ultimately it was my prerogative, not theirs. With this acknowledgement, I will remedy future instances– to contain my layer of writing to this place.
In these writings of mine, you will find my truth– my answers to the questions that life has asked me. A torch that weighs heavy on both rationality and sentimentality– one that leaves imprints in the ground that I tread.
My truth is one that is illustrated with an ocean of words– as writing is the only talent I have in this regard. I will not condense this ocean– while I wish to be understood, it is a desire that I have already come to terms with. Whether you drown in this ocean or are baptized by it– a fate that I wield no control over.
In my writing, a sense of depreciation touches my emotions– as I have to lower myself to allow my thoughts to drown my ego. A heightened ego makes one’s analysis of the self a flawed one– and I demand perfection, an flawed demand to begin with– as I know that I will fall short, but that does not stop my futility.
An entirely different perception, a perception that critiques itself– you may see a single fault but I bear witness to three faults. My melancholy turns into nostalgia and self-pity. My anger does not manifest itself, as this issue cannot be solved with it. My humor’s flavour is in turn affected by this perception. My joy remains, as I do appreciate myself and recognize the silliness of some of my efforts.
I reject pity– as my own pity is sufficient for both me and its recipients. My dignity forbids this, as it is an emotion for me to give– not to receive nor take. There are others who are more worthy of this emotional relief than I.
I have used Love to balance my negative emotions in the course of my writing. A love dedicated to a collective– made into dividends to allocate to individuals. Truth be told, I am loath to even write its name– as I am afraid that it would be misconstrued as a dedication to an individual.
That sort of affliction has ceased to exist and I have no desire to reignite this flame– if anything, I am far more tempted to draw a very explicit line to signify this intent– to avoid future misunderstandings. As humanity is the object of my affections, it has manifested itself in my writing pieces– some mired with other emotions like a burning anger.
Joy is an emotion that accompanies this love, almost never acting as a standalone emotion. I have less to write about this emotion– as its presence is a fleeting one. I am more prone to forgetting this emotion– misplacing the memories that formed as its basis.
It is a moth that burns in the flame of oblivion– to be forgotten. Its counterpart remains as an unlying tone in all of my words– born of pessimism. I typically soften my expression of these emotions as I am afraid of the repercussions of wallowing in them for too long. I have enough writing material to write a saga, but I have no intent for these thoughts to be recorded– let alone read.
Disgust is an emotion that is being worn away– as absurdity has begun to establish itself as a normality rather than an exception. Its weight is one that I won’t pen, as I have no intent of being prosecuted for words that no longer hold the same weight.
This piece is only a single shard of my truth– formed by myriad specks of truth-laden words. This truth is an incomplete one– one that will remain incomplete until my death. As this truth is a living truth, thus it shall only complete itself once it has gained a static element– my death being that element.
I am retiring from this piece, as I have less than a day’s wick of time to compensate for my laxness that spanned a week– to fulfill my responsibilities as nominal leader. Congratulations to you– you who have read this piece of mine.
I pose a question for you– have you understood these words or have they eluded your reason? I care not for this answer, as I have no way of knowing it. It is a question asked for yourself– thus the answer to this question is for yourself. Refrain from thinking of it in a binary format, as there are no wrong answers for this question.
Just as I have done in other pieces, I have left hidden details– easter eggs.
Author’s note:
Originally, I planned on scrapping together tidbits of information that I wanted to write about and then compile it into a single piece to publish. But then I started to write about judgement and then started to cook. Those tidbits have now been thrown in another document in the meantime.
Until the Military Guide that I’m supposed to be working on gains 2,000 words, I won’t write any more pieces. I’ve been procrastinating for too long under the guise of a break. Once I finish that, I think I should be able to go back to normal.** 14-Lament 18-Churchwill 27-Life Repeating