Save The Carrots.
I witnessed an accident. Sort of. It’s been a couple weeks now, I’ve only actually begun thinking about it just now. Apparently it didn’t have such an impact on me, my friend found it pretty striking I only told her about it 2 days after. It happened right before the bus I was on turned into the street, a woman crashed into a parked car with her scooter. Face full of blood, crying, all that stuff. The bus driver wanted to check if she was okay, so he slowed down. He only meant well, but the effect it had, was a bus full of people slowing down so they all get a real good look. I’m surprised no one took out his camera. Strange thing was, no one intended to help this lady. At first, neither was I, but there were people standing at the next stop, so the bus pulled over there. I remembered my medical training and figured I couldn’t just leave her like that, so I got off the bus. As the only one. Someone had already called "the 100" (belgian 911), and her husband was already notified. So there wasn’t much more for me to do. From talking to her I found out she had badly sprained her ankle, among some other things like a cut eyebrow. I just nodded and said "…Okay. Try and hold it still." What was I to do? Put her leg in splints and carry her to the hospital on a stretcher?
When the ambulance arrived I opened my mouth to explain, but they walked right past me and started talking to the victim. Makes sense. If I get a chance to do the same kind of work, I’ll probably take it. One thing that might stop me though, is my absolute death fobia (what’s that called, anyway?). I can’t take people dying. Could be about my mother, could be because I’m a wimp. I’m not one to step to a shrink so we’ll probably never know.
Looking back I think I did the right thing. Not that I was much of a help, but I was still the only person to get off that bus. If things would have been a lot worse, I don’t think any of the few people around knew CPR. I would almost be proud of myself but my actions didn’t exactly make that much of a difference, did they. Nevertheless, kinda shows I have the right response when shit does hit the fan. Or maybe I’m thinking too much again.
"A philosophic system is an integrated view of existence. As a human being, you have no choice about the fact that you need a philosophy. Your only choice is whether you define your philosophy by a conscious, rational, disciplined process of thought and scrupulously logical deliberation — or let your subconscious accumulate a junk heap of unwarranted conclusions, false generalizations, undefined contradictions, undigested slogans, unidentified wishes, doubts and fears, thrown together by chance, but integrated by your subconscious into a kind of mongrel philosophy and fused into a single, solid weight: self-doubt, like a ball and chain in the place where your mind’s wings should have grown."
— Ayn Rand, Philosophy: Who Needs It
Arrogant, but unquestionable. The simple act of sitting down and thinking about life can change it forever. In boarding school I used to sit down and write whole pages of fluent text about the reason of life and love and stuff like that. Waste of time, some might say. Usually those who have never done so themselves. Kind of like calling the residents of a country you’ve never been to, assholes. Also, a fun fact is that I Have indeed discovered the reason of life. Ask me about it and I will tell you, with great passion and enthousiasm. It’s too long and well, boring to write it down here, but trust me when I say that it couldn’t have been any more perfect. Sad thing about this, however, is how little difference it makes. People ask about the reason of life thinking it will release them from mortal pain and grant access to unlimited happiness, sex and partying. Sorry, no.
I like to think back on it and smile, realising what a gift life is, but it hasn’t helped me one bit in difficult situations. If one could stick to this philosophy and keep it in mind constantly, his life would be utterly perfect. But our brain is dissappointingly weak, unable to comprehend the sheer simplicity of his own existance and the beauty of it. This reminds me of a National Geographic documentary where they release a wolf kept in a cage for 9 years. The animal had been running in circles all that time to make up for his inability to travel his usual 50 kilometers a day. They opened the cage, the wolf ran out, and started running in circles. The whole damn planet to run around and piss on, a whole NG crew PLUS camera crew to chew on, and he just looked at them like they were behind bars as he ran his daily circles. They all left him there like that and went home. I suppose the wolf eventually learned to run in a straight line, or died on the spot waiting for his daily steak.
Sad, one would think, but we are no different at all. Our mind could accomplish such crazy things, it’s almost obscene. If only we could clear it of prejudices, ego, and illusions we flee to. Among other things, of course, just too many to name them all. The virtual cage we run circles in. It would be wrong to blame mankind for this, though. We aren’t made to achieve higher goals, if those even exist. We were made solely to reproduce effectively. If that weren’t the case, we wouldn’t be here. The gift called life is also the curse that condemns us to utterly Waste our short time given. Virtual or not, our mind is caged. Thank any God there may be, we still have sex to fall back on. Well, SOME OF US, anyway. Beh.
Either way, simple, easy (for most), calm Tinking About Stuff will get your priorities straight, and will found your opinions. It will help you to know yourself and your reactions, resulting in a strong, healthy mind and character. People should do more of it, including me. Don’t expect your mind to grow wings, though. It’s like Einstein said:
"Do not vhorry about your problems in mathematics. I can assure you zhat mine are still greater."
I’m learning to play The Offspring’s ‘Dirty Magic’ on guitar. Well.. "Play". It’s only been what, 2 days? So far I’ve only tried, and failed, to learn the intro. Damn I’m becoming one of those stereotype players that only know intro’s. Now that I have extra time on my hands I should be playing more often, too bad I don’t have the patience. It’s frustrating sometimes. I want to pick it up and play something that makes your nads crawl up. But I can’t. I’m stuck at that one song, sucking horribly at it. I should have someone constantly looking over my shoulder and kicking my ass when I’m losing my patience again and decide to do something else. Better yet, slap my ass. Yeah. She also has to be good at oral, too. I need a lot of things, don’t I.
Anyway, guitar. I picked ‘Dirty Magic’ mainly because I liked the lyrics. I can relate to the guy’s "simple way of thinking", if not stupidity. Not exactly the best motivation to play a song on guitar, I know. But I’ve found that songs that don’t catch my attention, can’t motivate me. Music is my way of expressing myself, which is probably why I can’t accept sucking at it. Either way, a guitar standing in a corner is like [enter obscene and sex-related reference here]. It draws you.
So what do I do all day long if I’m not pretending to be on Rock Werchter stage?
My neck was stiff. They put me on my back. Beh. I’m used to sleeping on my stomach. I was about to turn over, when I noticed I wasn’t alone in the room. I needed a few seconds to realise,..
I write. You may run into this story on the net somewhere, I posted it to get some (anonymous) feedback. If you happen to run into it, Do Not Let Me Know. Honestly, do not. No. If you read it and discover what the story is about, you probably don’t even want to talk to me, let alone share the news with me that you read my work.
Also, I write here. I don’t know why I like to, I just do. Blasting my baggage off into space, into anonymity. And if it’s not baggage, I like blasting it off anyhow. I’d love this place to become like those autobiographical thingies showing this deep, dark, misunderstood personality that makes you go "Wow, that really is a deep, dark and misunderstood personality. I mean, Wow." But, we’ll have to do with a random fuckwad’s ramblings about his ex and sex life for now. I’ll let you know when my social life is up for reincarnation, then we can get started.
The internet told me before: if you’re going to behave like a friend, you’ll end up as a friend. Every time. As my friend said: "Maybe I’ll just skip to being an asshole, then." I can only agree. It feels good to be a friend for someone, but it puts you into this box, labelled "FRIEND". And once in there, don’t expect to get out anytime soon. The quickest way out, proving that you don’t want to be "just a friend", is showing just what a prick you are. The down side is, that puts you somewhere else, labelled "PRICK". and then you’re even further away from your goal.
Hell, if "all you need to score a girl" is not being yourself and behaving like an american on additional testosteron, I rather stay in the merde I’m in, thankyouverymuch. Can’t help being who I am, can I. Stick to who you are no matter what you’ve gotten yourself into, and at the end you’ll be able to say, at least you Are somebody. Not some liquid, hypocritical, divorced little man stuck in mid-life crisis for 40 years, with nobody knowing what you’re really good for, including yourself. But! You’ll have tons of superficial friends!
Three people have died in a short amount of time. Only one I spoke off here, the two I did not. Fights at home are reaching a new height. Friends lost jobs, girlfriends, it doesn’t end. But strangely, I feel okay. I’m still in the same mess I used to be, but it doesn’t affect me like it used to. For the time being, anyway. I suppose that’s a good thing. We’ll get there, I think. All that is needed is putting one foot in front of the other, and before you know it, you’re home.