Listening to:

What the fuck is your passion? No I’d rather not go the sappy self-help route, I’m not trying to be make a buck off your misfortunes or fortunes, but if you want to wire money to my checking account that would be awesome. No, im also not referring to your sexual passion (though sex has a lot to do with it in my opinion). I want to know what makes you want to get a bank account and hit up some sluts who tell you how buff you are?

Why do you do what you do? Why do you get a job? Why do you enjoy sex? Why do you feel good after winning a sports event? Why do you smile when you “accomplish” something? Why do you ask questions? Why don’t you ask questions? Why do you shut up that little voice inside that screams for more? Why do you amplify that same voice? Why do you wake up in the morning? Why do you sleep like a baby at night?

“You ask too many questions. We live because that is the only thing we know how to do. We have to continue forward.”

Forward towards what?

“Enlightenment. Riches. Realization.”

Is that really the goal?

“Nah, fuck all that. I just want a house in the hills.”

And yes, don’t we all. We trample over each other, multiply all over a living spaceship, and look for things we consider to be “riches”: a plaque with your name and a fancy emblem that you can hang in your office. A vehicle that is worth more pieces of paper than some other dope’s vehicle. You want trophies, you want a symbol that signifies your elevated status to another hominid. You want to get in the hall of fame, but you never consider that at some point, the memory of Michael Jordan will be just as dead as an unknown junkie living in the dumpster behind Kohl’s.

“How dare you condemn me! What the fuck have you done? You’re just jealous! And besides, we’ll always be around! Technology is always going to improve our lives, oil’s never going to run out, and-oh shit nevermind the game is on in three minutes…”

Seems you can read me just fine. I’d be lying if I stated that my entire life has been a “success”. And I enjoy watching Sunday football just like the next guy. But overlook my personality, the sign of “me” and consider the ideas themselves, for ideas are more alive, more powerful than individual humans will ever be. And I don’t condemn anyone: something is happening, life is changing, and we are constantly evolving and moving towards desires. What is desire? Ideas seeking to be manifested. The so-called will to power. There is nothing “wrong” with this. But as complicated, smart, and cool as you may consider us to be, there really isn’t too much of a difference between you “ballin’ hard to get the pussy and the weed” and male lions battling each other for control of a pride.

That’s all I can think of for the moment. This probably seems like it’s situated deeply in the paradigm of being a male, and I won’t necessarily argue with that. Being a male myself, I have no idea what it’s like to be a woman, but females are just as much a part of this process, this “thing” called life. I’ll continue this rambling next time and muse about that which fascinates me the most about humanity: Memes. I’ll talk a little about my own passion and feelings about the subject… just a little though, you know me.

In other news, I need a job.