Why You Shouldn't Read This Blog

I am on a journey of self-discovery and ask no one to read this blog. If you happen to find interest in what I write, I'm telling you that I have no insight or foresight to offer you. I am just seeing what it is like to be one human being who didn't choose to be born and who experiences the seasonal changes that a planet tilted on its axis gives the living things on it as it revolves around the solar body that circles around a galaxy.

A redheaded woodpecker climbs the shagbark hickory tree outside the window, finding meals in the form of moths and other hidden insects. Some moths fly away in time to live a little longer. Tufted titmouse birds chase each other in and out of the wooded area surrounding this house. A squirrel crosses the hot asphalt of the street. A wasp bangs against the window screen. All of them may or may not be aware of me looking at them through a pane of glass and metal screen.

While I sit here letting unintended thoughts and word phrases slip out of sight of my main line of thought, pushing aside the mental signposts of recent social interaction, I ask myself questions. I examine myself as one person, as one species, as one living thing and as nothing separate from the universe.

I have no goals to accomplish in the form of human endeavors. I am free from needing to be heard in order to make sure I give or get a part of what other humans are getting or giving. In my thoughts, though, I still have silent discussions about images of humans in action so I am not completely free of being human. In fact, these very words keep me rooted in humanity.

I can remain here indefinitely, finding another set of words to write that don't exactly match any previous set of words I've written, implying that I'm participating in the life of other humans and willingly giving them something to do (actions like maintaining computer servers, designing/building Internet connectivity devices, updating power substations, managing vehicle sales offices, opening computer trade show marketing departments, etc.).

But is that what I really want to do? I am human, after all, so anything I say or do is only in the realm of human existence so there's no other place for me to do or be.

Many people have a caricature image of me as a funny guy with a smile on his face all the time, a person who can find something hilariously ridiculous in any situation. Because of that image, they think I'm fun and enjoy being around me as long as I project their image of me back to them.

I am human, subject to all the ailments, emotions and actions that this flesh-and-blood creature can experience. I am sad at times, I am happy at times, I am horny at times, I am tired at times, I am bored at times...the lists goes on and on. I am also salient and sentient. I can even be sensible. Last of all, I think of myself as a funny person - the world holds no worth to me, having denied me so many joys, that instead of a funny kind of hilarity, I see ridiculousness in the world in the form of disappointments and rejection.

Too many times people have told me that they like being around me because of what I'm capable of saying, not knowing that I'm trying to find something funny to tell them to cover up the immense sadness and stark view of reality that paints my world. As I have said before, life and death are the same thing to me, simply the indication of cycles of atomic interaction. Being human seems unique, and certainly we've built up quite a cultural training program for ourselves and our offspring to exaggerate our existence as a species, but our chemical makeup holds no elemental specialties different from any part of the universe.

Birds chase each other outside my window - I guess they're protecting territory for themselves - the last couple of years of drought in this area have turned once resilient avian populations into rough-looking specimens fighting over a suburbanized forest.

Just like them I need something to eat and drink everyday, depending on the human species to provide my nourishment. Unlike them, I have a long history of cultural training that supposedly aids in my survival techniques, not having just the local ecosystem to sustain me from one season to the next.

I spend my days propping up everyone else's view of the world around them and I'm just plain tired of being their mirrors. I don't want labels on myself and I don't want to see labels on others but I don't know how to get out of the world of superficial labels while also being able to provide nourishment in a self-sustaining way. I only happen to be a blood relation to other humans, I only happen to have shared time in cultural training centers with other humans, and I only happen to have sat in an enclosed structure during 8-hour time periods with other humans because I never had the chance to be other than human so I let myself get labeled in order to simplify my interactions with other humans. I am an upright, bipedal primate, not a label, not a symbol, not words of any kind, but I use labels, symbols and words to engage my fellow primates in non-hostile trade of nourishment-providing goods.

I can't get rid of labels any more than I can convince the human population to shed all cultural training and start over - too many of us have invested our lives in learning and perpetuating successful cultural habits that we have no reason to start over - in fact, we'll fight for the right for one culture's dominance over another.

I am not you. I don't have kids, I don't have an economic debt to others, I don't have a view of the world that makes me want to interact with other humans. I am just me, this collection of atoms that swirl around trying to stay together as long as possible without disrupting other similar atomic collections in the process. That's why you shouldn't read this blog because I'm not here to put patterns in your atomic collection that resemble mine. You have your own life to figure out and I have no reason or desire to be a part of it. Thanks for stopping by. Have a great day!