i was reading an article today about american students holed up in a basement of the american university in beruit, lebanon where war seems the only way to describe the violence that has struck like lightning setting on fire the old, sore wounds.
the american students said she was very scared. anyway, recently no thanks to my political science class i have been thinking about why people care about things? why do we care about others, environment and the animals? or why do we care for democracy to spread or why do we care to vote? life is short and already complex. why keep increasing the state of complexity.
maybe becasue inevitably, this things do affect our life in one way or another. it has its own indirect hold on our life and maybe because we have a conscience? are the motives pure or selfish? i have a feeling even the most political correct answer is a result of some linking tentecles or pure abject fear of retribution? deep down the human anatomy is really selfish! i am not the all-seeing or all-knowing scientist of man's reasoning, but in trying reasons i don't seem to come to one where there is purely no motive.
for myself, i am more confused. why do we choose to live. or is it our choice? why do we struggle to live? do the human constitution require us to be challenge to enjoy something. without competition is life not worth it? without the humdums of society, can we not find ourselves? maybe we are really characterize by the outside rather than the inside, the outside retrives a reaction from inside, from the deep recesses of the soul. just like a magnet: to create a south pole, you have to use a north pole, but not necessarily maybe that opposite poles are installed in our condition.
people all trying to built camps. what identifies us? and they think they know you. they think they know it all, pretending to be the wise and scheming. when it is all selfish and nobody really means a thing. it is all a showcase. sometimes when i look at myself, i see someone i cannot even explain. and all this catergories "about me:" in this friendster and face book thing. do you expect to incoporate a life time into words or personality or character into a section. the answers to ourselves... do we really know ourselves? and does anyone really know us? acceptance in society may not be us. we seem to approach life more as a role that we are built up to play, either that or nothing. maybe that is why life is so excrutiating, it drives out the breath in me because it is a job i have to live with almost day and night. a encompassing relationship.
there are days i dream about escaping it all. of building an ironclad invisible ship to float myself into a sleep. explain myself?? what is myself on a scale, do i compare myself with word created. but i do experiance the uttmost emotions, the dragging of intense description within the soul. somethimg that tells me that i am alive. not just to cry or laugh but also to hold on and let go, to bound missing words into a everlasting dreams. that is me, hardly a character...
evaporating feelings make room for others. maybe life is an emotion, ever changing.. people change? two negatives make positive so if everbody changes and it is a odd number, we end witha change but if it is even, no change. and really how do you know i change? what was before and after?? and i am even more confused.
i don't think leaving answers out is right but do we really know the answers to everything. what are we to do. where is the break and where is the limit and where do we even start. the more it seems a never ending process of entaglement. the haze does not seem to clear out after the rain.
all i can i conclude is that being lost is not a desire neither real answers bring peace. even solomon had ever possible gift, was there an answer in those answers. i wish i could go to sleep, on a pillow clad in comforting hands. telling me that i won't have to wake up to another day of entanglement. to conflicts afar, in beurit and near, all around me... and the ceaseless man talking, dgging, plucking talk... oh God!!!
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