Åßìáé üëá êáé ôßðïôá
A little bit of greek to start us off tonight. Roughly translated, it means “I am everything and nothing.”
I just finished watching “The Pianist” and as most (good) movies do, it put me in a kind of funny mood. “The Pianist” and “Schindler’s List” both put me in the same funny mood. The holocaust in general does, actually. I want to think that I understand it, even a little bit, but I know that I don’t. My circumstances are so dramatically different that I don’t think I’m even capable of understanding it. Ever.
But it does kinda help me realize something about society and people today. There aren’t enough trials. People don’t suffer, they don’t have to fight to survive. In general, they are completely coddled through life. I’m not in any way suggesting that war and murder are good things, I think I’m just trying to say that people today have no character. Endurance. They don’t even really have a will to succeed. What need have they for a will to succeed, when everything is handed to them? They will succeed regardless of their will.
It makes me angry. This brings two crucial sides of me into conflict. There is the side that wants the human race to suffer. To repent for their sins. To recieve, blow for blow, every injustice they have ever inflicted upon anything and anyone. But then there is the other side, which believes that no human should ever suffer at the hands of another, that inflicting more pain won’t rectify ill deeds of the past. This is the side that views humans as largely ignorant and stupid creatures who really have no clue of the magnitude of their actions. “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.” The other, more violent side believes humans to be perfectly capable of comprehending their actions.
It’s terribly confusing. Most things are, though. Everything I believe, I believe the opposite, too. It’s not as though I’m sitting on the fence, unable to decide what I believe. I often believe both sides of an argument fully. Usually at separate times. My ever-changing ideals, however, make it difficult to form a solid set of beliefs and to stick by them.
It makes me angry.
I know all the anger can’t be healthy, but it’s doing no one any harm. Except me, but seeing as it’s my life, I figure it doesn’t really matter. As long as I never act on the anger, but reign it in tightly, everything will be alright.
Everything will never be alright. One out of every three people with diabetes dies from heart disease or stroke. I’m only mortal. I know I should take better care of myself. I should eat right, exercise, take my insulin on schedule. But if I use the insulin, I get hungry and there isn’t really anything here to eat. My parents can’t afford good food so I can “eat right.” I don’t have the energy to exercise, probably because of my shitty diet. Soon I’ll go blind and won’t be able to feel my feet. And I can’t make myself care. Because I’m just going to die in the end, anyway. Might as well be sooner than later. At least I’ll look good at my funeral, if I die young.
That was depressing. I could pretend I don’t mean it but that would be a lie. I hate liars. Why am I such a bloody good one?