Just a random thought from a nobody

Michael Anderson2 said:Nothing is really "allowed" or "forbidden"—things just are the way they are.

... but that implies there are causes... which lead to certain consequences...

... essentially, one thing exists... which then gives rise to something else... which will eventually become its own reality...

.. what are you even talking about .. why would you want to wash away all your own blame ..?

redtinker36 said:... but that implies there are causes... which lead to certain consequences...

... essentially, one thing exists... which then gives rise to something else... which will eventually become its own reality...

Obviously, cause and effect still exist—they just are...

If I asked what happened, nothing much; they just screwed me over, honestly. What can I do? I guess I just have to deal with the hand I've been dealt. 😁

Michael Anderson2 said:Look, you can label it however you want—fate, the will of God, deterministic chaos, luck, misfortune, "it is what it is," or just how things go—but at the end of the day, it simply cannot be any other way.

To put it bluntly: it is what it is, so just deal with it...

Yeah, you could frame it that way—explaining reality as "God's will" or saying "God gives us what we need"—but really, you're just putting a label on the fact that things are what they are and they couldn't be anything else. It's inevitable, and there's nothing you can do about it...

Actually, there is a way to fight back if we arm ourselves with actual knowledge. That's how we stop being so dependent on the whims of nature or the unpredictable behavior of the people around us.
Back in the Middle Ages, people were convinced the Black Death was a punishment for their sins—that it was God's direct will, hitting both the wicked and the righteous alike. Fast forward to today, and we know it was actually microorganisms. We found ways to resist them. It isn't "God's will" anymore for millions of people to die from the plague.
Though, I suppose one could argue that the purpose of it all was to force humanity to learn those lessons.

Benjamin Taylor6 said:Actually, there is a way to fight back if we arm ourselves with actual knowledge. That's how we stop being so dependent on the whims of nature or the unpredictable behavior of the people around us.
Back in the Middle Ages, people were convinced the Black Death was a punishment for their sins—that it was God's direct will, hitting both the wicked and the righteous alike. Fast forward to today, and we know it was actually microorganisms. We found ways to resist them. It isn't "God's will" anymore for millions of people to die from the plague.
Though, I suppose one could argue that the purpose of it all was to force humanity to learn those lessons.

And that's just how it has to be. Amen.

steelmarlin77 said:Do you ever feel like you actually made something of yourself in this life? Because, honestly, I haven't. I poured everything I had into it, really gave my all and handed out everything I could spare to the people around me—to everyone I actually cared about—but apparently, I’m just not important enough to even warrant a response to a post like this. Not that they’d even know I wrote it, anyway. If I had to kick the bucket today, I’m pretty sure all those people have someone else more vital, or way more significant, than me to worry about. They’d move on and forget me pretty damn fast, maybe some would take a little longer, but that’s basically the whole story.

Is that supposed to be enough? You know, for enlightenment, or self-discovery, or reaching the absolute peak of human achievement?
It has to be, because there isn't anything else left to grab onto.

you really need to consider this one possibility:
that maybe you aren't actually capable of seeing the true meaning of your own achievements, so you might just be misjudging the whole situation.

because, well, maybe all you ever needed was exactly this experience you're having right now. which leads to the question... why?

don't look at it through the lens of guilt, instead, try looking at it as a game—as roles being played out on a stage. while we're caught up in the middle of living it, we have this singular chance to step back, observe the scene, and actually learn something from it.

and when it comes down to it, within our own specific roles, we're all essentially alone; only we occupy our own space, and nobody else can take that spot.

who was it that said life is either a comedy or a tragedy, depending on how you choose to perceive it? well, maybe try laughing at the absurdity of it all for once, just to see what happens, and then try looking at everything from that lighter perspective.

Paul Jones7 said:you really need to consider this one possibility:
that maybe you aren't actually capable of seeing the true meaning of your own achievements, so you might just be misjudging the whole situation.

because, well, maybe all you ever needed was exactly this experience you're having right now. which leads to the question... why?

don't look at it through the lens of guilt, instead, try looking at it as a game—as roles being played out on a stage. while we're caught up in the middle of living it, we have this singular chance to step back, observe the scene, and actually learn something from it.

and when it comes down to it, within our own specific roles, we're all essentially alone; only we occupy our own space, and nobody else can take that spot.

who was it that said life is either a comedy or a tragedy, depending on how you choose to perceive it? well, maybe try laughing at the absurdity of it all for once, just to see what happens, and then try looking at everything from that lighter perspective.

Nobody can be (exactly) like me, sure... but maybe nobody even needs to be. Here’s a little story about that. Once upon a time, I made some tarot cards that could essentially nullify reality. For instance, something happens, you flip those cards, and the event is canceled. All the causes and consequences stemming from that event are wiped out. Like it never happened. Except, of course, the event still lingers in your mind, because if you tried to erase it from there, you'd end up erasing yourself too. Now, imagine you flip those cards and erase yourself—as if you never existed. What would fundamentally change? Nothing? Something? If you erased Tesla, for example, things would definitely change. Maybe I wouldn't be typing this right now, because there wouldn't be any invented current. Just kidding—someone else would surely have invented it, but maybe everything would have been based on direct current, and alternating current would have been discovered much later and talked about as some kind of miracle of green tech. Who knows. But honestly, if you look at it that way, you could erase him or anyone else, and the world would keep spinning. Even if you erased the whole country, the universe would still be there. And even without this universe, there would probably be other universes. Nothing is so vital that it isn't replaceable or, frankly, unimportant. That's my thesis on this topic, and it seems like nobody has really disputed it; most people just nodded along... And here I was, hoping someone might prove that we are somehow truly essential, that things simply couldn't happen without us. Though, nobody can be (exactly) like us, or as the late Zvonimir Balog put it:

When God
Issued the command
That someone should be
Zvonimir Balog

Everyone stood frozen like stone
No one dared
Accept that duty
Except me.

So, there it is—one playful look at my own "necessity," obviously with a healthy dose of self-deprecating distance. That’s what keeps me going. It’s uncomfortable being responsible. It’s actually quite nice knowing that all those blowhards who think they’re so responsible for our destinies aren't responsible for anything at all, not even themselves. They’re driven by impulses and passions that build up like electrical surges in the brain, and when the charge gets high enough, a reaction occurs, something shifts, and people say, "that was my (free) will." If everything is necessary, then we are necessary too—we're just not important. But we can't exactly remove ourselves from the entire system around us without everything falling apart. That's the point of that "nobody can take my place" idea, because if I don't occupy it, nobody else would be able to occupy theirs either; there wouldn't be Tesla, Einstein, Mozart—no genius, no solar system, no entire universe could exist if I vanished. Uh... But how can I nullify an event and stay alive? You can understand the answer through the lens of many-worlds theory. In "my universe," an event can never be undone, but in other people's universes, it can be canceled, and they continue existing in a universe where that event never occurred, one that only marginally overlaps with mine. By canceling the event, I've "exiled" myself from my universe, and now I exist in my own unique bubble, while other people exist in a universe where that event doesn't exist and perceive me only in that peripheral way. Let's assume most people have a certain number of "intimate" events that concern them and perhaps a few people around them, and because of that, they mostly live in their own private universes, which vanish along with their passing. For other people, that intimacy doesn't exist. Now, you could tell me I write books, like Proust or Genet... but did you ever read all of Proust? And how much of it went unsaid...? Anyway, you get me... There's no way a person's entire intimate world can be recorded in the minds of everyone else, so those events vanish, ceasing to exist when that person dies. I can't preserve myself, save myself onto a floppy disk or a CD; they don't reach their climax, their resolution... Through a work of art, we see only a tiny fragment of a vanished person, which everyone interprets through their own intimacy, in their own way, potentially touching on the human and universal, but only if they have an affinity for art. Montaigne wrote solely to turn himself into a book, to live within those pages so that some friend might flip through them and "breathe" with him again. Eternity within an inanimate object. Woody Allen would say, "I prefer to achieve immortality by—not dying." But I'm not afraid of death; in fact, it kind of excites me because it feels like individual existence is a limitation... If there's reincarnation, you can try something again; if not, you can be one with the universe, having a complete understanding of everything, or even more—individuality for acting within all that. What haunts me is the cessation of everything that was intimately important to me, and the fact that no one will continue down that path or know anything about it. When I was younger, it seemed so important to hide these things, to make myself an unknown, a "faceless author" who leaves behind only the "work"... Now, it seems to me that's completely wrong... Screw the work; the author is what matters. Who gives a damn about the work anyway...?

Maybe I’m just missing some kind of "twin soul" who actually gets all this absolute madness spinning around in my head....

steelmarlin77 said:Nobody can be (exactly) like me, sure... but maybe nobody even needs to be. Here’s a little story about that. Once upon a time, I made some tarot cards that could essentially nullify reality. For instance, something happens, you flip those cards, and the event is canceled. All the causes and consequences stemming from that event are wiped out. Like it never happened. Except, of course, the event still lingers in your mind, because if you tried to erase it from there, you'd end up erasing yourself too. Now, imagine you flip those cards and erase yourself—as if you never existed. What would fundamentally change? Nothing? Something? If you erased Tesla, for example, things would definitely change. Maybe I wouldn't be typing this right now, because there wouldn't be any invented current. Just kidding—someone else would surely have invented it, but maybe everything would have been based on direct current, and alternating current would have been discovered much later and talked about as some kind of miracle of green tech. Who knows. But honestly, if you look at it that way, you could erase him or anyone else, and the world would keep spinning. Even if you erased the whole country, the universe would still be there. And even without this universe, there would probably be other universes. Nothing is so vital that it isn't replaceable or, frankly, unimportant. That's my thesis on this topic, and it seems like nobody has really disputed it; most people just nodded along... And here I was, hoping someone might prove that we are somehow truly essential, that things simply couldn't happen without us. Though, nobody can be (exactly) like us, or as the late Zvonimir Balog put it:

When God
Issued the command
That someone should be
Zvonimir Balog

Everyone stood frozen like stone
No one dared
Accept that duty
Except me.

So, there it is—one playful look at my own "necessity," obviously with a healthy dose of self-deprecating distance. That’s what keeps me going. It’s uncomfortable being responsible. It’s actually quite nice knowing that all those blowhards who think they’re so responsible for our destinies aren't responsible for anything at all, not even themselves. They’re driven by impulses and passions that build up like electrical surges in the brain, and when the charge gets high enough, a reaction occurs, something shifts, and people say, "that was my (free) will." If everything is necessary, then we are necessary too—we're just not important. But we can't exactly remove ourselves from the entire system around us without everything falling apart. That's the point of that "nobody can take my place" idea, because if I don't occupy it, nobody else would be able to occupy theirs either; there wouldn't be Tesla, Einstein, Mozart—no genius, no solar system, no entire universe could exist if I vanished. Uh... But how can I nullify an event and stay alive? You can understand the answer through the lens of many-worlds theory. In "my universe," an event can never be undone, but in other people's universes, it can be canceled, and they continue existing in a universe where that event never occurred, one that only marginally overlaps with mine. By canceling the event, I've "exiled" myself from my universe, and now I exist in my own unique bubble, while other people exist in a universe where that event doesn't exist and perceive me only in that peripheral way. Let's assume most people have a certain number of "intimate" events that concern them and perhaps a few people around them, and because of that, they mostly live in their own private universes, which vanish along with their passing. For other people, that intimacy doesn't exist. Now, you could tell me I write books, like Proust or Genet... but did you ever read all of Proust? And how much of it went unsaid...? Anyway, you get me... There's no way a person's entire intimate world can be recorded in the minds of everyone else, so those events vanish, ceasing to exist when that person dies. I can't preserve myself, save myself onto a floppy disk or a CD; they don't reach their climax, their resolution... Through a work of art, we see only a tiny fragment of a vanished person, which everyone interprets through their own intimacy, in their own way, potentially touching on the human and universal, but only if they have an affinity for art. Montaigne wrote solely to turn himself into a book, to live within those pages so that some friend might flip through them and "breathe" with him again. Eternity within an inanimate object. Woody Allen would say, "I prefer to achieve immortality by—not dying." But I'm not afraid of death; in fact, it kind of excites me because it feels like individual existence is a limitation... If there's reincarnation, you can try something again; if not, you can be one with the universe, having a complete understanding of everything, or even more—individuality for acting within all that. What haunts me is the cessation of everything that was intimately important to me, and the fact that no one will continue down that path or know anything about it. When I was younger, it seemed so important to hide these things, to make myself an unknown, a "faceless author" who leaves behind only the "work"... Now, it seems to me that's completely wrong... Screw the work; the author is what matters. Who gives a damn about the work anyway...?

You overthink things and underdeliver 🙂. You aren't essential enough for the world to stop turning without you, even if your presence provided some sense of purpose or inspiration to someone else.

If you prefer to lie around and take beatings from life, that is your prerogative, though I suppose even Christ had his suffering.

While much of what you say holds weight, I see a certain logic in your current state.
A man who talks without acting achieves nothing. He’s less useful than a houseplant—consuming oxygen and resources without contributing anything. What is the point of existing if you produce nothing? There is no greater waste.

Pick up a shovel and dig a hole; at least that constitutes work, even if you're just digging your own grave 🙂. Perhaps I am being blunt, but it seems you need the wake-up call, so please don't take offense. živijo, brother; I hope things improve for you. 🙂

@steelmarlin77, you're basically talking out of turn without any actual ground to stand on 😁, because let's face it—no one can ever truly erase the existence of anything or anyone... sure, they might try, but they’ll always fail because there's always going to be someone out there to "bring you back," no matter who you were or what you did during your time here... I mean, if you think you have the power to "bring back" your own ancestors, or even those ancient lineages from way back, then why wouldn't those coming after you have that same chance to bring you back? Just by being born, you become this vital link in a massive chain, connecting all these other links together... maybe that feels totally insignificant to you right now, but for someone else, at some point in time, it could be everything.

Lawrence Torres56 said:@steelmarlin77, you're basically talking out of turn without any actual ground to stand on 😁, because let's face it—no one can ever truly erase the existence of anything or anyone... sure, they might try, but they’ll always fail because there's always going to be someone out there to "bring you back," no matter who you were or what you did during your time here... I mean, if you think you have the power to "bring back" your own ancestors, or even those ancient lineages from way back, then why wouldn't those coming after you have that same chance to bring you back? Just by being born, you become this vital link in a massive chain, connecting all these other links together... maybe that feels totally insignificant to you right now, but for someone else, at some point in time, it could be everything.

👍 Precisely that. 👍
živijo 🙂

steelmarlin77 said:Maybe I’m just missing some kind of "twin soul" who actually gets all this absolute madness spinning around in my head....

But honestly, why would you even need one? You’re doing just fine on your own 😁 :klap:

Anyway, what does "essence" even mean, really?

I mean, look at Tanita... honestly, what can you even say about her anymore? It’s like watching a slow-motion train wreck where you just know the conductor is asleep at the wheel, isn't it? You sit there, staring at the screen, wondering if anyone actually has a plan or if we're all just drifting through this mess together, waiting for the inevitable crash. It’s exhausting, really, just trying to make sense of the sheer randomness of it all while everyone else seems to be acting like everything is perfectly normal. Is it just me, or does the whole situation feel increasingly surreal by the day? I can't believe I'm even looking at this right now, but here we go...
Look, steelmarlin77, you’re out here talking big, but honestly? You're just shaving without any actual foundation underneath. 😁Look, nobody—and I mean absolutely nobody—is ever going to be able to erase the fact that anything or anyone ever existed. They can try, sure, they can give it their best shot, but it’s a fool's errand because there will always be someone out there to bring it all back, regardless of what happened or who was involved in the mess before now. It’s like, how do you even wrap your head around the idea that you have the power to honor your own ancestors? You carry them with you, right? And because of that, those coming after you will always have that same chance to bring you back into the fold. Once you're born, you're just this one link in a massive, endless chain, tethering everything together... and maybe right now, in this moment, you feel like a totally insignificant speck in the grand scheme of things, but for someone else, somewhere down the line, you might end up being the most important thing in their entire world.

Someone recently reminded me that I was actually a pretty pivotal link in their chain of events. Honestly, I’d almost completely wiped that moment from my memory—I didn't think it was such a big deal at the time. But turns out, I was basically deciding their entire career path. What I said ended up being the deciding factor for their whole life, because that job dictated whether they stayed here in the States or packed up and left, not to mention a dozen other moving parts. It makes you wonder, doesn't it? How often do we pull these tiny, seemingly insignificant levers that end up steering someone else's entire existence without us even realizing it? We make these little moves, thinking nothing of it, while someone else's future is shifting under their feet because of us. It gets me thinking about legacy, though... how do you think descendants actually carry us back to them? Is it through some kind of genetic echo? Do you really believe genes can hold onto a person's specific history, or is it just a collection of pre-programmed traits passed down through the ages?

What even is friendship these days, really? You spend years building these connections, thinking you’ve found your people, only to realize that most of it is just social glue holding together a bunch of fragile egos and shared interests that dry up the second life gets heavy. It’s funny how we go through all these stages, right? You start out with those easy, surface-level buddies—people you grab a beer with at a local pub in Chicago or talk shop with over coffee—and then you think you're moving deeper, only to find out that true loyalty is rarer than a decent mechanic in this country. Is anyone actually there when the chips are down, or are we all just passing ships in the night, pretending we care about someone else's drama while secretly checking our watches? I look around and see people constantly cycling through acquaintances, chasing that hit of validation, but where's the substance? Where's the grit? We live in such a transactional age that it feels like everyone is constantly weighing the cost of being a decent human being against the effort it takes to actually show up. Maybe I’m just getting old and cynical, watching the world turn into one big networking event, but I can't help but wonder if we've forgotten how to just *be* for someone without expecting a return on the investment. Or maybe that's just the way it is now, and I'm the one stuck staring at a ghost of something that used to feel real. kaže:
What’s it to you, anyway? Honestly, you're doing just fine on your own, so why even bother messing with it? 😁 *Claps hands*

So, I mean, what even is "importance" anyway? Like, seriously, where does that concept actually start and end? Is it something we just collectively decide on because it makes our lives feel less chaotic, or is there some deep, underlying truth to it that we're all just too busy chasing to notice? It’s funny how we spend our whole lives running around, stressing over deadlines and status and stuff that feels life-altering in the moment, only to look back years later and realize most of it was just noise, right? Does anything truly matter once the dust settles, or are we all just making up definitions as we go along to keep from losing our minds?

Is it actually important? You know, that stuff you just can't live without. Back when I was around the US Army, the recruits nearing the end of their service used to say they were "counting the small change," acting like those last few months or even weeks didn't matter one bit. See, the whole military doctrine is built on the idea that you need at least six months of grind to actually turn a raw recruit into a real soldier. Once you pass that threshold, sure, everything feels secondary, but if the President decides to slash service terms down to just three months like she’s planning, then those missing three months become everything, don't they? Because without them, you aren't making soldiers—you're just making targets. But here's the thing, isn't it funny how life works? Three months probably isn't enough time for a guy to get distracted by a girlfriend, but six months might do it, and a full year? Well, that's a whole different story. So, on one hand, the President’s move to bring back mandatory service could mess with marriage rates and birth rates, but on the other hand, if she pushes through this abbreviated three-month stint, the damage might be way worse. Even if she saves a few bucks on food and housing, what good is that when you’ve got untrained kids getting killed on the front lines? And before they even get there, they'll be starting families, which just leads to more single mothers and a massive spike in disability pensions. It’s all connected, really. Her decision carries weight; it touches lives and shapes destinies in ways people don't realize. Though, let's be honest, is it even her call at this point? We all know the directives are coming from somewhere else entirely... *sigh*

Honestly, I couldn't care less anymore; I’m just too exhausted for the whole thing. Nobody needs an old army like that anyway. But then again, I suppose there's some merit in fighting back once in a while, just to put up a little resistance. Back in the day, though, it was the Marxists who really got under my skin. It makes sense, I guess—when you're young, you're naturally going to push back against authority, and if you aren't, there's probably something fundamentally broken with you, and back then, those were exactly the people standing in the way. Looking back from where we are now, it doesn't necessarily mean they were all monsters... maybe they were just worn down by that endless dialectical struggle of opposites, lacking any sort of "middle-class" moral compass to guide them, which left them looking gray and hollowed out, like rats or something. There were times, staring into the harsh light of day, when it felt like some high-ranking Marxist was sucking the life out of his own son like a damn vampire, sinking his fangs in every single night just to drain the vitality right out of him... and I’d find myself wondering if he could even withstand the daylight without simply turning to ash. His breath used to reek, too—this heavy, stale scent that felt like the literal stench of a decaying empire, trailing behind him like a shadow as he drifted through the hallways toward those youth organization meetings. When you step back and look at it, you realize that what actually brought down the Berlin Wall wasn't some massive, seismic shift, but rather these tiny, subtle nuances. Take something like the fact that the American system actually recognized the importance of decent dentistry, making sure the important people could actually afford that kind of luxury. That's what really does it. 😁 Look, I won't drag this out, but the guy basically inherited this twisted, cynical outlook before he was even old enough to know better... And let’s be real, it wasn't like he chose that path; it was just some heavy family obligation he had to carry. I’m just offering my two cents here, because at the end of the day, everyone lives in their own little bubble, tucked away in their own private universe, and there's no way I could have actually peered into the depths of what he was going through back then. As for why he started drinking? Honestly, people drown their sorrows all the time; it's nothing groundbreaking. You see guys in Brooklyn getting wasted, you see young recruits over by the Pentagon hitting the bottle... it’s just life, isn't it? Nothing special about it. Though, I suppose an addiction to the hard stuff can end up steering a person's entire existence in a pretty significant direction.