Confession

There is something that I feel I need to confess.  Most people is under the impression that I think a lot.  Something that is logical to assume, as I do not talk a lot, and I am intelligent, and there is the reading I do constantly as well.  Unfortunately it is not true, just because I do have a brain does not mean that I use it.

Some people know that I have 'blank spots'.  Moments when I do not register the world around me, moments that I am in a 'pause' state; with just the knowledge afterwards that time is missing.  But now I have to confess to more than that, I have to confess that I am in a 'screensaver' mode most of my life.

Most of the time I am 'away'.  It is as if I am bored, and my thoughts are not with what I am busy doing, but somewhere else, planning something different, or remembering something else.  The only difference is, I am not involved with that, I am left living this part while most of 'me' is off somewhere else.

There is this joke that men is always just thinking of either sex or food.  I know that I can only think of one thing at a time, and most of the time I worry about my purpose in life.  Why am I here, why do I feel this way, why is there nothing stable or constant in my life, why do I keep on doing things I do not like doing, why do I care so much about other people's perceptions, why are there no answers I am happy with, why do I keep on struggling?

There is no room, no time for other thoughts, no insights, nothing to make me special.  Luckily I read a lot, so I can take other people's words and use it to impress the people around me.  I can use my intellect to convince others that I do think.  And most of the time I am content with that.  But confession is good for the soul, and I would like to have one, so I write this down, and feel that it means something, that maybe, it means something not just to me.

Thinking.  Next time you see somebody 'thinking', remember me, and realize that it may just be, as in my case, a single thought rushing around, terrified of the big, empty space.

Faith

Have you ever wondered about the meaning of this word that is the cornerstone of all religions?

Complete trust or confidence in someone or something.  Belief that is not based on proof.  For some reason I am starting to take a very good look at this word, and the meaning it has in my life. 

I am starting to wonder about the many things in my life I have faith in.  Not things I believe in, only the things I have faith in.  Things that I believe in without any proof.  Something that is more difficult than I imagined, because I have to look at the 'proof' I have with a discerning eye.  Is it proof I trust, or is it proof I use on faith from somebody else?  Thinking like this can force one to go catatonic or even worse, giving it up as impossible.  Unfortunately somebody has got to do it, and nobody else will do it for me.

Maybe I doubt my faith because I do not have complete trust.  Trust at specific times, in specific circumstances, yes, but complete trust is not something that I can claim for myself.  Not in anything.  Doubt is part of my daily life, part of my thoughts, and part of my every action.  Everything in my life is infused with doubt, and I am sick and tired of being ruled by doubt.  I need to get rid of most of it, because some doubt is always a good thing, but overriding doubt is just crippling me.

I don’t have much hope of achieving anything at all, but hope is like cockroaches; no matter how hard you try, as soon as you let go for a second one scuttles by as a reminder that you are not infallible.  Hope.  At least I still have hope.  Or do I just have faith in hope?

And now for something completely different.

:)   :)   :)   :)   :)   :)   :)   :)

Not much, but at least it is different.

Scared selfless

I remember myself as a young man.  Full of dreams, full of ideas, ready to make the world a better place.  (For me, at least; if other do not have the ability to enjoy what I provide, it is their loss.)

Many years later I look at my life and cringe.  I fell into the most basic of traps, and now live for others.  My life is not my own, my time is not my own, my thoughts are not my own, my soul is all alone, and wondering where the rest of me went.

I feel like a thief when I want something for myself.  I have to ask other people for the privilege of spending my time the way I want to, and then I am in debt to them, owing them for the 'favour'.  More and more I find that I must share mine, but I am not allowed to receive from others.  I must be happy to give, and this joy must be enough for me.

Scared selfless.  I thought I was better than this, intelligent enough to protect myself somehow.

Unfortunately I am a person that think a lot before doing anything at all.  Usually when only extreme measures are still viable.  How afraid am I really?

God died in 1985

The multiverse did not disappear, so I just went into denial.

I was reminded of this fact every now and then, but it just became easier to deny every time.  Not easier to handle, these reminders, but I just took them as a personal attack, which it mostly is, and built my life around it.

I am talking about my view of God, not about yours.  Yours may still be strutting around, granting you a miracle every now and then, a stern warning when much needed, a helping hand after a bit of inattention from his side, but that is between you.  Not applicable or relevant at all. This is my blog and I'll cry and rant and sob if I want to.

At the moment I am finally realizing that God is dead.  My God that looked over me since birth, that would always be there, even when everybody and everything else failed to do so; died years ago and I have been trying to cope with this fact since then.

It leaves a stale taste in my mouth, realizing that society provided a fake god for me to fill the gap, and I mostly did not notice the difference.  All of my adult life I lived a lie, something I knew deep down to be completely fake, and I am still kind of 'agreeable' with it.

Lots of things to process, lots of time to do it in.  Maybe.  I am not sure if I am ready for the fact that this is a once-off thing.  No heaven, no immortal soul, no afterlife, no judgement, just this life, now.

Emotions are still fighting to find out which one is strongest.  I may become emotional within the next few weeks if there is a winner.  Watch this space for more.  Or not...

Using the Gautrain and public transport/

The gautrain is not built for Africans.  I cringe every time I am seated in an isle seat and new passengers come bumping down the isle.  Some of these big ladies cart around a bag with two or three bowling balls in it as well, and they are not afraid to swing them around.  That will teach me for having shoulders wider than the seat.

Everything on the gautrain, however, is bliss in comparison to the Tswane bus service that I must use to get to the gautrain.  The bus that I always took at 05H10 is no longer running, because there are not enough busses to serve the whole of Tswane.  Most afternoons I stand and wait for a Tswane bus from 16H45 till 18H10, because there are no money to maintain the busses.

I wonder if there is a way to force the people in public office to make use of the public transport.  Make sense, doesn't it?  If they are elected to serve the public, they must be part of that public to know how to serve us.  What better way to meet and be part of the public every day than to stand in queues every day, waiting for busses that never pitch, phoning around for lifts, walking to other routes to just find a way to get to work?  I am sure that the money saved on official transport will help a lot, and other money will suddenly become available to fix this big problem.

Unfortunately I fear it is already much too late.  In trying to uplift the masses, we allowed ourselves to be pulled down, and they are not prepared to let go.  If they cannot soar, then at least they can prevent us from flying.  It is the least they can do...

Working at a corporate institution.

There is a reason why it is called an institution, and most people working at one never think about it.

I am contracting at one of the banks, and after contracting at an international firm for seven years, it feels as if there is this big gap between the section I am working for, and the rest of the bank.  I sometimes wonder if the rest of the bank is based in another reality, with requests that are entered via email being read somewhere and painstakingly copied down on something very durable.  This is then transported by Kevin Costner-like postmen accros the border into this alternate reality, where he wanders from office to office, delivering all these messages.

The answers, when they are ready, are then returned by another postman, scanned and used to generate a return-email.  Because nobody is supposed to know about this, only top management is involved, and this leads to all the problems, because we all know that top management is useless, right?

When I look at the inefficienct way most things are done, at the waste of money, the lack of control, I am sure that most polititians started their careers at one of these institutions.  It will explain a lot.