Secrets and conspiracies.

By this point, I suppose I am tripping slightly. I’m running more or less on empty, and I feel all the better for it. I have always wondered why people always have so much to hide. Be it crimes, falsehood, or even the fact that you had toast for breakfast in the morning. Secrets are fun, I’ll give you that. It’s always fun to hold the upper hand over someone else, even though the information is of no use to anyone. If it appears to hold value to one party, it will hold value to another. After all, information is power. And if you hold the power, you hold everything. Thus, it is easy to see why humans love to hold on to secrets. Why humans will do anything in their power to keep others from knowing about their secrets.

Secrets are one thing, but conspiracies are another. A great failing of people is the assumption that the world is conspiring against them. Just because you dropped your ice cream cone on the ground, the world hates you. That is but a simple conspiracy. What of those conspiracies that make everything seem like a blade, ready to stab you in the back? In the age of the Internet, sincerity and good graces have all but gone to hell in a hand basket. Everyone is a mere mask, ready to step out of the shadows and break your neck with a swift chop to the gullet. We learn to watch our backs, and sooner or later these habits bleed out into the world.

By this point, everything will seem like a trick. Everything will seem like a ploy, a plan for someone to get the better of you. And it probably is. You learn smidges of things and your curiosity forces you in, driving you to know more, to gain knowledge, to earn power. That is, until the power is too great and you are left alone on the beach, shipwrecked and without companionship. And all this happened because you could not contain your desire to have power. To have information. Some people do this willingly, to drive themselves into solitude by digging too deep and awakening something in the darkness. Yet, the thing does not emerge from the darkness. Instead, we are pulled further and further in, to the point where we do not even know who we are any more.

They are fun things, secrets and conspiracies.

Care and change.

I guess I’m on a slight writing binge here. After all, writing is where I find solitude. I find that I feel most comforted when I spill virtual words upon virtual paper. I don’t really care if anyone reads these or not, I guess. To some, it might seem a little clingy and attention-seeking, but then again that’s just probably how I am. Can I change? I doubt it? Will I change? Probably not. Do I want to change? Now that is a question worth asking. Most people say that you can change if you really want to. Most people. Some are content to remain as themselves. Am I one of those people? Possibly.  But who cares? Honestly, what does the word “care” mean any more?

According to an online dictionary, the word “care” means to feel concern or interest, or to attach importance to something. Everyone throws the word around. I don’t care about this, you don’t care about that. It doesn't mean much, really. All it means is that nothing holds much importance to us. Should anything even be important? People say we should care about the feelings of others. We should care about the well being of others. What would happen if people stopped caring? Would we stop being humans? Would we be animals? I doubt it. Animals do care for their own kind, after all. So, not caring would make us sub-human, sub-animal, sub-organism.

I guess our existence depends on the fact that as long as there is one spark of love and care, we might just remain human. But do we want to? Is it even necessary? They say us humans are social creatures that thrive on the attentions of others. But what if that care was not reciprocated? Would we merely run dry? Or would it be replaced by something else? What could replace care in the very core of a human? Arrogance? Depression? Or something worse, such as violence? Self destructive behavior has become a norm recently. What if it became the very essence upon which the human soul sustained itself?

Caring is overrated, I guess. People talk about it as if it was the end all of humanity. They talk as if the day we stopped caring was the day we would regress, turning into beasts. Survival of the fittest and all that. As they say, it’s a jungle out there. One should take care.

Traits.

They say traits are something you’re born with. They say that the moment you emerge into the light of the world, your life is laid out before you. There are no junctions or forks in the road, they say. Only bends and sharp corners. It is, after all, life. There is no human element in life. Your path is already chosen for you. Who you are, what you do, where you go. All set out neatly before your eyes. However, what if, what if you could break away from the path? What happens then? Does one simply go insane, as I would imagine? Does one degenerate into a husk of a person, less than human? Maybe that is how those who are mentally unstable are formed. Maybe.

I believe that I have traveled down this road. I used to know what I wanted, where I wanted to go. Now, I’m not so sure. Life seems to have dealt me an interesting hand. Maybe, if we could look back. Look back at our actions. Maybe it’s just karma. After all, nothing comes without a price. Maybe that’s how traits are formed. Your traits are all just based on your karma. With every action comes an equal and opposite reaction, or so they say. Does this mean that your attitude towards life, your personality, all of it is based on your past life or past actions? That doesn't even begin to make sense.

It is a human fault, I suppose, that we only see the best in ourselves. Very rarely do we look at our own visages in the mirror and think of what there is to be corrected. Very rarely do we stare into our own eyes and attempt to pry away at the layers covering our souls. Very rarely do we ever contemplate our past mistakes. The past is the past, after all. We need to live in the now and look forward to the future. But sometimes, sometimes we can correct the future by fixing the past. I cannot even begin to count the number of mistakes I have made in my life, small yet significant mistakes.

Thinking about these things can drive a person to the brink. I do believe that I am at the edge, afraid to look over lest I fall over, yet afraid to return lest I am shunned for my cowardice. I believe that there is no place for me. Lacking the traits to be a contributing member of society, I am a mere shadow, who spends too much time on the Internet behind the veil of seeming anonymity. Sometimes, I do long to tear away the veil, but the longing never turns to actual action. Maybe cowardice is just a trait I have. After all, they say traits are something you’re born with.