The noise in my head

I used to think that I was the type to be satisfied with the simple things. These days, it's not so simple to determine what exactly is satisfying anymore. Over time, you learn to eye things with a certain feel of distrust . The elusiveness of a dream, the fleeting quality of happy moments, and the fragile nature of everything good in this lifetime all make us weary and suspicious of trying at all.

I have greatly considered that my problem is not with the way things are but with the way people are (myself included). Afterall, "Things don't change, but people do." Maybe things are still as simple as they can be but people have become too complicated for their own good. And oh how stupidly complicated we can become. So tangled are we in a mess of dreams, jeaousy, hate, envy, hope and the oh so overused "love". For all of us, the romancing of the angels and demons in our heads would be enough to complicate our lifetime and more.

There are times when I watch a movie wherein the main conflict involves the risk of losing one's "humanity", inside I hear myself laugh at our reverence for that word, as if it was actually a good thing. If humanity means anything, it is inconsistency. Our capacity for knowledge is only surpassed by our penchant to choose the exact opposite of what wisdom might dictate; our basic desires always keep our noble aspirations in check. We are not merely creatures of survival but creatures of war; with ourselves, with each other and with everything else. We are on the top and bottom of our own food chain.

Thinking about it, I wonder if there really is such a thing as human progress. Sure on a technological aspect that may be, but the essential question is not what tool the hand holds, but what kind of hand holds the tool. And if that point would hold true, then the fact that the tool changes is of no real consequence as to whether the user of the tool changes.

On the rare occasions I step out of my door to try and experience life once again, I realize it is quite a futile attempt if at first I do not step out of the doors within my own head. We hold ourselves prisoners, with almost arguably no chance of freedom without outside intervention. I have to find some way to get my mind right. I have to try. But I confess that these days I don't even think I want to, or even know if I should. But I do have some faith in a part of me, or rather a memory of me. That somehow, not so long ago, there was a person who believed in a few things worthy of some semblance of strength. He was a better man. I know it. And on this note, it may be wiser to live by the things he believed in than to be... whatever it is I am now.

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"I cannot say whether things will get better if we change; what I can say is they must change if they are to get better." - George Lichtenburg