Tuesday, August 14, 2012

The Last Diary Entry of a Dear Friend.

This past weekend was the anniversary of my friend, Harsh Kumar's death. In remembrance, I'd like to repost one of the last entries he wrote in his online journal.





Do drugs, think critically, question  everything, experiment, enjoy  sex, drive too fast, try new things,  do whatever puts a smile on your  face, let passion make decisions  for you, respect and understand your parents, feel confident but not superior, know that money is not an end - but a means… spend it, love whoever whenever whatever without reservation, let feelings and emotions totally wash over you, hate with every fibre of your body - don’t ever fucking justify your anger, break things, tell people how you feel about them, understand your fears and overcome them - own them, jump off things without knowing where when how you’ll land, feel beauty and music, never fucking lie to yourself, lose control.

live your fucking life.

the rationale for the above is here:
parenthetical warning: my ability to write (not well, by any means) is augmented by post-4am insomnia, substance, music, getting terrible head (grr).
so, if you can, swallow this: my manifesto. my treatise. my confession.  if i were you, though, i’d stop reading now.

What if this is all we have?  reincarnation, heaven, hell, nirvana, oneness, whatever.  what if it’s all an idiotic social construct —  primitives explained lightning and earthquakes and floods as the gods being angry.  what if this is all we have?  your behaviour today, tomorrow, now, has no bearing whatsoever on what happens in any greater sense.  the question?  THE question:  you know, what the meaning of life is, or why we’re here is answered thusly:  personal goddam happiness
I’m probably wrong, but what’s my baseline?  how do i measure my delta?  the word of sages, priests, sadhus, kings, scholars should guide me? yeah, what’s their fucking source?  historically, they’ve always and unfuckingbelievably been wrong (men of faith who proclaim anything as fact - you know this..  faith != truth).  and this, boys and girls, is a matter of faith.  think about the word faith, by the way… take a trip to dictionary.com - faith is a (uniquely human) departure from reality and rationality. 
and we, as humans, are becoming more rational [logical, analytical, calculating] every successive generation.  Aww girl. 

Anyway, i’m leaving the pack.  if you’ve gotten this far, i’m impressed.

Here it is, here’s the thing.  I, like most people (depending on how arrogant i’m feeling, i could say “like ALL people”), need three things:  a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose, and happiness.   why can’t i live to satisfy these three basic needs (maslow!) even if it diminishes my chances of happiness in my next life (or whatever).   all i know is this: i’m here today - i could fucking die tomorrow and that’s the end.  this is all i have - why the fuck should i take the word of anyone else when my senses, my intuition, my instincts tell me that this is the end. there’s nothing more.
the curtain comes down when my heart stops beating.

If you’ve gotten this far, i’m less impressed and more surprised.  anyway, the point of the story is this:  pleasure, happiness, contentedness… these are the things we should strive for.  my body and mind are a culmination of a zillion years of evolution, and when they tell me things, i listen.  i’m not advocating deviancy or evil - if you have a brain, you understand — if you don’t understand, well, i have the patience of a ADD addled 8 year old for ya.  go back, stop listen think.
so rather than listening to people about how i should live my life, why can’t i get by on my feelings.  why should i let fucking two thousand year old (or more) books, written by fucktards like us, guide me? nonsense… let love, hate, feeling be your sole compass (aww, you like the play on words there?).  do what makes you happy while it doesn’t hurt other people.  harbour ceaseless faith in things like the capacity and love of your friends and family.  harbour ceaseless enmity towards blind faith, scripture, dogma.  never come back down. 
you and me.  we’re the same, by the way.  we’re better than we’ll ever really know.
but, really, what do i know.   :)

Also, shallowness: i met a girl tonight.   (unrelated to the aforementioned terrible head).   turns out she’s had a crush on me since freshman year.  wtf?  girls, if you like a guy, say something while you’re feeling it.  she still likes me, and i like her back, though, so s’all good.
also, idiocy:  i have no idea how to add people whose name/email i don’t know on friendster (explains my 16 friend count), so if you want to be added (yay!), i’m going to need explicit instructions.  dude, i’m a friendster n00b.  and a giant fucking dork :)
and finally, misbehaviour:  if you’re so inclined, i suggest you plug some comfortable headphones into you ipod (or whatever), do a big fat line, and listen to music with real feeling - depending on you mood, best music for said substance:  (break.smash.destroy) american head charge - loyalty, (lovely something) ani - superhero, (DANCE)  AK1200 - drowning, (melancholy) mirah - don’t die in me, (super sexy swingin’) marilyn manson - doll-dagga-buzz-buzz.  i’ve never done it, but tony the tiger tells me it’s gRReat :D

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"My dreams were all my own, I accounted to them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed- my dearest pleasure when free." -Mary Shelley; 'Frankenstein' or 'The Modern Prometheus'