Angry Penguins

I ate lunch alone on the hill.  I had forgotten my iPod, so I had nothing to listen to.  I was dreading this evening because I've been volunteered to go to somebody's house and set up their new computer, something I have no interest in doing and no reason to be doing, but I was volunteered to go, and I don't have the backbone to find a way to back out.  I don't have confidence, and I don't have trust.  I'm always trying to please and gain approval, and when I don't get it, I fear that they hate me.  That's life for a wimp.

Is anybody still reading this?  Why?

I've burned myself out on MMOs, even the excellent Warhammer Online.  I feel like I get hooked on the escapism, and then time passes before it all comes crashing down as I realize I've wasted valuable time playing a game you can never win.  Games really are quite pointless.  Mega Man 9 came out recently and reminded me of the old NES games I used to rent as a kid, where you could jump in and play a quick session.  I got an NES at the end of its lifespan when the SNES was either out already or about to come out.  I've always been behind--when other kids were playing with their Ninja Turtle figures, I was making my own out of pipe-cleaners because I didn't even have one.

I've been going through my backup data, organizing and cleaning things out.  It keeps me busy for an evening.  I had crippling anxiety last week, trembling and hyperventilating.  My life has veered downward in a tailspin now, and there's a feeling of inevitability in this.  It feels like the natural conclusion.  Though I once had huge amibitions and fantasies about changing the world, I'm also not surprised to see my life end up this way.  It's like it was the possibility I hid from myself and refused to acknowledge.  Now, it's here.  I'm nothing, I'm insignificant, I'm pointless, I'm taking up space, I'm a failure, I don't matter---and life itself doesn't matter.  We're a bunch of cold, dry physical matter.  There's not even a soul or a god.

Tonight, I'll watch some more MST3K/RiffTrax clips and organize my years of data.  Maybe I'll have time to get some more reading in of Fast Food Nation.  Or perhaps I'll go for a walk, if I'm not too tired.  I woke up repeatedly throughout the night.

I woke up feeling strange yesterday morning, maybe due to the dreams I had.  As I got out of the car to walk into the office, it was like the world felt artificial and there was no god--just me, alone.  I felt lonely not in the usual sense but in an acute physical sense, like I wasn't there.

I'm just out of anything to write at the moment.  There's not much going on.  I have a birthday coming up.  I wonder if my family is going to forget it like they did last year.  Few things make you feel more pathetic than that.  On the upside, it may be a three-day weekend, so that's three days of wishing I was an alcoholic because my family is oblivious and my friends don't return contact.

I've long described myself as agnostic.  I don't know if that was always accurate, as I still believed in some kind of god.  I was raised as a Baha'i, a religion that, essentially, believes all the major religions are fundamentally correct.  I'm not sure I believe that these days, though I still hold respect for the religion.  I personally do not follow any major religion.

I don't think I can not believe in some source of creation.  I don't know if it's due to my need to believe I hae apurpose or if it's a logical conclusion based on the fact that everything's here, and thus there must be something that made it be here (science describes how it was made with increasing success, but "why" is still up in the air).

Thus, I think I reject total atheism.  Now, there are a number of variations of atheism, so I'm referring to the concrete belief that there is no god or source of creation.  There is also weak atheism, strong atheism, agnostic atheism...rather than track all that, I'm just going to say that I think I believe there's something more to all this.

I have no scientific basis for that at all other than, "Look around, stuff is here."  Maybe we're a bubble universe split off from a parent universe during Gnuth's inflation in the midst of the Big Bang, but hey, why the heck did that happen anyway?  It's difficult for me to accept that there's this observable universe just out here existing.  Is that a mistaken assumption I'm making?

I used to think God was listening.  Logically, there's no reason for me to believe that.  I don't know anymore.

Though we might have precious little
It's still precious

I like that song about this wonderful world
It's got a sunny point of view
And sometimes I feel it's true
At least for a few of us

I like that world, it makes a wonderful song
But there's a darker point of view
But sadly just as true
For so many among us

Though we have precious little
It's still precious

In the sweetest child there's a vicious streak
In the strongest man there's a child so weak
In the whole wide world there's no magic place
So you might as well rise, put on your bravest face
Put on your bravest face

I like that show where they solve all the murders
A heroic point of view
It's got justice and vengeance too
At least so the story goes

I like that story, makes a satisfying case
But there's a messy point of view
That's sadly just as true
For so many among us
For so many among us

In the softest voice there's an acid tongue
In the oldest eyes there's a soul so young
In the shakiest will there's a core of steel
On the smoothest ride there's a squeaky wheel

In the sweetest child there's a vicious streak
In the strongest man there's a child so weak
In the whole wide world there's no magic place
So you might as well rise put on your bravest face
Put on your bravest face

Does a praying mantis have a soul?  I would think every living thing has one, but I don't know what constitutes life or what exactly a soul is.  A mystical bundle of energy attached to your cells?  I'm struggling with the idea these days.

If somebody is born with a mental defect such as retardation, is their soul also retarded, or do they become "normal" after death?  Is a praying mantis' soul only as intelligent as a praying mantis, and if so, wouldn't it be cruel that it would eternally be just a praying mantis?

If a robot is built that is as intelligent as us, displaying simulated emotions and sensing injury to its body, how is that different from the real thing?  We're cells bound together, controlled by neurons arranged in structures.  What makes me not a robot considering I'm constructed by pre-wired physical components just like a robot is?

Is consciousness an illusion?  Is this simply what it's like to be self-aware, perceiving myself as existing behind a camera lens of eyesight that sees the world, as if I'm something more than my physical body?

I believe every house has a builder and that the physical world we're in doesn't exist for no reason.  What is that reason, and how is it here?  Am I just an inevitability of a universe of math-based physical laws inevitably leading to evolved constructs we call life, and is persistence after death a comfortable idea we formed to deal with mortality?  If someone sees through that veil, is it wrong for them to wish to end it and avoid the pointlessness?

Why does God never answer prayers?  Why is there no proof of ghosts?  What is the point of life besides food, sleep, and sex?

I'm able to find ways to pass the evening, but I wish I could find away to stop waking up with dread.  The morning used to be the time when I was in the best mood, so it's really strange to now have it be the worst time.  Each morning's arrival reminds me that time has passed by.  As I sit at work and look out the window in the conference room, studying the same old street lights overlaid on the distant hill, I get a sensation that I'm going to die here.  People in my life have left or are leaving, and the choices I made have placed me here indefinitely.  Someone is always needing something from me.  I'm tired, drained, and bored.

Every goal I ever had failed, and now I feel aimless and disillusioned.  I wish I could start over.  Wake up one morning and find myself in the old house with a chance to do things differently, or at least prepare myself for what was to come.  Back when things somewhat made sense, back when I didn't spend every day thinking about how I didn't want to experience life anymore and how I just wanted to sleep all day.  Back when I didn't feel weak and fragile and doubtful; instead I was invincible and optimistic and convinced of success.

I move from project to project with no results.  Creative frustration is so disheartening.

I have several external hard drives stuffed with barely organized files dating back to 1995 from the first PC I owned.  I've been going through them today and finding so much old data I forgot I had.  I have a habit of saving everything.  I found artwork, recorded guitar ideas, and more.  I even found an email from my first girlfriend telling me she was sorry things ended harshly and that she wanted to still be friends. Women were doing that to me even back then!