Author Topic: Existential unrest by Arik Eindrok  (Read 50 times)

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raul

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Existential unrest by Arik Eindrok
« on: January 04, 2025, 07:14:50 am »
Existential-unrest

No, after what I had lived through I could not have any other perception of life than pure pessimism and absolute decadence.I didn't care if it had been chance or destiny, but nothing would change the events I had lived and which had induced me to such states of sadness,anxiety and madness. I hated life, I detested existence and nothing would change my would change my perception. I would die sad, lonely and crazy; but it was better that than pretending to accept what this horrible reality and the sordid human essence that everywhere sickened and contaminated everything. Yes, it was much better to accept suicide, to give himself up to it without any other consideration, to fade away among your delicate and beautiful sounds and colors... The farce of life, the most improbable illusion, our own... All that and more would die in one
would die in a single act, in a single night of bestial death!

Who knows what will become of us afterwards, who knows if anything even will be; nevertheless, the most important thing, the main task would be the human world and its infinite torments, then to have killed oneself.

Such has always been my soul's, the ecstasy of every poet of chaos and philosopher of true freedom.
Everything that being is, is worthy of being destroyed. All that humanity symbolizes is nothing but a vile and pathetic tragicomedy whose irrelevance is the only thing that stands out. And yet, perhaps it is still worth trying to salvage something in all this filthy barbarism; something to remind us of the beautiful and ephemeral things in life: falling in love with sluts, being drunk at 4 am, smoking our first cigarette, committing our idyllic suicide... Going towards death with pleasure, tearing life apart and knowing its grimmest nightmare before the beautiful passing away.

There is no hope, it is better not to be self-deceived and to accept that the only way to reach enlightenment is not to exist. As long as one exists, hardly any good will come of it. One lie after another, however, will shelter us incessantly; in them we will ramble on without any sense and we will get drunk every day with them in order not to accept the sad and horrible reality.


For mankind, indeed, is that infamous set of idiots who cannot tolerate their own essence; so much so that they have invented all sorts of fripperies with a single purpose: to forget their misery as long as possible. People, places, moments, objects, hobbies, stories, memories... When will the art of self-deception finally be revealed in its most intrinsic nature and make us see how childish all our perceptions are, even those we believe to be more divine or elevated?


What's the point of existing? Someone give me a good reason for it and, perhaps, I will prolong just a little longer my longed-for suicide. Though I doubt it, because for a depressed pathetic like me there can be nothing more to dream or live for. I have seen it all through God's eyes when ecstasy took me further than any other drug addict could go... And I could only conclude one thing: life is a tragic madness that, in certain occasions, knows how to make us hallucinate with an impossible destiny behind every chaotic scenario.

But this is just another daydream of a suicidal madman, of an alienated person who cannot bear the company of his own kind for more than a few minutes. Sometimes I am amused by humanity, although it always ends up depressing me sooner or later. I suppose the irony speaks for itself, that life and death laugh unstoppably behind every longing or trivial spectacle of blood and speculation. Oh yes, the devil also knows how to treat us well in spite of our sins, but time always ends up ruining everything when it comes to too serious matters.


What notion could we, ancestral, stupid and earthly creatures, have of what the eternal or the infinite could be beyond what our caricatured reflections could tell us? It is evident that the being was not granted the capacity for a deeper understanding and that leads me to think that our existence was just an accident, a mistake, a nonsense and something that, of course, should not have been.

It is better to try to laugh than to philosophize, it is better to learn to dance than to dedicate oneself to writing sad and demented verses. I, of course, do not know how to laugh, dance or love... And that is why I am condemned, because I am too conscious of my human and pathetic existence.

There is no other hell, this is the only one: the existential hell of the human world. And it certainly fulfills its function to perfection. So much so that it still has us here, even though deep down we want nothing more than to get drunk, fornicate with whores and then shoot ourselves.

But hell is always the best, even better than the deplorable human labyrinth, even better than my own head and each of its exotic whispers. So does my soul, so controversial, save me or damn me? If I am a sinner, I prefer to be the greatest of all sinners.

Such a night would be perfect for me, something like the kingdom of heaven. Sure, I could also spend it kneeling in a church and praying for the salvation of the world. But I gave that up long ago, for is there anything worth saving here? Better to sink, better to finish destroying oneself in the worst possible way and be oneself with no pretense of anything but exploring life in its most tragic essence.

Anyone can write this or that, get lost a thousand times, pray, fornicate, kill, smile... And, after this, could we say that this and not the one who writes about all this is the one who knows life and perhaps also has an inkling of death? Poets and philosophers would never admit the possibility of the fact itself, nor would saints or ascetics. They are all phonies, idiots, schizophrenics! They all flee from reality in their own way, and they all die in the same way: girded by their own delusion and faithful to their illusory subjectivity.

https://arikeindrok.com/desasosiego-existencial-64/
Translation

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