
We all come here for different reasons. We forget those reasons, by the time we can talk, but that’s all part of the game we supposedly come here to play. Kind of like Disney Land from Hell. It may not make sense, but when we’re on the other side, it must seem like a good idea to return. So we make plans, jump, then spend our lives asking ourselves how we ended up here. People believe different things, of course, but I’m sticking with stupidity, or boredom. You guys can believe whatever you like.
It’s like having a baby, you might think you’ll NEVER DO IT AGAIN, because having your insides ripped out isn’t really that much fun. But people quickly forget what it was like, unless they have life long side effects, then they’ll remember. But we lie to ourselves and think, hey, it wasn’t THAT bad. Yes, yes it was that bad, for a lot of women, but our brains, and hormones, lie to us, just like everything and everyone else. I mean how else will we keep our murderous species going, right? If we were able to think straight, because our hormones didn’t screw around with us, our species would die out pretty quickly. If you think I’m wrong, look at animals who only mate once a year. Why do you think that is? It’s because once a year their HORMONES kick in and they go nuts, just like us. Unfortunately, our hormones don’t take a break.
The above picture is that of a RUNNER. Someone who finally realizes what she got herself into. She is trying to run as fast as she can, in order to get away from life, or whatever is chasing her, but alas, it’s a losing battle.
There are lots of different categories, but I saw this picture and recognized the symptoms immediately. She’s silently screaming, “RUN, RUN, RUN”, but there’s really nowhere she can go. Once you’re here, there’s only one way out…you have to die.
We come here, and instead of having fun, we make up questions, that have no answers and then spend out time trying to answer the answerless questions while working ourselves to death. We hate each other, kill everything, including ourselves, and now and then, we get to read, have a cup of tea, love a cat, or someone else who doesn’t know why we’re here, and think, Wow! Life is Good. At which point something horrific happens, and you wish you’d never been dumb enough to come here in the first place. It’s a perfect circle.
Oh, sure, some people have “perfect” lives. I don’t happen to know any of those people, but maybe you do. And when the perfect people sometimes kill each other, or get divorced, everyone is surprised, because no one seems to expect perfect people to be…anything but perfect. Definitions of perfection vary.
One of the really insane parts of life, is that we’re just thrown into the pool without swimming lessons. That, along with the rules and lies that try to turn us into whatever someone else wants us to become, kind of takes the FUN out of being here.
So we come here, completely helpless. Unlike a faun, who drops to the ground, gets a few nuzzles, and licks, then gets up and runs with the herd, we just lay there. Can’t see, or hold up our own heads. How embarrassing and pathetic. Really, the other animals must be laughing their asses off. Finally, we roll over. Hard to believe that people get excited over that, but they do. Then we sit up. Ta da. Meanwhile the faun is running around, jumping, playing, and growing. We can sit up. OMG
Eventually we stand and many pictures are taken. It usually takes about eleven months to do that, more or less, depending on how depressed the trapped person inside the body is. The faun is a deer now, or at least a teenager. The baby has people hysterical with joy because it can walk. Video’s, applause and gasps of wonder, even in the face of the billions of people who have done it before, including the people who stare in amazement at the unsteady baby toddling along. I guess that’s a big deal when one considers we started out as a lump of human, but still, look what the deer is doing. The faun was expected to get up and go. It’s a milestone when we get up at all.
So we’re up, and we start to find out what we can and cannot do. We become indoctrinated, conditioned and brainwashed. The deer, just knows to follow the herd, eat grass and dance. We are shoved behind desks and lies are drilled into our heads, about founding fathers and war, flax and other things. The deer has no need to learn about it’s family tree. The deer doesn’t have insane relatives who murdered everyone. The deer, are nice.
Anyway, parents and children often disagree about things, and some parents are sorry they had their terrible kids, other people gush over them and drive them insane, there’s no way to win with teenagers, or parents. Parents believe it’s up to them to run the lives of their children, and children just laugh and do pretty much what they want,, just like their parents did when they were teenagers. Some parents are horrific, some are not.
We “fall” in love, or something we think of as love, and hearts break or, they are carried over a thresh hold. No one can tell anyone what marriage is like. If our parents are the big examples…that can mean battering, hate, cheating, love, kindness, or anything else. Our brains tell us we can handle anything. Until we can’t, or until we just give up and die. Either way, it’s another learning experience, and no two are alike. Why we want to learn any of these things is another question without an answer. Does it make us better people. NO, it does not. Ask yourself…better than what. The deer doesn’t need to be better than it is. It’s perfect. We don’t even know what we really are, but I don’t think we’re perfect in any way at all.
If we find true love, whatever that is, and the other person dies, we often find out that we can actually survive, even if we don’t want to. Life is flat and dull, from then on. No one cares, or understands because we are each locked into our own bubbles.
Our bubbles may bump into each other but we can’t FEEL anything that’s not happening to us personally. If people say they can feel what you’re feeling…they can’t. No one should ever say, “I know how you feel,” because they don’t. It’s not possible. “I think, or can only imagine how you feel,” would be better.
So, you may think you’re going to die young because you hang around with kids who all think they’re going to die young, in car crashes, or gang fights, or just because they can. But you don’t die, and you’re surprised. Or maybe not. Then you wonder what happened to you. Why is the price for not dying, so high? Why do people think you get wiser, or anything else? Why is this place so filled with lies? You ask yourself lots of questions and think back to the time when you never thought you would hit thirty, let alone whatever age you are after that. Thirty, once seemed ancient. Like fossil ancient.
The deer by this time has had fauns of her own, who are off with others, living their lives and not attached to their mother forever. The deer has moved on and her mother has had other fauns who have moved on as well. None of them keep in touch. Like the deer, some parents never see their kids, while others never let them go. Not all parents are nice. Not all kids are nice either. Expectations can ruin lives, so can violence, or any number of things. Some kids die. When that happens, life changes forever. But it’s always changing forever, just not in such an obvious and horrific way.
There are as many different lives as there are people. It’s good to remember that. We only agree on a few things and even then, not always. Like stop lights. We don’t even agree on whether or not killing each other is a bad thing. War is murder, but that sounds bad so they don’t use that word. We do that a lot. Change what we call things, so people don’t get upset. We lie all the time. Secrets are big as well. Secrets and lies go together quite often…between lovers, families, governments, and everyone in the world. Smoke and mirrors.
So, the deer is near the end of her life and so are we. This deer lived a really long time, so just go with it. We can’t be sure she hasn’t been asking herself the same questions we have, but I hope not. I hope she had a nice quiet life, and maybe even killed a few hunters. But, we often go out asking the same thing we asked when we came here…What are we, who are we and why were we stupid enough to come here…AGAIN…when the only thing I learned was, TO NEVER COME HERE AGAIN.
Anyway, the biggest difference between a faun and a baby, besides living outside, he bugs and four legs, is freedom and community. True community. I think the deer and other animals are far more intelligent and caring than we are. Just my opinion, of course. But there are never any strings attached, when one animal helps another. Sure, they might be territorial, but think of Russia and the Ukraine. Humans just slaughter each other, animals never do that. They may fight for food, mates and territory but they don’t dream of take overs and they don’t hate each other. Instinct might make they battle for mates, during mating season, but that’s out of their control. There are a lot of things that are out of our control as well. A LOT. Maybe everything. The beings who program us might just think it’s funny to see us kill each other.
So, from babies to old people, some just work themselves to death, clean, take care of others, and never really understand that we should just stop all that garbage and have a good time while we’re here. Some people figure that out, but they are usually rich, or called bad names. Society calls people names, to keep them in line. We are the heard, after all, the workers that keep the machine running for the rich, so they can do what they want to do, without any bad labels at all. How stupid ARE we? Another question we cannot answer…or maybe we can. Amazingly, incredibly, unbelievable, stupid would be my guess. Working to death for others who sit back and relax? Stupid.
In the end, all that work, years of learning how to hold up our heads, sit, stand, learning how to read…and then it’s all over. We make life so complicated. The deer just lives. I think we forgot how to live. Or we only allow ourselves to live once in awhile. People live on weekends, or two or three weeks a year. Think about that. Who set up the system where rich people don’t work and everyone else does? Does it make sense? For which group of people? For the majority of people, working doesn’t add happiness to their lives. Yet, that’s how their lives are spent…being unhappy because of work they hate.
Anyway, Frida Kahlo isn’t coming back, at least that’s what she said, but I bet she does. She’ll have to start all over, of course. Learn how to sit, stand, speak, but she might have some more paintings to do. I hope she doesn’t come back with cheating, evil Diego. But her choice. He’ll probably follow her, so he can continue to torture her, or maybe he’ll be nice the next time around. Who knows.
As for me, all I want to do is find out how this place got started then kill the thing that made it this way. I’m all about revenge.
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