Dieing

Every moment of our life we are dieing. We all know it. Every second we have lived is one second less left on our life savings. What we fail to realize is that us dieing isn't just a natural process caused by the passing of time.We do it to ourselves. Day by day we kill off little parts of ourselves, hoping to achieve... What?
Today, you decide to become a victim, hoping to get some sympathy, maybe even a little bit of love. And that's OK. It would be OK, if in order to achieve that you didn't have to kill of a part of you that's saying: "I'm OK, I like my life, I'm happy" You can't have that if you are going to be a successful victim, so you just shut it up. Kill it off.
Tomorrow, you'll decide to be a successful businessman. So you'll have to kill off the victim, and the generous, compassionate guy, and the guy who loves little fuzzy animals, because you can't have them living in your head if you are going to be a business mogul. Bang - they're dead.
A day after that, you decide to become a mother. Bang - bang - there goes the little slut you liked yourself so much as, and the irresponsible little twit, and the self absorbed, careless little bitch everybody loved hating. Forget about them, you're a mother now, bang - bang.
And then, a few days later, your kids are all grown up, your bank account is loaded, your hair is getting gray,and the hole left inside you, shaped like all the people you have killed is getting seriously big, so you decide that you are old. An so you kill off the few people that have managed to survive inside you - The mother - bang - she was shot the day your kids moved out of the house. The businessman - bang - he died the day you retired. The guy who liked laughing - bang - dies the day you decide to become a bitter old man, mad about the life he's wasted. The dancer, the reader, the singer, the philosopher - bang - bang - bang - they are all dead once you decide you are too old to try, too old to care.
And finally on your last day, you menage to squeeze that last little bang out off your old, warn out self in order to kill off the last trace of life inside you. Finally free to achieve... What?

Think, God damn it! Think!

Our world seems to work on the twisted principle of precedents. If the same thing happens a large number of times, it becomes normal. It even becomes good. If not good, than not bad. That is simply sick.
For example: millions of people are doing jobs they don’t like. We all know it. We think it’s sad, but we won’t do anything to stop it. It’s sad, but it is normal.
It’s not. It’s not normal. It’s not even sad. It’s sick. It’s at least eight hours a day, every day of your life. Eight hours is a half of your waking life. Take away commuting, and showers, and eating and it’s more than a half. And you are spending it doing something you don’t like. And you really think that’s normal? No you don’t. You just don’t think. You simply take it head on.
But let’s look at another example – the other side of the not thinking medal. The things that really piss you off. Like that little bimbo who just flashes her legs every once in a while, and gets a paycheck way bigger then yours, and you are working your ass of while she just smiles at clients. It’s just killing you. It’s normal that it’s killing you.
Why? Why is it normal? Why do you want a bigger salary? So you could by a bigger TV? A faster car? A smaller cell phone? A bigger house? Do you really need that crap? Of course you don’t. You know that you don’t.
But you’ll say that’s not the real problem, the real problem is the leggy bimbo whose paycheck is as fat as you are. Why in the world is that your problem? Is she hurting you? What is she going to do with the extra money? Get more short skirts? More plastic surgery? More makeup? Go to the Bahamas? Adopt a child? Why in the world would you mind that?
Because it isn’t fair? Fair? What’s fair? You spending forty hours a week working a job you don’t like, so you could by crap you don’t need? Getting more and more bitter with every breath you take? Losing faith? Losing hope? Being constantly afraid of everything and everyone? Forgetting how to really talk to people? Being pushed around? Pushing other people around? Having nightmares, and waking up and wishing you stayed asleep with the bogyman? Is that fair? Is that fair?
Think about it. Think. You are doing all this to yourself, simply because you are too lazy, or too scared to stop and think every once in a while. I bet that if you didn’t get yourself into this kind of crap, the leggy blond wouldn’t be such a big deal problem.
So think. What is the worst thing that can happen if you do the things you’ve always wanted to do? What if you quit your job? Will you really starve to death? What if you do? That isn’t much worse than slowly dieing every second you spend at the office.
Think. The next time you reach for your little plastic card, think about the crap you are piling up and stop buying. Are you really ready to work 500 hours for a new car? 5000 hours for a new house? 50000 hours for ten years of comfortable, consumer driven life? Do you really love that stuff that much?
Think. The next time a bully pushes you around, think about the worst thing that can happen if you fight back. A black eye? A broken nose? A night in jail? Is that really too big a price for growing a spine?
Think. The next time you feel afraid, or stressed out just think. What is the worst thing that can happen? It’s usually way better than what you are feeling right there and than.