#but you can at least attempt to be cognizant of your dogs emotional state and minimize her anxiety

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Theyre arguing now which is getting chewby worked up and hes completely oblivious to it until she inevitably barks cuz shes his dog so shes tuned into HIM more than me so he starts yelling at her which continues to work her up

I am holding 65 pounds of anxious pitbull in my lap cuz its the only thing calming her down

If she would follow me upstairs I would just get her to go up there with me

The juxtaposition of reading a dog training book and watching my dad do the exact opposite which is clearly not working is uhhh

[kristofffaust]

The Growth of Nihilism in the Contemporary United States: a brief essay on a somewhat optimistic take on nihilist ideology.

Pictured: Existentialist anarchist Jean-Paul Sartre and his longtime domestic partner, existentialist feminist Simone de Beauvoir.

***

“Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.” — Jean-Paul Sartre

“All oppression creates a state of war.” — Simone de Beauvoir

***

Foreward: This is meant to be a polemic against commonly accepted post-modern takes on nihilism. I find the postmodern take on nihilism a somewhat cyclical and tedious affair, and, quite frankly, their professed monopoly on existentialism is nauseating. Question everything, even if it agrees with your accepted worldview, especially if it agrees with your accepted worldview.

This is an observation on why nihilism has seen such a rapid resurgence in the modern and what it could mean if used differently than the historical stereotypes beholden to it. Indeed, if nihilism is a form of reclaimed agency, then blindly following the pre-existing dogma that nihilism is inherently destructive is, in effect, surrendering your agency to an external ideal and, quite frankly, the most anti-existentialist thing one could do.

Conversely, this is not a profession that nihilism is an entirely benign and benevolent philosophy, but that viewing it as strictly one or the other is narrow-minded and lazy. I acknowledge, with tongue-in-cheek humor, that the average nihilist would deny the existence of either category.

I guess one could say this is an attempt to profess that absurdism and nihilism are two sides of the same coin and as reliant as they are antagonistic towards each other.

***

Nihilism is a subcategory of existentialism and sister ideology to absurdism. Existentialism believes if nothing in life holds any intrinsic value, nothing in this reality matters outside of our subjective experience. As a result, our agency is our responsibility and nobody else’s. Pure nihilism, also known as cosmic nihilism, professes if nothing matters, any action we take in this life doesn’t matter in turn, so why bother. Absurdism, often attributed with existential nihilism, affirms that since nothing matters, nothing is telling us that we can’t enjoy life. This article will focus on cosmic nihilism as it stands with existential nihilism and how our current global and political climate has served as the perfect incubator for a resurgence of both. I argue that nihilism isn’t an inherent negative despite the reputation it carries. Unfortunately, I have to start with the negative as it is generally the negative which births nihilism in the first place.

Nihilism is a recurring and pervasive theme in the millennial generation. When the layers peel back, it’s easy to see how this happened. We were born on the mountain of Apocrypha with nowhere to turn. We manifested in the period between Boomer idealism and the total implosion of ‘traditional’ Amerikan ideology. Our elders taught us that the only thing we should want out of life is to get married, have children, go to college, and get a desk job. Life conditioned us to believe that our worth is directly tied to our income. We grew up thinking that we could do and achieve anything as long as we realized a dystopian dream of the perfect little citizen.

Fast forward now that we’re all in our 30’s. Only a handful of us is successful with families. Most of us divorced from our spouses at least once, if we make it to marriage at all. Most of us, who didn’t sell our souls to Uncle Sam, who had gotten college degrees are now up to our necks in debt which we will never be able to repay. Those who pursued labor jobs struggle to make ends meet because the average salary of the most commonplace millennial jobs is insufficient to live comfortably. Most of us realized we inherited the trauma of our parents and their parents and, as a result, are terrified of having children who will inherit our trauma in turn. Mental health is a privilege, even though those in the direst need of mental health come from underprivileged backgrounds. The list goes on. Indeed, there are positives of the millennial generation, but those exposed to the negative see little else. David Bowie and Jimi Hendrix give way to Cannibal Corpse, SlipKnoT, Dying Fetus, and a multitude of other extreme genres which were unheard of before the millennial generation.

Now, we can turn our analysis towards the ironic positives of nihilism. Nihilism serves as a powerful panacea to the torment of daily existence. When an individual recognizes that nothing in the universe matters and holds zero intrinsic value, suddenly, the suffering ceases to be consequential. The pain doesn’t matter. What are emotions but a complex chemical reaction engineered to elicit a specific response from our fleshy meat suits? Our mistakes don’t matter. In the infinite expanse of time, any mistakes we make in this life eventually disperse like so much dust in the wind. The only thing that truly matters is the cognizance of our current existence and the experience we glean from it at the moment. For instance, why do I write these essays which nobody bothers reading anyway? Well, why not. Whether I write them or don’t write them, in the end, holds no intrinsic value. Consequently, to write the essay is equally valid as abstaining from writing.

To be extant is the only accurate declaration we can make. Thus every stimulus we feel, every sight we take in, every smell we experience, if it’s all equally worthless, then by extension, it all holds equal value. Feel nothing if you so choose. That nothing still requires a something to stand in negation to it. Thus your exalted nothing in effect becomes something and back to nothing again [for a more exhaustive explanation of this principle, I recommend Hegel’s admittedly dense read ‘Science of Logic’].

Nihilism does not have to be destructive. I argue that reckless destruction underutilizes the power of nihilism. If we are all imprisoned in this unforgiving reality, why not make the experience less painful for each other. To induce pain upon others means that the individual has placed value in control and, by extension, ceases to be a nihilist. To completely erase the pain from existence is infinitely more nihilist in the act of devaluing something considered critical to life. Of course, the pain never ceases, but this shouldn’t bother the true nihilist. If the nihilist doesn’t matter, then why not devote your life towards devaluing that which attempts to rob agency from others? It can be a lonely and thankless road, which makes it just as good as any road. Nihilism is an expression of existentialism which is the exaltation that the only objective truth that manifests is your subjective reality. If we should destroy, we should destroy the authoritarian act of robbing another of their agency.

Or maybe it doesn’t matter in the end, and the nihilist can exist in their bubble and waste away. Such is your choice in the end.

“Will you perish like a dog, or will you fight?”

Ave Satanas

[jmeetsc-blog]

Star-crossed Lovers

It was raining cats and dogs one busy night in the city. Yet, people were not really bothered by the heavy rain. Everyone was doing their usual daily routines despite the fussy weather–commuters trodding along the sidewalks and pedestrian lanes, either from work or the mall, some hailing for cabs or noisily chatting with their companions, while others were dining in to eat or drink liquor to rejoice for Happy Thursday or to grab their fave frappuccino or hot coffee or tea to chill, to chat or simply to wait for the traffic to subside. I was one of the latter.

I was sitting alone silently at a corner outside of the coffeeshop, sipping from my usual choco fix and puffing on cigarettes one after the other. The rain has stopped, but the streets were still damp and slippery. It was nine in the evening and I bet traffic has died down, as passers-by were getting fewer, too. The night got tranquil, yet my mind was in a state of bewilderment, wandering every nook and cranny of my underlying thoughts, flooding me with obscure emotions. It was funny how my mind got me in a whirl just like that–baffled, fazed and perturbed all at the same time. It brought me to a place unknown. So far away. A sort of an escape. From everything and everyone. Chimera slowly filled up my mind. That very instant, my heart was beating a tad faster. That’s when I suddenly realized that I was beaming again with unrattled hope, still grasping on to its thin-like thread..

Slowly drifting back to reality, I let out a sigh. My mind that was so clouded awhile back, seemed to be convalescing from all the triggered trifle that has been lingering in it for quite some time. Minute after minute, things have started to be more lucid. Everything just happened to turn out so palpable and unfeigned. Not that it wasn’t before, but this has become so much more of like a positive confirmation and proclamation, an attestation of my wavering emotions, a dose of reality that hit me so hard on the head like a brick.

“Fuck, I sincerely do love you. Everything about you.” was all that I could murmur to myself. I mean, I am now very certain that I do, and the scary thing is, it does not simply halt there. It isn’t like just because of your aquiline nose, fair skin, lean physique nor your hot corporate attire everyday. This is an inexplicable gust of affection that transcends superficialities. It is way beyond the ventricular contractions or hyperventilation you caused everytime. There was something about you that piloted me to knowing you more, and to my astonishment, locked my interest as time flies; and you, prolly, saw that in me, too. I could sense myself trying to hide away my flushed cheeks and a smile in my face, as I kept myself busy, pondering on every minute facet.

Attempting to recapitulate how the cognizance transpired was not a struggle, because that very night when I was all alone in the coffeeshop, filled me up with montage of your images, of my images, so vivid, being put together and fitting so perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle. In saying this, I could indistinctively remember how we got close. We are both wide readers and profound writers by heart. Damn, how often do you chance upon someone who freaking likes both, as much as I do? I mean, my favorite downtime hobbies in the whole wide world! That’s fucking something else! How often do you find someone who appears to be like a replica of yourself? Someone who also likes to mull over random thoughts and ideas? Pondering on some deep shit once every too often? Just about anything. Weird it may sound, but that’s who I am, and funny enough, I stumbled upon another weirdo just like that. Same sense of humor. Same line of thoughts. Same everything. To the extent that no words mandated, because a gaze or a smirk is all that it takes. Everything feels so natural. Freely flowing, that we can almost finish each other’s sentences or even say the exact fucking same thing in unison. We saw each other for who we really are, thus we can still be able to live with ourselves. Live with ourselves in a way that we can, as well, totally just show off our purest form–persona, values, beliefs and/or idealogies, without fear of rejection. It is like being with someone who is an another version of yourself. Well, I reckon that even from the onset, there has been that inimitable spark. We both know it has long been there. It has flown off to the height of it all and has been locked on its own, alternately raving and remaining in a half-dream. A connection that has ignited, burnt and consumed our innermost vested desires and interests. The more we try to put out the fiery spark, the more it flames up and razes ourselves. Who knew that not only hearts could be broken, even minds do. The mere attributes spike a jolt in my heart, running a chill down the spine. Phantasms that actually told me that it has always been you in my head whenever, wherever and whatever happens. Not a few moments after, trails of thought came crashing down at once, leading my mind to a trance-like state…

“It has always been you I have been wishing to be with for so long now, anywhere, anytime and in any way. Doing nothing or doing anything. In quietude or in loquacity.”

“You have been the first person that pops in my mind whenever I read, write, hear any lovesong, watch any kind of film, go to a place I haven’t been before and everything in between and beyond. It has always been you I wanna tell all the happenings that I encounter each and every day, share all my memories and create new ones with.”

“You have always been my constant go-to person when my heart is loaded with gaiety for whatever circumstance there is or when things get out of hand, things getting into my head and have me feeling so fucked up.”

“It has always been you who understands me, who can and would understand or at least tries to so. It has always seemed so easy for you to believe in me, my abilities and in the entirety of my being.”

“It has always been so easy for you to trust me with all of your heart and never to judge or see me so stupid and lowly if I do wrong. You see my human errors and weaknesses and you never use them against me, but instead, you fill the loopholes with your patience, guidance and assistance to make them right.”

“You have been the sole person who adapts and manages to love my quirkiness, my random thoughts, dreams, goals and ideas; my mood swings; my bitchy attitude; my constant naughty teasing and fuck-me-now look; my horny hormones and my amore for foreplay and sex; my insecure feeling-so-ugly-and-fat-as-fuck feeling; my innate snappy temperament; my relentless whining like a child, my making faces and rolling eyes; my iffiness; my weirdly hopeless romantic side; my routinary curious pin-you-on-the-wall questions; my I-won’t-stop-til-you-spill face; my insanely fleeting, almost-on-depression kind of breakdown; my pout with a series of babytalks; my nonsense rants; my ultra long messages or even the unintentional hurtful words I could tell you when I’m mad. I can never enumerate everything, but all that I know is that..”

“You have always accepted me for who I am and for who I am not. For who I am now and neither for who you want me to be nor for any expectation of who I can be someday.”

Suddenly, I was awakened from my reverie with my heart throbbing ever so loudly against my lacey black top. The thoughts were overwhelming as they exploded one by one in my head, one after another. Catching my breath, I tried to rethink how it happened, but words seemingly failed me. Words weren’t enough to speak for what just occured. Maybe, just maybe, it was solely my heart that did the gibberish talking. Laying down all my cards. No inhibitions, no reservations. Just the goddamn thing having a mind of its own.

The dark purplish silhouette of the nightsky continued to envelope above my head, as myriads of stars attempted to steal the limelight with their blaze. I gazed up at the firmament and the only audible word I have muttered was, “Why?” For so long, these questions have bugged the hell out of me, leaving me dumbstruck and exasperated everytime. Right now, the thoughts came running through my wits, haunting me all over again. I, hitherto, couldn’t mumble a thing, for all one knows, it is abstruse and esoteric in nature–the purpose of you walking into my life, of us meeting at this moment in time.. “Why now when everything’s too late?”,I uttered to myself, swigging my choco fix in a few gulps and abruptly looking at my watch. It was already past 10 pm.

As I got inside the cab I hailed, I could perceive the devastating numbness, anguish and desolation, the suppressed fury and regret, the tortuous longing and wanting, all together. I could feel a trouncing void in my heart. Chances are it’s true that when you stare at the abyss for too long, you get sucked in and never return. My case right here is one heck of an epitome for the supposition. I have fallen deeply in love with this person, and now I can neither unfriend nor unlove him. Neither can I forget nor pretend we never knew each other. I felt so vulnerable and impuissant, for my raw emotions eat me alive. What the fuck do you do when at a wrong time, you meet someone who is everything that you wanted? Do you fight or do you flee? Do you stay and wait around, or simply give up and let go?

If only parallel universe existed. If only we had met a few years back. If only things weren’t so complicated here and now. If only we could turn back time to fix our wrong choices in life.

Fate had its game well-played on us and maybe, just maybe, this is not the right time, still. Albeit you might actually be the right person, at this very moment, only time can tell. Our routes might have to sunder now this time, along with our own Personal Legends and new pursuits on the way, yet even if all else fails, I’d love to see you and meet you someday. Somewhere far away from everything and everyone. Somewhere in a coffeeshop, in a bar or in a chic resto uptown. Someday when all is well. You see, I’d look for you and I’d find you. In all possibly existing alternate universes and dimensions, in all conjectured worlds and lifetimes, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d still choose you.