Actuality of Mind

Comrade, it's horrible when the mind comes to realize certain things.

Sleep is the enemy. This is what my body is telling me with my insomnia. If I sleep, then I can't work. If I don't work, then I can't prepare and make everything all right.

I can't save them all. I want to, but it's impossible. They make it hard for me to want to try and save them when they treat others so badly. If I can't even leave for a day, then why should I really try to help?

If the state and length of our lives is nothing more than a snowflake in a blizzard, then what is the ultimate goal? The ultimate purpose?
We constantly ask the universe, "Why are we here?" Is that the right question? Shouldn't the question really be, "What is it that you want?"
And what is it that the universe, or God, or Time, or Fate, or the little old man named Murray that lives in the Sun wants?
Mankind...humanity desperately wants a purpose, but why is it needed? Why MUST we have a reason for living? You have an ant farm just so you can watch the ants go about their lives. Usually there is no grand experiment. What if it is the same for us? It could be that there is no grand purpose but a sense of cosmic voyeurism.

We fight for out principles, but hypocrisy is our greatest luxury as human beings. Everyone says they want to help.
Stop global warming.
Help the homeless.
Save our fellow man/animal/cause.
Yet, when the time comes to truly act, so many of us do nothing. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, but sights are all courtesy of the hypocrites who walk the path.

We, as human beings, fathom the infinite on a daily basis. We constantly question. The problem, however, isn't the questioning. That leads to growth. The problem is that our next generation does not question...they believe they have the answers. They cannot leave anything to chance.

New Money....Old Money. The difference in the way people act is sadly divided in this way.
Too many teenagers these days have too much privilege, and we are all suffering for it. Not even Icarus can save us this time.

Love is a fragile construct. There are many metaphors and similes to describe an emotion about which we know so little. It is also the emotion that we dictate to be the best, but to truly understand love is next to impossible. Not with all of its definitions and connotations and such.

Anger, though a damning emotion, is a wonderful fuel if used right.

Perhaps I'm wrong. Maybe, comrade, there is a higher purpose for everything, but if it's all in the details, then the flaws of mankind are showing themselves to me at a greater frequency. Trust is dying.

Maybe Jack Burton was right.

Here endeth the lesson.