#thought session

There truly isn’t anything like that first...”spark”

Really what I mean by this is that first moment when something moves from the realm of unknown to the known. 

And I use the word ‘moment’ very loosely, a moment is not limited to any particular time span but there is always a span time. 

Sure precious, we must cherish what we know while we still know it because before we know it we don’t know it anymore - I know.

But still, still very significant to note that nothing, nothing at all, will ever compare to that first SPARK. Those many first SPARKS, that we will have and never be able to return to.

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Update: 1:29

See that’s where you’re very wrong. 

Though you physically cannot transport (as of 2016) back to that “moment” - the idea remains, the idea that is strong enough to form visuals, visuals that are strong enough to strike home into your heart where that spark had once before lit up inside you. You will feel it. Right in that spot, always. 

You will feel me alive for as long as you think of me. 

This first started off as a post about eating food you love for the first time and that moment where you fall in love with it but now my thoughts have shifted to my late grandfather, William Rodriguez... almost as if those were his words to me.

Thank you,

"That quest for the authentic, is the very thing that causes the world to seem so unreal and staged. People can’t stop themselves from competing for status. It is branded into the side of the brain before you are born. As a primate, status hierarchies are a part of life, and when you remove yourself from the competition in the mainstream you just join the competition in the counterculture. As long as there are clusters of people bent on avoiding what is most popular, within those clusters people will compete for status through conspicuous consumption of art and fashion, music and movies, furniture and gadgets, signaling to insiders the quality of their taste or the ingenuity of their search for the authentic, and signaling to the outsiders that they are not one of them."

here

something to think about but I feel the article is trying to cover all corners of the issues that sometimes, its argument really isn't flowing on the same wavelengths. not to forget, definitions of some critical terms are quite dodgy. What is life - physical, scientific living or spiritual living if that even exists. And using that, what exactly is death?

But still an article to check out and an important topic to reflect upon. It may be grimer and more unappealing then our usual teenage conversations about boys, girls and naive love (do we even know what we're talking about) but certainly, it's much more rewarding.

"To fear death, my friends, is only to think ourselves wise, without being wise: for it is to think that we know what we do not know. For anything that men can tell, death may be the greatest good that can happen to them: but they fear it as if they knew quite well that it was the greatest of evils. And what is this but that shameful ignorance of thinking that we know what we do not know?"

Neither is there the redolence of apple pie after it has been wiped clean from a plate. In retrospect, there never was an apple pie. Home baked goods in summers and autumns that are nudged lovingly out of the oven with gentle, yet strong motherly hands. An archetype of “the perfect family”: the one with the father and mother and older brother and little sister and dog and scooter and apples. The kind of family that endures such inconsequential matters such as seasons.

"come for hair for hope! I'm shaving my head as well!" "hahaha why?" "let's show them cancer patients some support - show them that they are actually beautiful as well."

(Well if only we toss away the very likely idea that most people are only shaving their heads out of peer pressure/ in an valiant (or maybe not so?) attempt to be 'cool' and assume that all shavees are doing it in a sincere wish to help the cancer community in the little way they can..)

Anyway, in the age where we're surrounded with countless images of slender waists, sensual curves and bright sparkling eyes - the set of criteria we use to gauge physical beauty, what truly is beauty? In today's schools, are the pretty girls starve themselves voluntarily because "their legs are too fat for the boys to like" and those who who spend 2 lives' worth of fortunes on beauty products in a desperate attempt to hide away their insecure souls beautiful?

Maybe it's this excess superficiality in our culture that has somehow forced a counteraction of promoting the message that everyone is beautiful in their own ways regardless of their physical appearance. That is what the dreamy idealists amongst us will like us to believe - that fairy tales still work their magic in real life - that there is still beauty in even the most wretched of human beings. That's what all the everyone-is-beautiful movements today are born out of.

Doesn't this all water down to the claim that to be human is to be beautiful? Now what is human? Certainly there is nothing to deem beautiful about the escalating crime rate around the world as well as the wars, strife and mass killings terrifying the human race today. Lots of things humans do are far from beautiful so I just hope we can just stop romanticising the idea of beauty and realise that NOT EVERYONE IS BEAUTIFUL.

(the definition of beauty here has grown vague so I feel the need to state that the 'beauty' i'm referring to here isn't the superficial, apearance-based attractiveness that is so outstandingly present in, imo, almost everybuddy I meet everyday sighhh)

And maybe this is a little naive of me but I really cannot agree when people deem sadness and suffering as beauty. Yes, there is beauty in the courageous spirit of the struggling cancer patients, there is beauty in the love which made the mother give up her life for her beloved kid - but sometimes, we shouldn't kid ourselves. There's nothing beautiful in watching a gaunt cancer patient undergo chemotherapy with his chest heaving heavily with every tear that escapes from the pain in his eyes. There's nothing beautiful in the agony of a child who lost his mother, his light, his saviour, as well as the quiet sadness experienced by the rest of the family. Let's not discount this pain, this suffering, and just because we cannot bear to watch it, pass it off as beauty. That is just incredibly duplicitious and sad - to not recognise the ugliness of suffering and to even try to conceal that marring disformity by attempting to sell it as yet another form of beauty.

If you think this distortion of the human body and mind is still beautiful then in my opinion, hmmm. Until you have witnessed someone pass away or disappear into the abyss of tarnished emotions - doesn't matter if it's someone you hold close to your heart - you will only have your ignorant judgements to count on.