Withhold from judgement and your world will change.
1. It’s pretty clear that the initial reaction to a (perceived) wrong is one of cognitive violence, that is, more often than not, anger. So, in withholding judgement you would postpone or delay this anger.
2. The cognitive violence stalled, your mind will need to move elsewhere. I am inclined to believe this movement would be toward another basic ability: attempting to understand, or, make-sense-of.
3. Now, what are we doing here? Trying to understand, or, make-sense-of? Moving toward – empathy. The cognitive reaction of anger is withdrawal, inward; but this empathy, this trying to understand, or, make-sense-of is cognitively expansive, a movement of embrace and externality.
The argument ought run thus: the initial cognitive act is both negative and positive. Negative because it is to ‘withhold’ the originally prompted reaction; and, positive because this act would require some effort. Prolonged and consistent effort in this act would begin such an action as a ‘habit’, at which point the positive force would likely become negligible, and perhaps become a new initiatory prompt.
From here, change.
One day the lexicon of language will require de-coding. The acronyms WILL take over.Most will talk in ‘words’, the base or meaning of which will neither be questioned nor understood. Not just ‘not understood’, the ability to begin to understand will itself be out of reach.
Language-spoken will become a wholly sonic venturing, like a buzz, a chirp, a new human noise, devoid of content; a simple formal arrangement of sound.
If this is not evident already, its obviousness is not far distant.
An enduring sadness, unrelated to my self (to me). Sorrow for it all. Its intractable deterioration; progress only for the absolute end.An absence of hope, but without the peace of surrender. The premonition of decay, pain; a recollection of the whole of now.
Realising loneliness and alienation; realising no return path.
Seeking the great(est)- only selfishly; only for an aesthetic momentary quietude.
Evading the death that is already of everything.
It’s a dangerous format, these social mediums: they tend to isolation and shallowness. That may well be a problem with language itself: it forces itself and the speaker to seek what really is unfoundable; a sort of wrenched self, exasperated and lost, haunted by its own echo; this cavernous reflective consciousness unable to grasp itself, distended and warped by desiring an object to proffer the glint of intimacy. All this, in a word- ‘truth’. Perhaps love and missing are positively refined as yearning. Engaged in love and longing, there is always the yearning, and this is beautiful for brought before us is both that lost self and that unfoundable object. The pure dynamism and relationalness- that impossible loneliness, that is, unloneliness. You cannot, really, be alone.
So many things need to remain secret. Even trying to share some of these things buries them further. That sentence in a novel, that line in that book; that singer’s voice; that chord in that symphony; that sun ray, stretched for a moment across the evening sky, tearing through the slightest parting clouds; that breath that sweeps into your body; that touch of another’s hand at that time; that look of love.
That reaching out, filled with the completed sense of meaning: that “I’ve got it”; “it all makes sense”; that fleeting wholeness.
All moments discrete and distinct.
Only in common as particulars.
Your existence is a secret.
I’ve pulled myself from a great depth to be this shallow.
You know, if you provide “feedback” for a company about their product or service, you’re “working” for free. Whilst, strangely, both you and the corporation assume this is a benefit, almost childishly, both expecting some betterment, it is more a symptom of a symbiotic delusion. The corporation sources free ‘consultancy’, and expends vast resources in new infrastructures to allow this “feedback”.
This “feedback” is the most recent and overt surfacing of a well-trained and entrenched delusion. This delusion: that you ought have an opinion. And, yes, the “ought” explicitly evokes the moral obligation- the enforcement of opinion; the duty to opinion.
(Whether the evolution of the idea of individuality has lead to this duty is not questioned here; that is, the cause of the delusion is not being questioned.)
This obligation forces responsiveness to everything- every quivering, irrelevant, trivial variance in the field of social perception. The results are obvious and sickening in a pathological sense. It is devastating for an enlivening of ‘self-hood’. It turns your self into an enervated being, strung out with the constant use of nervous energy: always, on guard, tempted to voice, drawn into the raging and ravaging torrent of expectation. Expending what might be beautiful, caring, constantly- drained of thoughtfulness. Caring is, and becomes a spectacle, a victim.