Is This Real?

Existential Angst Between Scylla and Charybdis

¹ In trying to write my substack, to meet the desire to understand what has, is, and will happen, I am stymied by by efforts to see what was, does, and will exist.

This is the existential horror, this inability by me, my family, my community, and the greater world, to accept what has, is, and will happen; this inability to accept that what was a whole and complete world is no long so - individually, communally, nationally, in religion, the sciences, the art, education, government, business, or really, in any and everything else - is enabling our collective annihilation both self and externally imposed, driven by the insanity causing inability, or perhaps refusal, to see.

None of us are free of this. Whatever you live, whatever you are, whatever you have done, you who are reading this is almost certainly just as complicit in this blindness. But do not punish yourself for being blind. I have tried, rather poorly at that, to see my world as it is. I have seen it to be an abyss, and Nietzschean like, it has looked back. I do not know if I will be able to maintain the clarity of vision that I have into it, it is so damn agonizing to have it look back at me; my, it is such a fascinatingly horrifying, yet attractive, vision.

This vision, wonderfully and thankfully incomplete as it is, so wonderfully, confusingly, painful, which changes in both the kind and intensities of pain. It likes to dance throughout my body, my mind, my emotions, and on my worse days, my soul. Everything from phantom twitches in my feet to the very real visual shooting pain by left eye. And all the enjoyment between throughout the day.

It is a balancing act between the pain of not seeing and the pain of not looking; do I accept the need to see, to eventually act on it, and then enjoy the painful insanity of doing so, or do I accept the need to not see and therefore the pain insanity physical, mental, and emotional, of not doing so? All this, just to keep in mind that receiving any of the pitiful amount of sleep that I have each night depends upon this balancing between the right amount each of vision and blindness.

Does this explain why our world is so insane, this balancing between blindness and vision, the acts of seeing and hearing and doing the process of looking and listening? Or of not doing? This need to look, but not see, to hear, but not listen, to exist, but not be real, not dead, but not alive?

Our collectively imposed Hell.

1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Between_Scylla_and_Charybdis