Psychogenic

It is shocking for a modern reader to learn the fate of great minds in the past. What's less shocking perhaps is that generally the fate of most men did not usually astray far from that genocidal proverbial tree. You need not be a great mind. It's easier when you are not. I may find myself midway, neither great nor a simpleton. It is here in the middle that you can easily be torn, for you're not good enough yet better by far than most. If you play dumb, it doesn't come off as easily since the part that makes you slightly less than stellar finds a way to brag and fuss as if you. It's knowing that I equated with misery, but now I find that perhaps is not knowing that inflicts the pain. The problem lies in not doing as you know. By any standard, even at your worse, you're still far better than most. And it's not that I am missing out much; I am content with less, or not any more miserable by the lack of excess; I always have and that is a noble trait. 

Life's not much by any measure. It is a predicament that the greatest men had in common. Nietzsche, in this respect, denounces all great minds as decadent for not seeing just how precious and therefore how wrong these wisest of men were in their predicament. What makes things more interesting is knowing Nietzsche's deteriorated state of mind by the time he wrote Twilight of the Idols. Despite his health woes, Nietzsche's assessment is a departure from his pessimistic roots, setting him apart from early influences, particularly that of Schopenhauerian ascendency, consumated in his infamous maxim: "Do not listen to the voices of doom". 

Life's not without its share of absurdum or is thereof devoid of meaning either. Whichever way you go about, it has a way of beinging you down when you aim too high or giving you wings so that you can get down and dirty in the mud. It's not about happiness; it's about homeostasis, finding balance, equilibrium, centeredness. Let's not swing for the extremes, and find ourselves neither too miserable, or too content, too anything. Nothing's as seriousness that you cannot find irs comical extremity, or too lax. You may be too much of anything but only for a brief moment. Aim at finding neutrality and see just how naturally you give in to either a bit more or somehow less, as your natural instinct may be.

We'd like to live long healthy lives. No one in their right mind would want to live life all over again, exactly the same way, unless there is a chance to alter some aspect of it. Live then as if you had been given the chance to repeat this very moment and were to make it so that it'd be worth having gone through so much misery just to get to this place. 

That we go through existence in order to exonerate past regressions may suffice for some; the vast majority haven't really given it much thought as to whether what age they'd rather be if they happen to stumble upon eternity. How masochistic you'd have to be to want to just perpetuate a mediocre existence or live under the illusion that when you die, you'd be taking to a nicer place, some neat realm in the aftermath of this sad caravan of ineptitude. 

What is the need for an afterlife? Any given moment alive, you can claim such immortality, were you inclined to be adventurous and bold. It requires a little bit of imagination, and guts. Then, once you have too many of such moments, you get acquainted with the uneasiness of boredom. Your mind gets used to see the passage of time without filling in the void. You master stillness and it feels like gold. It makes silence look cheap. You could find a quiet place and enjoy a quiet moment, and be grateful for it. But then you find a rarer and finer stone than gratitude in grace. Any fool can be greatful, the sole notion reeks of arrogance, as in a pedestal. Gratitude implies you have something, someone to be grateful for; grace is a state of mind that doesn't require anything. It is a quality that makes others express gratitude. You'd much rather come across someone who's graceful than someone thankful. It's noble to be a thankful soul, but it is beyond nobility to be graceful. 

In life, a multitude of second chances abide, if you fail to see so then there's nothing that many other potential lives may offer; it's not how much you have at your disposal as to what amount of what you have is put to good use. You don't have to be wasteful but don't be too stingy either. 

It is the same when it comes to matters of talent and intelligence: no one's waiting for a more intelligently designed or a special talent that will be inherited in the afterlife. If anything, in most theistic promesis there's a quid pro quo involved: either you're paying for transgressions committed in a previous existence or you're accumulating points towards a good heavenly pension. 

One ought to be mad to let what's at our disposal slide in the hopes that something would better come along. 

Not just when it comes to devine retribution, but also by sacrificing today for tomorrow, by letting this very moment pass you by without taking matters into your hands now. We pass on the opportunity that comes knocking our way, convinced that we will knock the door down to the many surprises awaiting us in a not so distant future. 

Agitators and conspirators abound, but nothing's less worthy of our precious time than spending a fraction of it in changing people's minds. We have a hard enough time changing ours. Why, then, bother with the task at hand, if not to inspire others? That it may happen as a byproduct is enough reassurance. Suggestion rather than dogma; dialogue instead of argument. Constructive input, if required. Listen avidly to curious and akin minds; let others do the talking, and speak out against ill-conceived behavior or advice. 

Writing is not presumably concerned with the potential reader. The message should be clear. It may denote reality gruesomely.  Best to offer solutions than decrying the status quo; best to denounce it, but preferably do so straightforwardly. It makes use of satire, irony, hyperbole to denote that which in turn may be tyrannical, but most would agree: pointing out stupidity is far less dangerous than suffering it, especially if it's done quietly, in the privacy of your own. 

It is best not to incite others with inflammatory rhetoric; no need to take action, just notice. Movements, even of the nonviolent kind, make far too much noise. We may, however, decide to make the immediate world around us better, be strategically generous, let kindness prevail, keep to ourselves in spite of the wild outdoors. There's so much suffering in the world but we can choose to suffer quietly, opting out of spreading misery or imposing joy. Let others make all the noise so that when even a whisper comes out, it roars. It is quietude, not silence, that speaks ever so loudly. 

Complaints are a waste; outrage doesn't change anything. It's not criticism we should seek, though it may be necessary at times, but observation. 

Perhaps the most noteworthy of them all is that of a small town Jewish prophet who preached equality among men, pious living and love of thy neighbor named Jesus of Nazareth. 

Romans had a peculiar, yet effective way, to deal with those who oppose its rule: assured destruction. We may honor the lauded exceptions to the rule, but these are few and in most cases did not end well for the heroe in question. Such were the fates of eminent figures the likes of Galileo, Socrates, Cicero, Seneca, Tesla, and so many more. We were never ruled by the wisest nor the most savage men. We were ruled nonetheless, and not by the best of them. 

If said men had it so bad, what's left for the rest of us? The greater you are, the more likely you are to suffer. Others will make sure of it. What's the alternative? Await the moment when enlightenment takes over? Who's to say just how sad such spectacle might be. Let them have their cake and eat less. You're here to entertain. If you do suffer, be graceful about it. Let others be thankful if they will. It's more suitable of them.