The final act


This is the final act. This is final because I’m bored with the monotonic titles I’ve been giving lately. After this I’ll post under the act of injustice some posts which won’t be any acts. I should explain the king of the titles, the act of injustice. It isn’t really too big a something, but is a question. Why? Mr. Covey says that whatever happens to you is your own fault. I can accept his hypothesis, and the your in the previous line, I assume it to be the collective your for a collective you.

Why? The question is: why do we have a brain that can think of us not having a purpose, and still be so dumb, or not sharp enough, to get the answer? This is my problem. Your problem. Every existentialist’s problem. Blessed are those who haven’t still thought of it.

So, you get what the injustice is all about? Now the answer I think lies not in finding the answer, but in finding our weaknesses. The problem may be difficult, but like every master puzzle, the answer will be an aha effect; it’ll be so easy, so clear, so fucking obvious.

Everything simple, or obvious has had been a miracle at some point of time. Newton was not so genius to think that something was pulling us down. Fire? Your mirror image. Imagine the horror of the first dude who saw his reflection and was teased all day long by this weirdo who copied all his actions.

So you say existentialism is a bigger or better or a more complex something? I say, yes. In the timeline we are at present, it is. It could well have been a different world had some dude made the right choice. It should rather be the collective choice: the choice of the crowd.

All we need is a hope. And some dope.

Who are we to cry for injustice when we are the ones who made all the choices?

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