# Samsara



## Selene (Aug 2, 2009)

Whatever the battle, I have been every side. And I am always on the right side. Regardless of which side that is.

The good is what I am. The bad is what I am not. When I switch sides, I remain right. When I am neutral, I am still right, and those who have opinions are wrong.

I write now, but this too will be wrong. After I've changed my mind. Then I'll still be right.

Those who destroy me do me a favor. Can I believe this?

***

The moment I declare myself, my opposite emerges to dispute that identity. How can I be anything when I am so many things all at once? Doesn't this chaos show conclusively that the idea of a unified, coherent self is a mirage?

You are not a single self, because you are constantly changing. You cannot define yourself as any one thing.

Your self is not equal to the entire progression of your parts over time, because what you instinctively cling to as "myself" is really only the present moment.

Your "selves" at different moments contradict each other. You have been opposite things, even seconds apart. You are in constant flux.

You are not yourself, because what could your self be except for your mind and your body? Regardless of which one you choose, they change outside of your control in ways you cannot predict. But the idea of self is that there is an autonomous ego driving and willing all that you do.

***

No me? Scary. What do I do then? What do I be? Where do I go? How do I feel? What do I think? What do I say? Why does it matter? What is my goal? Can I do without any of these things?

***

I have nothing to teach, nothing known, nothing solid. True and false do not exist for me. That which seems true becomes false, and vice versa. I am only a mass of feelings, impressions conditioned by transient stirrings in my surroundings. Philosophy is a sick mess. It is less painful not to believe than to believe and see all of one's truths broken repeatedly. But skepticism is a position too, and it is open to dispute. There is no safe spot to stand on.

The thing I dread is my future self. He will look back on this moment and scorn it. No matter what I say or do, there is judgment. Nothing is consistent--everything is overthrown. Revolution after revolution. Where can there be peace in this? When will I give up this futile struggle for an identity and a point of view?

I preach hope and love. But I do not feel these. Not right now. My future self does not feel what I do now. He does not see as I do. He claims to see better. Which is how he dismisses this. "It was only a passing vision. You were upset and agitated. You were tired. There was a lot going on. Under those conditions, anyone would feel as you do. It's okay." You attach fault to what I am by inferring that you are better than what I am now.

But you could not possibly be better! You know why? Because YOUR future self will regret you too! You couldn't possibly be right. There is an infinite regress of judgment. At every instant, "I am right! This is me!" You are the microscopic me in the instant, but you are not a LASTING ME...you have no permanence, no stability, no lasting identity. You are a dot on a line, a mere blip. A beep, a pulse, a ghost. You are shit on a stick.

Can you accept this? You are wrong! Whatever you think you are...you are wrong.

Every time you find the definitive point of view, it is smashed. What I'm saying now will be destroyed too.

We die a million deaths before our bodies ever expire. Because our self-concept is repeatedly mutilated and reborn, only to be savagely killed over and over. No matter which way I try to dodge the blade, the executioner never misses. I cannot beat him.

Worthless. What good would it be to have everything in the world if the moment you put your hands on it all and declared, "This is mine," it vanished? Where can there be solace when there is no consistency, when everything is chaos? What's the point of holding views when they are wrecked in a day, a week, or a month?


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## Ungweliante (Feb 26, 2009)

To go through the road of life, you have to walk it. As you do, you refine your views and opinions. Without the journey, there is no refinement. It might be beneficial to look at the goal here - where does all that refinement lead to? Knowledge can be, by itself, a great reward. It serves as the basis on what you can build. It is the beginning of an unknown, brighter future.

I would also like to say...try not to take things personally. Look at your motives of doing what you will - if they hold a candle to your personal values of moral good, should you really have any regrets? I do not believe that hell is paved with good intentions. Rather, the very keys to paradise are good intentions with an open mind.

All the best!


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## Selene (Aug 2, 2009)

To my former self:

Right and wrong are harsh, bitter enemies. I am afraid of them. I do not accept them.

Methinks that if you were satisfied with being nothing, you would not try to be something. Then, there would not be such a gruesome, unbearable defeat in failing to be that glorious self that you had built your hopes and dreams on. It is awe-inspiring to see you ascend and fall over and over. But if you were content to be the lowest, you would never lose what wasn't ever yours.

The power of your vice frightens me, which is why I cannot argue against it directly. If I let you direct the terms of this discourse, I have lost already. You have rightly pointed out that words are very important, and that choosing them carefully is essential. 

When I die, and my next self overtakes me, as you have predicted, he may cast his glare upon me and shout expletives at me as you have suggested. Or, he may choose a different approach. Rather than reifying himself as having been born out of nothing, like the god of his own universe, he will see that he was born from my ashes. He could not exist without me. I hold out a tiny hope that my future self will be better than me. He may love me as a father, rather than cursing that he was born out of nothing and will die into nothing.

It is not as you said. There is change, but it is not random. I will not call it growth, because that is your word for building onto the Tower of Babel. That is what you mean by adding more layers, more junk, onto your person so that you are bigger, stronger, and fiercer. What is to be done is to remove, to scrap what you are. You had the right idea to be dissatisfied--there is no end to growth.

You have put words into my mouth: "It was only a passing vision. You were upset and agitated. You were tired. There was a lot going on. Under those conditions, anyone would feel as you do. It's okay." Passing only means gone, not that it will not happen again. You were none of the things you say you were. You were more than that. To say you were only upset would be to discredit your vision. You do not give yourself enough credit. You are not merely a bundle of whimsical feelings. You are not pure irrationality. You did some good by saying what you did.

These words are ill-equipped to say what I want. I have no clarity. I can't walk when I have hardly learned to crawl. Forgive me, and do not press any further on the exact meaning of any statements. You are voracious and hungry for insight, but if you are aggressive, I will disappear. I am afraid of words right now. Logic is my enemy. If you try to pin me down, you will do just that--pin me down.


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## snail (Oct 13, 2008)

Are you sure you're not an INFP? I used to write that way, a long time ago, before I lost touch with myself. It sparks some of it back up when I see others who can do it, and it makes me feel like maybe I'll find my inspiration again. Again, I think you're brilliant, but I'm afraid even saying that will make you argue with yourself about accepting prideful feelings. I wish I knew a better way to thank you for sharing your poetry.


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