This World

Okay...this is a random journal that I hope will contain something in the semblance of sense. The wonderful thing about this journal is that it should not officially be happening. It's a strange feeling, and would be wonderful under different circumstances. I find myself in a certain dilemma. I'm losing whatever faith I've ever had in this world. The feelings that remain within me for the people and things residing in this world are now reduced to habit and impulse. I no longer feel anything because of any true or meaningful affection. I now have doubts in all of the times that I ever did. This sounds so terribly cliche. I feel like a fool saying it. The people that I care about...I can only see certain aspects of them. I do care about them, but there is an urgency to it, and a desperation. I find it much preferable not to think at all. I am weak. I am so repulsed by the people around me. This world is beautiful, but not the world that has anything to do with thought. The world that has everything to do with sight, taste, sound, smell, and, of course, touch. The small tiny fraction of this world that has nothing to do with my despicable race that has raped every other corner of it. I often wonder how much we have truly destroyed this world. There could be a whole other aspect of our destruction that we are simply incapable of understanding. We are, after all, creatures solely of our own dimension. And yet, by our actions, isn't it foolish to say that the only dimension we are affecting is our own? Our very thought patterns are waves that are undetectable by normal means, and small by all known measurements, but could they not be something more than we know? All of our electronics and our passions. All of our construction and deconstruction, all of our consuming and recycling. What do we know of what we are doing? 100's of years from now, we will be to the people of that time, what the cavemen are to us. Fools and idiots. Or, perhaps just the opposite will be true. Perhaps we will slowly disintegrate into our own stupidity until we are nothing more than cavemen, only to build ourselves back up again. This likely seems all terribly cynical and perhaps dramatic, but it torments me. If there was some way to simply stop every single action in this world that every single person is doing in this single instant, and in that instant, impart into every single person a certain knowledge... I know not what the 'right' knowledge is. I don't think anyone knows, or that there even is such a thing. But that knowledge in itself is one step closer to something that might at least be better. Perhaps then, all of these big companies and factories will worry about something other than profit and stocks. Perhaps the people of this world will come to some sort of understanding with the rest of this world that has only a discordant existence thanks to our actions. Perhaps we might somehow find a way to live in harmony with everything around us, instead of at odds with every little minute detail... But of course, these are all 'perhap's', and, of course, such an event can never actually occur, and would go against so much of what so many people would probably risk their lives for that it would go against whatever purpose I might've had in the first place... And with that, I find that I have lost all purpose and desire for writing. For this world truly holds little hope for one such as myself.