Random Notions
Some random notions that have come to the fore as a result of comments, events and other factors:
I am frequently surprised. One would think I should be beyond surprise, but one would be wrong. One would think I would be coolly in control of my emotions, having had so very long to come to an intimate understanding of my own inner landscape, but one would be wrong. One would think that thirty-five centuries would smooth the contradictions from the fabric of my soul, and one would be wrong yet again.
It seems some are convinced that one such as I should be either above human foibles, or incapable of them. They are wrong. There are those who insist that one such as I must view all those about her as nothing more than mayflies, lesser things to be used for amusement and hardly missed upon passing. I would ask them how they have come to such an understanding, and I would tell them their assumptions speak volumes regarding their own private demons, but they say nothing regarding mine.
I protect myself. I protect those I consider to be my friends. Those people are few and thus precious to me.
I am immortal, not indestructible.
I am often asked if I am bored and I always reply in the negative. Boredom is not the problem I face, and no one seems to be inclined to ask regarding what that problem may be. I understand this since it is likely unique in the acuteness of its manifestation with me; however, I still see it in others from time to time. It is not loneliness. When I become aware of the weight of ages upon me, what I feel is desperately tired.
Thirty-five centuries have taught me useful things, but not so many as some seem to insist must be the case.
I understand people- my ability to interact on a personal level borders on the telepathic. This is not some mystic ability, but the simple byproduct of millennia of experience. It is an ability that is limited to personal, face-to-face, situations. This also makes me a rather entertaining bedmate.
Conversing via the written word is an extraordinarily poor cousin to personal interaction. At the same time it offers a separate set of tools, and a different level of nuance that cannot be dismissed.
I am merciless in self-analysis- my ability to delude myself is limited, but when I indulge it the results are usually disastrous. I take no pity upon myself, for I posses the ability to outlive my errors. Others do not.
I understand that nothing ever really ends. Everything that has preceded this moment in time forms the foundation upon which the next moment must stand.
I have noted before that I view myself as primarily a destructive force in relation to those with whom I interact. There are those who disagree with me. They lack my perspective on this subject. This extends to this journal: every post I make, every comment left on any site constitutes an act of almost criminal selfishness on my part.
I never share everything with you. Never.
There is more to say. I choose not to say it.
Posted on November 25th, 2003 by Zsallia
Filed under: Immortality
The following comments are as they first appeared on the original BlogSpot/Haloscan system: –ZM
“This extends to this journal: every post I make, every comment left on any site constitutes an act of almost criminal selfishness on my part.”
So why do you not extend this truth to everyone?
Knowledge is pain. Pain is absolutele necessary for growth – both as a species and as an individual.
Every word we spoke has the risk of being the camel’s straw that unleashes a destructive force on others. Every attempt to learn, or to share, or connect, or to teach carries within it arrogance, hubris, and necessity.
Your tone, albeit unintentional, is that of a too-protective mother. People need growth to learn. Don’t they have a choice in the matter? What you call destructive, perhaps they see as merely as clearing away the clutter.
There is also a vast gulf between knowing you and discussing your condition. None of us know you – we know the blog. It would take a great fool to assume you are everything on these pages and nothing more.
TheYeti | Email | Homepage | 11.26.03 – 6:58 am | #
If one is limited to only interaction with lowly mortals or interaction with no one at all, it is horribly obvious that you would never let yourself evolve beyond wanting or needing the enrichment that us dying human beings bring you. It’s no surprise that you underestimate us and overestimate yourself… otherwise you’d probably go insane. The healthy mind creates what it needs to keep itself content, even if that means limiting itself to, and creating for itself, the silly foibles of what surrounds it.
Travis | Email | Homepage | 11.27.03 – 9:27 pm | #
I am no longer amazed at the insight of these two gentlemen. Instead, I simply nod, and then write.
I fail to see how the quote above is unique to you. Even in my most alturistic moments, and altruism is a trait I nurture carefully, I realize in retrospect that anything I write is a selfish act. I have written poems for people that have brought them from the brink of despair, and given away anonymous work for charitible purposes, but I have never written something and looked at the act of writing it as something from which I receive no gain. How much more so with the unburdening of the mind? Mr. Hayduke and The Yeti, I’m sure, will readily admit to the same. I think, in fact, that there may be nothing that one can do that has no selfish motive. Even if someone were to throw a grenade through the window, and I were to throw myself on top of it, I would receive the momentary pleasure of knowing that I have done something to spare the life of another. And as that was the motiv
Mr. E. | Email | Homepage | 11.28.03 – 4:32 am | #
To summarize the parts of my rambling that you all would no doubt have slept through anyway:
The motivation for your writing may be selfish. I don’t see that it could be otherwise. That fact does not diminish the benefit I derive from reading your writing.
Additionally, I don’t think a gift for regeneration excludes one from humanity, and doesn’t even really make one superior. I might even label it a disability, as it seems to have prevented you from participating in certain aspects of life.
Mr. E. | Email | Homepage | 11.28.03 – 4:47 am | #
There was a period of time when I was delving ruthlessly into people’s motives. In that time, I came to believe that there was no such thing as a motive not rooted in self-interest. I perceived even altruism as being solidly rooted in self-interest. I’ve since drifted a bit away from that belief, but I still haven’t found any counter-examples.
Dishman | Email | Homepage | 11.29.03 – 5:05 am | #
Yeah yeah, hey lady! You’re the nicest immortal I know except a woman in Hungary I’ve told you about. You’ve got me beat when it comes to being nice.
Loren | Email | Homepage | 12.06.03 – 7:45 pm | #