Mortality, and the thoughts that lead there

Thinking is dangerous. For everyone. There is a quote, no idea where it comes from, saying that people are stupid. I agree with this, to a point. People, as a whole, are stupid. The cliche that people are nothing more than sheep is quite accurate, doing nothing more than just following what their peers do, never actually thinking for themselves. In certain instances, at least. A person, on the other hand, well, that's a whole new ball of wax. A person, given the motivation, given the reason, can be quite intelligent. That intelligence can lead to bad things. Very bad things, indeed.

I have been lost in thought, for most of my life, to be honest. But lately, it's been something more. I have been thinking about my place in this world, where my life fits in, what I contribute, not only to myself and those around me, but to the global society. Through my long thought process, I come up lacking ANY grand scheme. I contribute nothing. Yes, I have a job, and my job facilitates the needs of others, but that's a job, not a reason for my life. I have family, but there are better examples of family all around me, and yes, I know there are worse examples, but I don't hold them to be my equal or better, and I don't validate that as a reason to call my own family a good one, and example for others. I have a son. This is the closest I can come to having a purpose. But realistically, because of my shortcomings, I see myself as a hindrance to him, not a mentor. And, through my "corrupted" thought process, I would find it hypocritical to ask of him to learn from my mistakes. I also have no desire for him to follow my path in life. So, once again, I am left with no purpose.

This thought process has led me to the idealism of friendship. I don't know how, it just has. I have many that, up to this point, I considered to be friends. Now, the collective whole of the group have done nothing wrong, have done nothing to sway my thoughts towards where they are now. That was all me. What do I consider a friendship? I thought, to myself, that a friend would be a person that I could rely on, that I could talk to, that I could listen too, a person whose life was better because I was in it. A pretty good definition of a friend, in my opinion. But an incorrect one, as well. Sure, it's true to a point, but those are really just surface things. A friend, in MY reality, is someone to use. The more I can use them, the better a friend they are. I think that this is probably a very true statement for more than are willing to admit it.

I stumble upon this thought process because of resentment. I began to resent my friends, because of the things they acquired, the way that they though, the way they interacted with others. I resented them because I was not in control of certain things. I believe that this showed me that I was not in control of things in my own life, perhaps causing fear, sadness, loneliness. I'm honestly not sure. I couldn't rely on my "friends" anymore, for whatever reason. I couldn't rely on myself, either. Now it has become a game, of sorts, because I was still not aware of the thoughts that would present themselves. How to keep up the facade of being a friend, while not actually being a friend. And how to ignore the feeling that something was wrong.

Wrong. That's a pretty heavy word. It implies that something could be right, but isn't. I guess a better way to say that would be that something was going counter-intuitively to the way that others might think it should go. Either way, something wasn't sitting right with me. Throughout my life, I have used those nearest to me, for whatever gain might be there. Money, rides, places to sleep, food, or just so feed my own self worth. I was blatant, stupidly so, about the way I used to do things. As I evolved, I began to be more subversive, more for my ego than anything else, for I could provide for all of my other essential needs. I would do things for people, seemingly out of kindness, even to myself for that reason. Upon reflection, it would be to establish a sort of dominance, to make myself better, to diminish other peoples perception of their own self worth. I would help people, and in return, they would know that I was better than they were. I became very, very good at this. I could manipulate any situation I wanted too. I could control anyone.

Except myself. There was not a shred of inner decency, no morality, no remorse. There was nothing to live for other than the acceptance of the people around me. And I was fine with that, because I didn't know it. And for the most part, nothing has changed, in all these years, except enlightenment. I now know, or at least think I do, why I do the things I do, say the things I say. It's to show my own lack of self worth to me. To finally open my eyes to the fact: I am not a good person. I am the worst kind of evil, and yes, evil is the appropriate word. There is definitely a standard of social morality, and I not only fail to meet it, I fail to acknowledge it. There is no higher purpose for me. There is nothing that I give to others that they can't get themselves, other than pain, grief, and suffering. And, in a last effort to show any sort of humanity at all, under no circumstances have I ever wanted to be referred to as a baseline for rock bottom. There is no feasible solution for fixing what others would consider wrong. There is nothing.

As I began, so I finish. Thoughts are dangerous, and can lead to very bad places. The worst place of all, in fact. Your thought, as mine have, can lead you to yourself, and show you just how much you don't mean. Even to you.