there is one thing

in my view

that is Forbidden.

I forbid it

in myself

and know

once the hatch

is broken

there will be

no going back in--

even writing here

in mere description

would seem

to broach on the

indecent,

as a crack

in the sealing--

a giving arms and legs

to an illegitimate

feeling.

I speak ---shhhh!

in crass whispers

of the Enjoyment...

of another's

suffering.

12.30.2023

Write the Forbidden challenge @AJAY9979

I wonder, if I had known back then, would I still be captivated?

Would I still want to know her better, would I still savor the sound of her name?

If I had known back then, would I still long for her attention, for her affection? Would I still cherish every moment spent together?

If I had known back then, would I still crave her touch, her sweet and soft embrace?

Would I still confess to her my feelings?

If I had known back then, would I still kiss her? Would I still rid her of her clothes, caress her soft, angelic skin?

Would I still let her slide inside me, would I still put my mouth between her hips?

I wonder, would I change anything at all...

If I had known how close we actually were?

As all of us walk in the blossoms of sunlight, those two young men ahead brim with love for each other and through which they see the world as if anew, so much so that they laugh with wonder at the rain. Oh they both believe in separate ways that humanity has curled in on itself, because petrol is drying up and money is in closed fists and doctors are left to die when they treat patients on the wrong side of the war. Things won’t last, it’s in the air and billboards and adverts and secrets and plane tickets and the broken weeping shoes on all those feet you never see. Yet the promise of collapse has made our two dear friends into hedonists in the simplest of ways. Hear what they said in the face of it all, those young people ahead who delighted in the weather—of all things!—they said: I will love I will love I will love. And they did.

There is no solution to the problem that in any complex social system, those who cheat and game the system for their own ends always win. They become leaders, because they have no scruples about using others. They may understand the ideals which originally fueled some systems, but only in such a way as to recognize these ideas' utility in winning credulous (and in their view, naive and expendable) followers; "useful idiots" as the Russians call them. Such cheaters look with cynicism and disgust on those whose ideals involve the welfare of others or lack immediate self-interest. I used to believe that the weight of planned bureaucracy and the intricacy of law and precedent would protect the original meaning, purpose and function of complex social systems, but this belief is becoming increasingly threadbare.

Forebode the forbidden

And the roads overridden

When backbreaking trysts

Risk spinal discs

Fine print's for the old

Not the young and the bold

'Cause actuation ain't wrote

Via annotated footnotes

Eat yourself selfish

Despite allergic shellfish

Do what you want

And delight in the brunt

You'll did till you din't

Then you'll see the fine prin't

Tread in new membership

Following disclaimers of asterisk

When the tally is toted

Your injuries are noted

Science pays the best prices

For the bodies left them sans vices

They say in certain "memes" on social media that we all crave that bag of shredded cheese at 3AM. But what is a meme? And what is it to really crave something?

Before Louis C.K. got cancelled, I posted on social media an image of him with words over it, his words: "When a person tells you that you hurt them, you don't get to decide that you didn't."

I thought about my life with that quote, reflected on my past. In one image, I had a reason to think about things outside of myself.

I know, you're thinking. Welcome to the internet.

But isn't it crazy, that one image on the internet can summarize all my problems in one easy, digestible square of pixels?

But memes are also pointless. They're catty, or stupid, or not funny. They are why we are addicted to social media. Or, for most people, maybe. That little square that can get you to laugh, or think, or in the case of "Happy New Year 2024", make you think a quote can change your year, your life, your mindset.

I don't eat shredded cheese out of the bag at 3AM. But what is depicted in that meme is something else - a certain despair, coming across as humor. Which is of course what memes are - their entire point.

Perhaps they are the mindset, the mantra, of the Millennial generation.

Their entire point is to keep you addicted, so you keep reopening the same three social media apps over and over until you yourself become what you sought to avoid: being just like everyone else.

And, just maybe, that could be a meme in and of itself.

In this post, I intent to reflect on a theme that is a little taboo in our current society. Let me be clear, this is not a personal attack against any person or group of people. These are some of my reflections upon the state of society and the world. If this does offend you, perhaps you should question why, and reflect on that too. With that out of the way, let's begin with a thought experiment.

Imagine you are a child, this should not be too hard, as we were all once children. Now imagine you go to visit a friend. On top of their fridge, out of your reach, is a cookie jar. If you are normally a well-behaved child, you will probably not think too much more of it. The jar is out of your reach, therefore it is not for you. On the other hand, perhaps you are a bit of a naughty child. Maybe you would try to reach the jar to grab a cookie, despite it being placed out of your reach.

Now, imagine an adult comes in and tells you that it is normal to think about stealing cookies, and you shouldn't be worried about it. Let us consider what happens next, if you are naughty child, even though the adult did not actually give you permission to steal a cookie, this is probably the way you will interpret their words. The adult will probably also have little sympathy for you if the cookie jar turns out to be full of pickles. On the other hand, if you are a good child, the idea of stealing cookies may not have occurred to you, and thus a seed has been planted of something you might never have otherwise done.

Perhaps you can already see where I am going with this. I am aware that there are numerous ways in which this analogy breaks down, just as any analogy does. Please hear me out.

First some context. These days we are very concerned about mental health. This is generally a good thing. We are worried about the number the number of young people committing self-harm or suicide. We are asking how we can help them open up, be themselves, and feel secure. This is good. But perhaps some of our efforts have gone astray.

We tell our children at a younger and younger age that they have choice. Choice is good. But what about too much choice? Have you ever been to a restaurant where the menu was a 30-page book? Does it feel overwhelming, too hard to read all the options, let alone choose? We tell our children that they are not defined by their family, or their race, or their gender, or a bunch of other things. While these are all true, perhaps we should be encouraging them to discover these principles themselves, rather than force-feeding them to everyone. Perhaps our young people are getting lost among the choices we thrust upon them before they are mature enough to choose. Perhaps we should encourage them to break the molds placed around them, rather than open the mold while the cast is still molten and let it run.

Remember when Pandora opened the box and released all evils that one thing remained inside? Hope, that's right. I know what you are going to say: That teaches us that there's a silver lining, sun shines after rain, etc. I thought so as well. Until recently.

But, what if hope is a bad thing?

Do you recall that toy you never got, the one you were dreaming of when you were a kid?

You were hoping you would get it? Until…you grew up.

Do you call to mind your first teenage love? It wasn't mutual, was it? Were you hoping that the addressee of your love would ever notice you?

Don't answer, I know what the answer is.

How about adulthood? The first death of a family member, especially if you were with them in their last days, watching them agonizing, knowing that you can't do anything to help them? You were hoping for a miracle, right? Did it happen?

Hope, most of the time, has no logical explanation. Your hope is based on your inability to handle your strong emotions, or a difficult situation, or your life. Hope gives you something to live for, but when the cruel future slaps you on the face, it gets even more painful. Hope is killing you little by little, eating your soul bit by bit, scarring your heart, taking away all the sense you find in your pitiful life.

Don't agree?

Let's hope I am wrong.

The house was always silent and so I

sought refuge from solitude in drawing.

Art allowed agency, it was my way

to delve deep inside my own true being

since you would not be with me. I gained skill

but then you vetoed art – I must do French;

I read indiscriminately to fill

the vacuum left once I quit my work bench

and grew cultured to develop my mind

but then my complex thinking you’d dismiss –

again my self’s agency you’d rescind

though it was you who forced me to be this.

Fathers, encourage your sons lest they

finish up allied with your enemy.