Thoughts of an Anarchist

And my two-pounds worth on the subject. 

So, I’m confused today. This week. These past few weeks. Had a huge conversation with Loup last night about the reason, and he’s the primary reader of the blog, so I don’t (need-feellike-thinkican-want) to go through it again. Suffice to say, I’m feeling reflective, angry, needy and distressed. Hardly pleasant characteristics. ANYWAY.

The long and the short of it is, he told me to do a nice ‘bollocking anarchy-filled blog’, and I am left with possibly not enough and possibly too much to blog about. I thought of many things. Settled on this, and you may as well too, because you’re in for a bumpy ride. However, you do have a choice.

“There is always a choice.”
“You mean I could choose certain death?”
“A choice nevertheless, or perhaps an alternative. You see, I believe in freedom. Not many people do, although they will of course protest otherwise. And no practical definition of freedom would be complete without the freedom to take the consequences. Indeed, it is the freedom upon which all the other are based.”

Freedom. It is such a terrifying word. Don’t you just quake in your boots at the prospect of being totally free, really free? There is a reason why, when you take a domesticated animal to the wild, it turns round again. Not because it knows nothing else, or wants the comforts of home. Because there’s a whole world out there, and it’s big, and it’s all open to you. 

I mean, think about it. How much have you seen? When you think about travelling a long distance, how long is long to you? (down, boy.) Wiltshire to Hastings is far too long for me, and England to Japan was hell. And what is adventure? Bungee jumping? Rollercoasters? No, adventure and freedom go hand in hand with that most delightful of experiences, TERROR.

Hang on, you say, but I’m terrified of rollercoasters. I hate heights. I’m a wimp. I’m scared. I’m a coward. I KNOW TRUE TERROR. 

Bullshit.

There are few people in this world who know true terror. With terror, you are too busy experiencing it, living it, to reflect or think or wonder about it. You feel raw emotion. True emotion. And it’s overpowering. Your brain can’t function with this emotion taking over your everything. Cowardice is just another word for some form of bravery. The bravery to admit that you’re scared.

 ”Courage isn’t just a matter of not being frightened. It’s being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway.”

Too many people go their whole lives and never feel a second of raw emotion. Too many people feel sheltered emotions, which seem real, which when they think on it is so real, so impossibly real, that how can she be saying it isn’t? But it is that moment of realisation that makes it false. Not everyone, of course. I don’t think I have, but then, how can I know? This is just a theory.

Real pain. Real hatred. Real anger. Real terror. Real happiness.

Why? Because to experience reality, we must first have the freedom to do so. And freedom requires making that choice. Whilst we have no freedom in society, those who blame society forget that they themselves are part of that society, and contribute to it:

 so·ci·e·ty 
n. pl. so·ci·e·ties

1. 1. The totality of social relationships among humans.
   2. The institutions and culture of a distinct self-perpetuating group.

Ergo, society as we percieve it could not exist without us, the humans, the people of the world encompassed in the society, to control it and create it and keep it running.

Freedom requires choice, the ability to make that choice, and choosing to make that choice. And we prefer subconciously, however much we may crave and desire ‘freedom’, to think, to have our lives planned out, to dream, to be human. Whilst we are human we can never truly be free, for we will always strive for something more. It is our nature. And freedom is that point when we need nothing more. Because we are free.

It is our blessing and our curse.

Incidentally, the one emotion I believe is felt by most people truly and really is love, and that’s because I don’t percieve love to be an emotion. But that’s a story for another time. 

For now, I want to sit and feel my false reality, and drink a mug of tea. Cause I’m not brave enough to feel real emotion yet. And I don’t think you are, either.

Thoughts?

Abs x