What sense of entertainment do people get from unintentionally criticizing others? This is a new age that can be compared to a previous one which can be described by our elders and our imagination as a social wonderland without a society based on ridicule.
The last thing people want to believe is that the criminals and “bad people” die later than the “good people”, but this visually seems like less than it is. Bad people could simply be the ones who don’t meet an interesting or intriguing standard, or it could be those who act upon immortality and hope to obtain a negative reaction from people.
These realizations cannot be accidental. Maybe a select people are inclined to see the world as it really is why the others cope with it and drive themselves to success. The latter doesn’t need to complain considering their circumstances could be as revolting as four trucks full of money or a real lover that isn’t paid on the hour for her passionate services.
However interested in this topic as people make them self seem, it makes not one difference to how they live unless they drop all links to the corrupt world and visualize a world without all this physical bullshit that they feel the need to rely on. If we only focused on the pros of a peaceful yet diverse world, we could weigh out the cons with a positive and harmless outlook.
Artists, writers, and musicians all have an advantage over a social abider in that they cope with the world’s central placement by expressing their own opinion with talent, skill, talent, or all listed. In a less than natural sense, writers are the greatest humans to abide with our world.
It is impossible for someone who lives descriptive literature to overlook such classic notions like the romantics, the Victorians, the old age writers, and some modern writers even. They are all significant because they all match the feel of their generation. Why a writer would ever give in to this country’s drowning out of their passion for writing about the real state of the world is questionable.
If only noticing and thinking and talking about local and nationwide issues wasn’t a social crime. The people who look down upon others with an opinion are so narrow minded that their opinion is literally the only one that is heard in their head. There are many who even compose their “lively” dialogue with nothing but how they buy into their own bullshit.
It really is not such a crime to care about yourself; that is a modern standard that is easy to act upon and somehow gets us further in our activities. There is, however, a point of time when people need to realize the true negative tone that others may be withstanding. That is a truly divine and wonderful way of living.
If you have a problem caring for people and empathizing with them, is it even plausible to say you are living as fulfilling as you are or want to? Unless you’re a killer or a greedy lover of physical cons, there’s no goddamn way. The one difficult part in the scheme of this outlook is that its hard to be less than deeply rejected by society for thinking more about what other people care about.
Like the Bible, the school house, the workplace, and the justified family conversations, there are many controversial contradictions to such a vast and improvised opinion of a good heart. You don’t ever need to base your whole life around the contention of the world because this world will never know what it needs to be completely satisfied. In the same recognizable sense, there can’t be one thing wrong with helping someone whose desires are driven by a healthy mindset. That is little to ask, less to accomplish, and completely unoriginal.
Places to see
#7 - Dubai, the United Arab Emirates
1. Burj Al Arab, a 5 star luxury hotel (It’s frequently described as the world’s only 7 star hotel, but it’s a lie…)
2. Burj Khalifa, the tallest man-made structure in the world at 829.8 metres (that’s almost one kilometre!! It takes 36 workers about three to four months to clean all the windows)
3. Dubai Miracle Garden, the world’s largest flower garden (they sure like being the biggest. Also, this garden is located in the not-yet-complete “Dubailand” - a gigantic entertainment complex, which is supposed to also hold a Six Flags and a Legoland!)
4. Dubai Dolphinarium (dolphins everywhere!! :D)
5. Underwater hotel
I have almost never felt summoned by any living person or inanimate thing to be a part of them or their partaking. It must really be a luxury. I look at many happy people and wonder how they manage it. Or I hear songs in restaurants or other public places about how happy the world is or how wonderful everything that exists is and I wonder how that is. Happiness must be earned or derived. I think it’s possible to have any feeling in the world as long as you want that feeling or know how that feeling works. I have never known how happiness works; I have only attempted happiness and I suck at it. As long as I can prove to myself that it is a real attribute/enjoyment, I could be happy. But I have no inner way of proving that, nor do I necessarily need to seek evidence for such an idea. The idea of living like schmucks like in Goodfellas who work shitty jobs for a living and live a normal, expected life is not even an idea anymore. It’s become so regular that people accept it. I don’t exactly want to accept that I’ll become nobody, but I don’t want to be who other people think I am. What I say and do doesn’t describe me a bit. My mind and my routines are two different “routes”.
I could tell a girl that her life is failure or punch a kid in the stomache and call him a loser if it fulfills the moment. But life seems to only be a streak of moments and the mind is lessened/darkened in display. Why the fuck is this?
Why the fuck do my actions contradict how I feel and care for humans? My love and hope for peoples best interests and accomplishments/achievements is beyond comprehension. I don’t even care if people take advantage of me, as long as they know they are doing it and can help me think I’m a part of their life, even if it’s as minor as a movie role for a debut actor in an independent film, and that can be pretty goddamn minor.
But the real question behind my entry is definitely and only “What is happiness?” That is a personal question and only I can solve it. Not that it needs solving or whatever. I lived as a depressant off medication for years, took medication, and still was wondering the same question after I realized that drugging myself wasn’t helping a damn thing.
I don’t know. Maybe I need someone to care. Maybe I just need someone to pretend to care, and not even care. I haven’t felt important, and I set myself up to be frowned upon. I can and can’t be helped.
But then again I can’t force a single thing on this planet to love me. And that’s fine.