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Originally Posted by cadre
That is karma.
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No, that's hocus pocus bullshit with a squirt of sweaty regret on top. Magic and emotion... the ethereal unicorn farts of our psyches.
These are the lies we tell ourselves because we can't figure out why we have a hole in our heart and we need to believe in something.
It's not a case of half empty or half full... it's case of
it just being there. That's the hard part of the whole thing. The lack of reason and explanation.
My inability to get over certain issues isn't karma, it's me being a psychological worry wart. I don't believe in balance or karma or Jesus or the eight vibrant colors of my Shakra. Justice is a concept that doesn't exist outside of the confines of textbooks and personal feelings. Healing is 50% acceptance and 50% forgetfulness. Additionally, I don't have regrets about some things and yet do about others. Can we pick and choose our magical beliefs or what? Am I allowed to hate my exwife and miss another partner? Am I allowed to be cool with killing flies but not spiders? I don't believe in karma.
Quote:
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Originally Posted by Richard Bachman
...but as Warner Brothers, John D. MacDonald, and Long Island Dragway know so well, there's a Mr. Hyde for every happy Jekyll face, a dark face on the other side of the mirror. The brain behind that face never heard of razors, prayers, or logic of the universe. You turn the mirror sideways and you see your face reflected with a sinister left-hand twist, half mad and half sane. The astronomers call that line between light and dark the terminator.
The other side says that the universe has all the logic of a little kid in a Halloween cowboy suit with his guts and his trick-or-treat candy spread all over a mile of Interstate 95. This is the logic of napalm, paranoia, suitcase bombs carried by happy Arabs, random carcinoma. This logic eats itself. It says life is like a monkey on a stick, it says life spins as hysterically and erratically as the penny you flick to see who buys lunch.
No one looks at that side unless they have to, and I can understand that. You look at it if you hitch a ride of with drunk in a GTO who puts it up to one-ten and starts blubbering about how his wife turned him out; you look at it if some guy decides to drive across Indiana shooting kids on bicycles; you look at it if your sister says: "I'm going down to the store for a minute, big guy" and then gets killed in a stick-up. You look at it when you hear your dad talking about slitting your mom's nose.
It's a roulette wheel, but anybody who says the game is rigged is whining. No matter how many numbers there are, the principle of the little white jittering ball never changes. Don't say it's crazy. It's all so cool and sane...
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You can't "pay it back" and "paying it forward" misses the point. There is no compensation. There is no justice. An everyman's religion.
It's my belief that people are confused meat driven by chemical reactions with the burden of fantastic memory and the hurdle of a long history.
Instead of swinging like a pendulum from being a total dick to being a manic saint, just be a 1% better person.
We are what we do is... well...
It is what it is. Whatever the hell
that is.