Monday, November 2, 2009

Knowledge is Sour

I'm writing this because I'm angry, quite angry. I hate my generation. In essence I hate myself. It's not the kind of hate that fuels wars, nor the sort of hate that drives to kill. I hate with a slow and burning ember, one which roasts over time, broils the skin from muscle and chars the flesh from bone. All that follows is not the rage of a warrior, but the rage of a writer, a man who, through giving up weaponry finds sterner ways of assault. Through relinquishing cold steel may we find that which feeds the forge that created it, bitter, bitter strength through intelligence.


Ever recall times which you found those around you incompetent? If not, I suggest you walk away. For those who have, know you are plentiful. To realize that you are involved with those of little expressed intelligence, is to find yourself to be almost among animals. It's a truly sad thought to wake up and find that you can't handle being with those you have deemed unworthy by sudden realization. In that way knowledge is burdening, for to know such things is to be alone with only your own thoughts. Knowledge is sour.

In the height of knowledge, we can only ever realize that those around us are lacking, but even in the discovery of someone alike in us serves only to create friction, not bond. With friction there will come action and with threat will come reaction, only to be expected with other people. Even after knowledge, there is still only human emotion and human limit. With humanity comes fealty, which is perceived as weakness. Weakness of heart and mind, such things are of concern, for with knowledge you must have the ability to protect it and the ability to refuse fealty. In doing so you must refuse emotion, to be stoic against the tides. With stoicism comes freedom.


To hell with togetherness, individualism is what America should have in ideal.

Matthias, out.

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