A selective empathetic is a more sinister evil than the outright unempathetic. The unempathetic is quite small in numbers, and are under more scrutiny. The selective empathetic is one of reflective desire, picking and choosing those to be glad for and wishing to prosper based off of desired personal gain, gain that involves putting others down in the process. This level of empathy is pure submission to outside preachers, outside systems, media, literature, art, and economics, and represents a dark and fallible inner sense. Letting things simply happen, apathetic to their greater truth, nihilistic in meaning, and a walking product of guiding forces around them. A pure empathetic is empathetic to all in all situations, noticing the humanity in all. It is sad to notice the selective empathetic being a prevalent and lauded endeavor, when the qualities of such selective empathetic are thought of also as manipulation. A great contradiction in social morality and personal character judgeme
I know, being the one who lives through it, just how rough it is to be me. To experience life with the attitude I experience it with is not easily replicable, and will be a unique want.
There's been a constant fight throughout time; all fights are rooted through pure ignorance. Ignorance is found in this ragged body of myself, it is ingrained in its abstraction. Ignorance is my fortay for being myself, and my ignorance lies in places no one else knows besides myself. One piece of ignorance is consistent across the brains of all: experiencing what others experience.
My empathy seems to have been dawned in tragedy, tragedy has gained me insight in pure harm. Extreme joy has displaced my actions, reacting aggressively towards unknowers of my reign, it has made me dense, because if I feel it is okay, then it is.
With culture comes flaunt. Grouping individuals together will make them come up with crazy, experimental why's they should stick together, or have sex a certain way, or make music to experience. Any excuse to have fun I believe, any excuse to live. Living doesn't have a purpose unless we mount life's absurd self. Living is just what life wants us to do, it is the life we want right? Maybe the earth wants us to eat oddly organized atoms so that we can rearrange other atoms in our gastrointestinal atoms.
It's peculiar how these ideas manifest in our knowledge, and at the same time our emotions seem to disregard this very essence of existence in which things are just stupid.
Cultures and workplaces and weird religious doctrine will teach us that owning up to an orderly manner and orderly fashion will show intelligence, strength, understanding and discipline. This is just the beginning of universal ignorance. Let's make sure what we want is what others think is ordered, because we know that that's how things work. I sit here looking at my emotions on my tattered shoes created through a sweat shop so I can walk a few feet to work every morning, so I can keep my feet clean, and I see how rooted in pain and in craziness and in mania these tattered shoes I have on have gone through, and not just what I've been through with them. They are me losing money, and they are me not getting money, because money is the one thing that shows your character in our minds, money is what makes you a stylish, complete person.
Imagine my imagination imagining yours, and you will see how different light comes on between our perception of this idiotic oversimplified abstraction of reality. We will clash if we do not agree, and our disagreements will become political violence for all to witness with keen eyes. And their minds will separate ideas based off of what each one of our distant small roomed brains have decided, and then they will influence their buddies to think on some extremity.
It's crazy how not different everyone is from one another, and how we stupidly make the judgement that we are while simultaneously dying from just being alive.
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