Monday, April 15, 2013

O glorious Rome.

Stuck. Sitting here in this airport. Stuck. The sun is burning my already burned face and I’m reading my completely LOVELY biology notes. People next to me have the benefit of enjoying the juicy Italian tomatoes with some freaking amazing mozzarella. Mind sharing some? No thanks, I’m rather trying to listen to basshunter and occasionally enjoy my own benefit of listening to it from both headphones, as one is refusing to obey my commands.
Are you Ready?
I am.
I’ve been ready since I hopped off that f# plane and raced off all the pizza and pasta that I’ve been continuously stuffing myself with since I arrived on Wednesday. I could almost feel the alpha cells in my pancreas releasing glycagon which makes glucagen turn into glucose so i can run faster. Yes, I had my Biolgoy notes open on blood glucose levels while writing this line. Now however the beta cells in the pancrease are producing insulin as im going to store glucose as glucogen!! Hopefully I’m a healthy person and my hypothalamus works well.. To be honest, I don’t care what my body is doing, all I can feel is a flow of fury being pumped through my body while slowly relasing the torment of wainting. I think I forgot to mention –the freaking battery of my laptop is decreasing with even greater rate than the outer calmness I’m displaying in order to appear sane.
All around me. Have you ever noticed how many people smoke? Sitting here and trying to enjoy the burning feeling of Vitamin D entering my body, makes me more noticeable of the smell of cigarettes enlightening all around me. Constantly inhaling nicotine. As consumers do. I just consumed a airplane ticket which took away all my savings. Not through my own will. Though…wait a second.. I voluntarily gave up my money..while it felt so much involuntary. Everything appears voluntary on the outside, while barely anything really is. The appearance of the richness of choices. The appearance that we are using a fancy, good quality Lancome cosmetic product while we it’s exactly the same as the 20 pounds cheaper product of Loreal. They are the same company as I found out recently. The same composition. The same factory. How much choice do we actually have? None. However much id like to think that those people inhaling nicotine so eagerly do have a choice… they don't. Though they could choose not to, that seems like a choice. The closest to the concept of choice we have. But the addiction is.. too addictive. Does it even matter? Maybe. But might as well not. Even when the amount of waste in your body accumulates- one cigarette here or there doesn't seem to matter. Or does it? WE may feel it when we observe the change in long term, but it still doesn't make much difference.. right?
Time is just a type of perception. A conceiving, but a compelling one. A perception we are obsessed with. Does it matter that I missed my flight and will arrive in Oxford a few hours late? No. It will not change the fact that I wont have the key to my room as I managed to forget it home. Does the extra few hundred euros count? However I’d want the answer to be yes… It is still an ugly no. Even when I’d create an illusion and think that there must be so muuuch I could have bought with it. A new pair of jeans maybe, 2-3 pairs of shoes that run out as they all seem to not like my accompany and leave me as soon as I’ve laid my feet on the ground for a few times. The ugly truth is that this money would have probably been spent on useless things-food, transport, lame entertainment.
A new pair of jeans that would increase my level of happiness sfor a few days and then diminish as it fluctuates back to its normal range? Luckily my normal range is quite high up,so a pair of jeans and shoes wouldn't make too much of a difference. However, I would have been happier by donating this money to the charity. But even this wouldn't go to the right place. Half of it would mystically disappear in between, back to the pockets of people who will then GREATLY use it for the GREAT purpose of buying their daughter a fancy pair of jeans. It’s an never ending circle. Of course I’m being cynical. Perhaps too cynical. This is highly influenced by my current emotional state labelled as “stuck in a airport”. Sure there are good people in this world. We all consider ourselves averagely good. At least all we want do is good. OAnd is it bad that this disgustingly rich bastard is buying his daughter a posh pair of jeans? I nthe end, it would make this girl HAPPY. The magical happiness. It would make this girl happy for a little while until she throws them away, not even considering donating them to an orphanage where a child would be happier than just a fraction of a day. Or is she afraid that the jeans would mystically disappear in the way to the orphanage? Such a paradox..
Well it is all a question of morality. I, as a average good person or so I like to think, would expect the donated money to go to the purpose I was giving it to. I would expect an African child to actually get her stomach full in the end of the day or the elimination of the holes in the roof that let the pouring rain through that keep her awake the whole night. Irony…It would actually be nice if it would rain in Africa, right? According to the stereotype or knowledge that I think I own. They would probably do a proper happy dance that its raining and the almighty god has provided a passage for water to come straight to their home. However, what I wanted to say is that the donated money should go to the right palce and that would be truly a great purpose for it. Better than a pair of jeans with a label on them. UUU, a label. We are all labelled. Constatly. I’m typing on my IPHONE at the moment. What a little spoiled child writing about naive wishes for people to be less selfish. Do I feel guilty for having a phone while sunbathing and complaining about my missed flight? What a first world kid. Even her pessimism is gone, as she replaced the “burning hurting sun” with “ sunbathing”. So do I feel guilty? Perhaps I should, but the reality is different. We all have our paths in this life and its all covered with labels. “A child, student, youngster, elderly” are the more general ones. Spoiled little girl typing on her iphone the pointless crap while her deepest wish would be to grab that mozzarella and a few tomatoes from the person sincerely enjoying them next to her. I would not call my self spoiled. I don't even appear spoiled, not even talking about being  labelled in such way.

However much I would want to, and I cant see why I would want to feel a feeling like that, I do not feel guilty. Difficulties come in different shapes and forms and are always offered in life, rarely on golden plates. True, the condition of my phone isn’t a problem, good education or travelling isn’t a problem. It’s always the magnificent mind that makes up the problems we seem to face. The almighty mind keeps pulling everyones leg. No ones untouched by this. How many of your problems are made up by your mind_? How many of them could you earese by just changing the way you look at them? Take a deep breath and now slap yourself while you face it – almost all of them. As I said- It’s not a problem I missed my flight. I have a bit more time to read, relax and sunbathe. I can enjoy a little bit of sun and look at the Brightside. Always look at the alternatives. It’s simply a false dilemma that you have just one or two ways of looking at things. Stop deceiving yourself. Stop deceiving others and make it better for yourself. You can’t change what happens around you or what happens to you, but you can change the way you perceive and act on it. Your mind is what determines how you perceive, feel and act.  If you can’t control what’s going on, at least take the effort to change the state of your mind.

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