A Compound of Oxymoronic Thoughts About Myself, and Society

We are selfishly altruistic. Life is a perfectly imperfect medium, full of contradictions, imperfections, and a little time. Yes, time. Time and dreams. I am an oxymoronic mix of sperm and egg. I'm not in tune with anything or anyone, yet, I am beginning to be in sync with myself and I find it disgustingly lovely. My scatterbrained personality and way of thinking makes for an eventually connected thought. Flighty and disorganized as it is, it is not nonsensical. Human foibles fascinate me. I keep my head in the clouds. My genetic makeup is irrevocably sound; so what once was, will always be. Nothing is ever annulled, because the feelings and thoughts created by the nothingness we seek can never be erased. They are forever engraved into our minds. Said nothingness is decipherable when it is almost obliterated, so that we may trace it back to something meaningful, because we have nothing better to do. We seek aimless admiration for the good deeds that we do for others, which we really do for ourselves. We long to be put on a pedestal. Hence, the insane amount of hormonal, vagrant adoration and faith. Faith without loyalty, because we must stray. We act out transgression of a divine law in search of purpose. We commit to failing to conform, thus we preserve sin in our making. A willful or deliberate violation of principle gives me immense pleasure. I try to disobey the standard cliche. By impacting ingenuity with rebellion, we discard its originality. I want to thank the nonconformists of our world for attempting to destroy stereotype, but we fight in vain because while some may appreciate your efforts, I can only hope that whoever controls the outcome of the rebellion will not strike you as being unproductive. Continue with your banal and sophomoric treatment of courage on the frontier, because hopefully one day, you will not be dubbed as such. Someday I hope that we wake up ad realize that our habits are becoming trite; lacking power to evoke interest through overuse or repetition. We lack all mindful originality. I strive for the quintessential meaning of life, but I am sure that this ultimate goal is only achieved by an opinion, after death, and will only be realized if our minds exist when reincarnation occurs. Were we to come into contact with some celestial miracle or being telling us that we had achieved such a level of greatness, we might be confounded to find that our fate is damnable because there is nothing left to achieve after ultimate greatness. So, we have deemed ourselves too simple and do less than what is considered great just because it is comfortable normal and we are numbed by average human society.