Existentialism
Our species is backwards. We belittle our individuality and focus on our peers, we try to abandon our natural selfish perspective in favor of a wider, pseudo-aware worldly view. We see ourselves as nothing more than a small piece of the puzzle, a gear in the the giant clock of man. While this is not incorrect in itself, our mistake is to forget that we cannot make a voluntary difference in the operation of the whole unless we first fine tune our own operation. Seeing this flaw in my own thinking has enabled me to regain back some of my natural selfishness, and proportionally my natural happyness. Religion has failed us as a race. Science is quickly admiting its shortcomings, and acknowledging its failure to explain and appease our spirituality. Where will humanity go from here, from this treadmill of confusion? I am unable to solve societys problem as a whole, as is even the greatest of philosiphers. However, I will adhere to my duty as an individual aspect of the human machine to solve my own problems, to speak my own thoughts. This decision is based on a realization I had while hoisting 200 pounds of strong, infallable iron above my weak human frame. The sweat rolled down my brow and mingled
Whether this makes me a transcendentalist, an existentialist, an agnostic or an atheist, a pagan or a saint, I need not deny its truth. I need not deny that the self is all that I should ever attempt to know. Peace lies internally, and sadly there have been so few that have experienced it, or anything internal for the matter. These unfortunates are no longer my concern, however. If I still have any charity left in me, it is the belief that somehow by fine tuning this small gear, by understanding and pleasing myself, by sleeping peacefully after a day of selfishly striving after my OWN goals and desires, I will indirectly make the whole of us sleep better. with my tear, burning my eyes in turn with my muscles. My chest heaved, shuddered and contracted until the pressure and pain became all that I was, all that I am. The radio in the background commemorated affectionatley an old man, one of the last frontiersman of the 19th century. A man who had just relived an adventure that had given a strange sense of hope to millions decades ago. His words were few, but his emotion abundant. He had only this to say: "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind". As his trembling voice conveyed this message over thousands of miles to the small gym radio, I slammed the iron back onto its rack. And there it was. My epiphany. JOHN GLENN WAS WRONG. I be
Some common words found in the essay are:
John Glenn, , GLENN WRONG, john glenn, 19th century,
Approximate Word count = 914
Approximate Pages = 4 (250 words per page double spaced)
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