How can the world just carry on?
Title from Our Farewell by Within Temptation (Totally featuring Tarja Turunen. That’s the best version of the song.)
Btw, I’m listening to D’espairs Ray, and I’m all like “OMG how can a band rock so hard?!” Do check them out, they’re über-awesome.
Anyway, on to the topic. For once, the title is actually rather fitting. Cause guess what, I’ve been thinking – again. About death. You can go run now, if you don’t wanna read another page full of thoughts, most of which even I can’t quite place. Then again, if you don’t wanna read my posts, what the hell are you doing here? (Apart from getting informed about the best damn bands on earth. Yes, I’m exaggerating. But only a little.)
You see, we live once.
Of course you might question that, but I don’t believe in rebirth, so from my point of view, this concept is irrelevant. Now that we’re at it, let’s stay at my point of view. I don’t know if anything will come out of this, but hey, I’m trying here. Anyway. Here I am. Everyone else is part of the surrounding world. Whatever I think of the world around me is based on myself, because I am the only human being I really know. When I think of how one might feel, I do it based on how I would feel in a similar situation.
I’m getting complicated, aren’t I. Let’s see an example. Now, I can never know what other people think about something. I only know what they claim to think. A pretty easy example is love. Many people say that you *know* when you really fall in love. But guess what, they are claiming this based on their knowledge of themselves, and no one else. They know what they feel, what they consider love. Two people cannot compare their perception of love, because – I believe – even if they were completely honest, they wouldn’t be able to share their feelings with each other.
The point I’m trying to make here is that each person is, in a way, an island. Everyone is alone. You may have such a degree of understanding with someone that you feel completely content with them, but that’s still just you.
You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you. You might also be wondering what that has to do with the title. Here it comes.
Back to my PoV, cause that makes it easier. I live for, say, 64 years. I do stuff, good, bad and stupid alike. I might try and help save the environment, find the cure for cancer (duh), useful things, not only for me, but for the world, the humanity.
But here comes the big question: what is the world to me? At the age of 64, that brick falls onto my had and kills me. The way I see it, the world is practically over at that point. I know this sounds very selfish, but since the only way for me to experience the world is through my physical existence, when I die, the world no longer exists for me.
Follow me so far?
Now, let’s switch to a global view. There are 6 billion people on the Earth. By the previous logic, that’s 6 billion “worlds”.
So, someone dies. War would be the most obvious reason, but it might also be that they liked D’espairs Ray so much they couldn’t stop listening to them, and died of exhaustion. Okay, so that’s kinda unlikely, and yea, I’m obsessed. Anyway. This guy died. You read it in the newspaper. How did you react? You might have found it interesting, and hopefully at least a little sad.
Then you go on your merry way, and read the next article about the two-headed cow*. Why? Because it doesn’t affect you. You didn’t know him, he lives on the other half of the world. Don’t get me wrong here, you might be concerned with the reason behind his death, but in the rarest of cases will you ever think about this specific guy again. You keep living your life.
But from his point of view, it’s all over. Nothing exists anymore, not for him. No, he’s not looking down at us from the stars. You see, hear or read about thousands of deaths during your life, but you are concerned with very few. Isn’t it strange, how their world’s ending, and you practically don’t give a shit?
Now, I know that’s the way it’s supposed to be, so you don’t go crazy. You can’t mourn everyone, of course not.
Still, I’m wondering if what I’ve been trying so hard to make understandable justifies that I still cry for people I don’t know. I cried for the homeless guy in the newspaper who was completely stunned when for the first time in his life got 20 bucks from a lady. I cried when I read the stories about the old women whose only partners were cats at the end of their lives. Hell, I cried for the cat who had to be put to sleep for whatever reason.
One explanation is that I’m way too emotional. The other is that… that these are lives. I only live once. I could be the guy with no arms, I might die of a heart-attack tomorrow, or I might lose my home to a fire. I’m scared of dying, and also from some random thing screwing up my life. To these people, it has happened. their world has ended, or been reduced to a pavement and a hat with some change in it. My world is mostly unharmed – yet.
If you’ve read this monster of a post, thank you for trying to understand the way my mind works.
Now, go watch this video.
Yea, I’m addicted – so what?
Dalymar
*No cows were mutated in the making of this post
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