The Fickle Pickle of Human Folly (Pickle Looks Weird Without the “S”)

Pickles (much better)

What Thinking About Nothing is Like- It’s Probably All Questions?

We are massively complicated organisms, inside each a system of organisms who have their own systems inside them. Is the separation of the body and mind really possible? Or will this one day come to pass as an outdated belief as science grows? Or will it instead be replaced by another of its kind?

Are you able to make your brain physically aware of itself? Like how if your brain knew about your eyes it might destroy them? Is the abstract of the mind also immune-privileged? Whenever I this (to make my brain aware of itself) I feel afraid. I insist to myself that there must be some sort of separation, like I can’t stomach the loss of my own duality; otherwise, how can I exist knowing that I am my own body? Not just in the visual sense, but in the biological. I am kept under lock and key by the inclinations and confines of my own mind, my own squishy, slippery brain. Sometimes it feels free, and sometimes it feels all too narrow. Can I shape my brain into being what I want it to be? Consciously save my neuroplasticity? Maintain the gift of accelerated pathway-growing that grants chilren incredible creativity? Do we have any real control over this? And why is the word here control? Isn’t the familiar and controllable what all brains search for? We create systems for ease of use, write it willingly into ourselves. The brain is a tool for storytelling. Even its resting state is narrative!

Everything keeps going, even without our collective consciousness, but at some point we were a part of it and at some point we return to it. Everything exists collectively with time acting as a narrative barrier: the remains, the living, and the egg. We reason with ourselves that we are not our biologies, as if our physicality, our making mistakes, our feeling pleasure is a negtaive human attribute. Duality is fulfilled through spirituality in the hope that we might keep living and continue to know. Our starving for knowlege is just as bad as werewolves’ starvation for the moon. And against the dangers of falling into the rigidity of belief, I still want to believe that organized beliefs are a reaction to the fears of squishy biological human-ness. Cultures breathe change but beliefs strangle. We reason with ourselves constantly that we are not what we are but who we are. Maybe we’re both. Maybe we’re neither. Through belief we intend to place oursleves above biology but only move further from authenticity. We are inseparably mind and brain, which are both as equally important as they are unimportant. So I guess people are systems with systems inside (with the insides having their own systems inside) that go on to form collective controllable systems contained within the much much larger uncontrollable systems that exist within and on top of the world (a system) that exists within the most monumental system that cradles the world and other systems of systems like it (that each have systems of systems inside) that we can never ever ever hope to control or understand. There’s no way to know. Or (in my hypocrisy) is that just what I want to believe?

In accordance with bokononism, it’s all lies!! Don’t listen to a thing I say!! Such is the fickle pickle(s) of Human Folly!!