Friday, 25 May 2012

Crooked Wisdom

You're walking down the street, it's night and of course it is one of the worst neighborhood of the city. A limping silhouette approaches you. An old alcoholic. Or a young drug addict, for what matters. For some of you, this is a nightmare. For others it's just week end. For two or three maybe it's simply Monday. Nobody is thinking that there is something to learn.
Oh yeah, that too many benders and this is where you end up.
Or that a human being is worth it, no matter how many banana skins on the top of the head.
Anyway: no, it's not this kind of learning.

The poor fella of this story (and this is a story, bear in mind), is hardly able to articulate a word. He's disconnected, there is no sense in his utterances. OK, his interior life could emerge fragmented and also his neuro-connections are trying to make (desperately) contact again with some configuration that were lost during New Year's Eve, 1991 (for the old guy). Reality is: the train of thoughts of the brother is simply going nowhere.

Now it's time for the lesson on stage. What do you see in front of you? A deranged consciousness, lost in the intricacies of his own convolutions. Thanks for him, he's facing a consciousness in order. The train of your chain of thoughts is on schedule, you know where are you going, right? Your mind is fully aware of his own presence to itself. No kidding: your consciousness is reflecting her own efficiency in being herself. Good. Now, I would say that the deranged fella is honest at least. In fact between the two is definitely the luckiest: because he is much, much closer to the TRUTH, to completely grasping the wisdom. 
So really you think that the configuration of your neuro-connections is your confident self and that is you? Let me understand: an organ of a biological being, say a liver or a brain, is producing a complicated pattern of (electro)procedures. This liver (or brain) is so sophisticated that in collaboration with other livers (or brains) has managed to establish an architecture of fictions where its body and the bodies associated with the other organs, livers (or brains) are living exploiting the augmented possibilities of those fictions. Now you are confidently thinking that you are someone. A liver! (or a brain, for that matters). Well done, my friend. I think that the brother fellow who drank himself, or that erase himself in his own circulatory system, he's probably more in the game than you.

One last thing: I'm not suggesting that you annihilate yourself with a liquid or a powder. I know we humans always love magic, but this is not the case. I'm just trying to give you a reason to be happy. A happy organ, one step closer to be perfectly centered in wisdom. Ah, I forgot to tell you: wisdom has been made to available for everyone. I mean not just you and your deranged friend (please don't eat the banana skin...). Even the asshole and the deliptuous. It's a party for everyone. You know why? It was meant to include also worms and cabbages, cockroaches and ivy. In other words no need of legs to reach wisdom: it's there! Feel happier? Hug the deranged, you wiser, miserable! Or adorable, for what matters...

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