Of course, understanding what is wrong in another person isn’t always a good thing. Once upon a time, I daresay I used my empathy for evil – even at a young age, I felt as though the world has fucked me over, and I was obliged to fuck it back. I’d pick up on the personal wounds of other people, find a metaphorical knife, reopen them, and twist the knife around just to make thing worse. Furthermore, I took great delight in doing these things. One time, I went to a summer camp in the summer after 6th grade, where I met a girl who was particularly sensitive about her weight. She was, by no means, overweight at all – she was perfectly average, and she seemed to watch carefully everything that she ate. Still, I could somehow sense that this was a very touchy issue for her, and in subtle ways I’d comment on her weight several times a day; “subtle” meaning that she’d never interpret my comments as insulting, but instead as constructive and kind criticism – she actually even considered me to be a friend. Over the course of the summer, I managed to subtly introduce her to the concept of anorexia... and by the end of the summer, I was laughing inside at this human being who was wasting away due to my encouragement, and because she refused to touch anything in the mess hall, telling all her friends that she’d eat in her room by herself when she got back there because she “didn’t care for” any of the food offered in the mess hall. I was in sixth grade, and I never saw this girl again.
I reveled in my evilness for another two years, committing smaller psychological crimes against humanity (or rather, humans, for they were always individual and personal attacks), and I made people feel absolutely awful about themselves, being quite content with my ability the entire time. Then, between the summer of 8th and 9th grade, I went off to the Philippines for the summer by myselfto visit my grandmother, who can’t speak a lick of English, nor I a lick of Tagalog (the language of the Philippines). My isolation gave me an awful lot of time to think, and I realized that I was a total asshole. No, “asshole” isn’t strong enough, and I can’t easily find words that are. I was absolutely awful, a monster, which I vowed never to revert to. For a while, I ignored this sort of empathic sense I had (which I think caused it to diminish and be not as strong as it once was) and I steered clear of people, who I thought would be better without me. Since then (my freshman year of high school), I’ve done my damnedest to try to do good things for people when ever possible – even if have to make large sacrifices myself – and I’d like to think that I’ve changed. (Anyone who’s reading this who knows me personally, do me a favor and don’t ask me for further specifics about my past, as it’s something I rarely talk about because I don't like to talk about it. I’m very surprised I even brought it up here, but I’m not going to go back and edit it out.)
Which is slowly but surely bringing me to my point (which I’m still trying to figure out). I was engaged in a conversation with McWang the other day, who told me that over break he reached a dawning realization – the only reason we’re here on earth is to make babies to ensure the immortality of our genes, and to ensure the well being of these babies, and their babies, etc. Happiness? Bah. Spirituality? Bah. Wanger told me we were only here to make kids. And, if you’re in that mindset, there’s absolutely nothing that can be said to get you out of it; I urge you all to consider that viewpoint yourself – absolutely everything we do, one can argue, is done for the sake of ensuring the survival of our own genes, because we’re all, naturally, quite selfish. This is how the world naturally works. When other species have the sick, handicapped, or old among them, they let them die. Us? We give them medication, make them handicap ramps, and shuffle them off to retirement communities. We have socialist countries where everyone contributes and pays taxes to help everyone else. We start charities, we pray to gods to have good things happen for our friends. Mankind, as a species, really is a phenomenon – but is this natural? Is this what we were put here to do? On the other hand, we have capitalist societies that promise equal opportunities for all but not equal standards of living; we promote “go-getters” and those with individual initiative who rise above us; we all strive to be Bill Gates, or Brittany Spears, or Arnold Schwarzenagger, or anyone else who has some form of power (be it financial power, popularity, or physical prowess), because we want this power for ourselves. Is man supposed to be unique in his altruistic and empathic tendencies? Or is this an evolutionary fluke that must be made aright? (On a similar note, consider this entry entry from girl-aflame.) For the past four years, I’ve sincerely wanted to believe the former, and I still do. But I’m beginning to reanalyze that viewpoint...
Also, I’ve been looking at these entries from Jill and Min, concerning the nature of God, which you’re welcome to look at and take into consideration. Me, I’m not a very godly person myself, but my policy, when I think about it, essentially boils down to this: everything, once, was one thing – you can call it “God”, or “Karma” or “That little pin-point of light before the Big Bang”, or whatever the hell you want. At one point in history, all of this was broken down and cast away (man’s expulsion from the Garden of Eden, the Big Bang, however you want to view it, as I’m not sure how I view it myself), and man’s (and everything else’s) end goal is to return to this Union from whence all came (Heaven, the “Big Crunch” theory, whatever).
But is the goal to get there with everyone else, or is it every man for himself?
This I do not yet know.
What I do know, however, is that when I drove that girl to anorexia (at the time), I was happy and content with myself. I was in a state of nearly complete and utter bliss, and happy with my entire being, as black and sinister as it was.
Currently, and for quite some time, I have not been happy. I suppose doing good things makes me happy, but the feeling passes once the deed is done, and I’m soon pretty mopey again.
Should I continue acting as I am now, ignoring my individual needs for the sake of others? Should I help the needy, aid those in distress, and keep a smile on so as to spread this “joy” to others?
Or should I revert to what I once was, and embrace my individuality, embrace what made me happy? Should I hold my own self above all else? Should I give in to my selfish genes, and become a devil to fight against an entire world of selfish, greedy devils? Should we all give in to our selfish genes, and make our babies, and screw over everyone else?
I do not know, nor shall I know for certain for quite some time.