Those Still Small Voices

dustonthedash replied to your post: I Think, Therefore, I’m Vegan Nice gif usage. Also I need to go watch a couple of these. ****~~~~~have a great summer~~~~~~***** HAGS?  also my birthday is in a week. that’s a one direction gif.

Although what initially spurred me to embark on the journey of veganism was deep-seated moral instinct - animal instinct, if you will (sorry) - I’ve found that the further I progress on this path of righteousness, the more my eyes have been opened to the evidence supporting my decision. I’ve shown a few family members, known health nuts, the phenomenal medically-centered and pro-vegan film Forks Over Knives. They seem profoundly affected, enlightened even, though I’m sure I’m fueling the veganism-is-a-satanist-cult fire with that one. To be perfectly honest, there are a lot of overly involved vegan fanatics that shove their beliefs (or in Kim Kardashian’s case, flour) in everyone’s faces. I know I always end up referring to that insane family in posts like these. It probably has something to do with their angsty, on-and-off, incredibly fickle “history” with PETA, with whom I also have a love-hate relationship. PETA is a lot like One Million Moms, and it pains me to see an organization with such influence flounder its potential with petty acts of delinquency and hate. Nelson Mandela once said that education is the most powerful weapon you can use to change the world, and I strongly agree. I say don’t talk louder; improve your argument. The people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones that do. I’m one of those people. So, for your future viewing pleasure, I bring you the culmination of my philosophical efforts. This is a comprehensive list of films I recommend for the forward thinker. The one who seeks awakening, the one who questions and second guesses, the one who walks into a room with their eyes wide open and picks apart the little things. I also suggest watching them in this order, not because you would be following in my footsteps of gaining self discovery and awareness and I could feel like my brain was at least a little like someone else’s and the world wouldn’t be cold and woe is me, but for the sheer preservation of your sanity and attention span. I think that this order makes the most sense logically speaking, because it sort of weans you off of drinking the proverbial breast milk/Kool-Aid of society and slowly eases you into the idea of a different sort of consciousness. And yes, it is a prototype/first draft/I reserve the right to correct myself. Without further ado… THE LIST: 1. Supersize Me - wait a minute… 2. Food Inc. - is this true? 3. Forks Over Knives - it cannot be! 4. Vegucated - i’m gonna save every animal there ever was. and then, because you’re all hipsters… but then, because being vegan IS hipster (read as: intelligent) you stop caring because you’re a normal vegan who doesn’t use your diet to get attention because when you tell people you’re vegan they’re like… and it’s really fucking annoying when they ask you where you get your protein and if you miss bacon/slow roasted chicken/big juicy steaks because once you’ve watched this whole collection you’ll be like, “No, I don’t miss being about a million times more likely to drop dead this very second.”  And yes, I did just learn how to use GIFs.  *avoid opening this on my actual blog page for the full effect

So I won’t do it so much anymore. Which is probably good, considering how much BS is flooding my page. Gross.  Come for the shit, stay for the creed - If what you wanted was something you need - I probably wouldn’t have smoked that weed - Committing this sin to garner trustees - In order that I may discover the deed - That pushed them so far to find ways to feed - That hole in their chest; although I do plead - You stop, I beg that you do take heed - Halt attempts at subterfuge, at fighting this disease - I see all you lack is one who will lead - And accept your wounds though they may bleed - I’ll falter not, till these prisoners are freed - Into the sunset we’ll ride with great speed. I was thinking the other day that part of the reason I always want to do stupid shit is to bring me closer to people who are seriously screwed up and do that stuff to escape, like I feel some kind of weird draw to messed up individuals. Not in a weird way, but like I have this urge to gain their trust so that I can help them, so I sort of align myself with their personality and then try to subtly change their life. It sounds dumb, I know, but thinking back I had no reason to start smoking weed (among other things) than to make one of my friends feel more comfortable around me, and once we were at that same level all I wanted to do was work as hard as I could to get her out of it. I always felt totally neutral about doing bad stuff (no thoughts of rebellion, escape, release, addictiveness, etc.) because I was just doing it for someone else. Now I’m starting to think that this could get me into a lot of trouble one day. Or that I should be a social worker. I should really be finishing my homework. 

As a child of the technological revolution, I’ve pretty much been indoctrinated by society with Sepia-style images and black and white photographs carrying poignant captions that urge me to look under the surface. These heart wrenching pictures instruct me to be sensitive and tactful; to take heed; to refrain from passing judgement on people on the premise that I “don’t know their life” and essentially reinforcing the idea that if you upset someone, you weren’t tip-toeing quietly enough. This thinking only intensifies what we’ve already concluded: Our generation is anonymous. You can never really know anything for sure. There’s always another layer to someone that they are keeping hidden. As a studious middle schooler whose life lacked that intangible glamour that comes along with an excessive amount of drama, it was easy for me to do exactly the opposite of how I had been encouraged to think. Surely not everyone on which gossip mongers’ opinions were formed had awful, soul-gnawing, emotionally draining problems. Surely the term “judging” was being overused and these people’s issues couldn’t be any worse than my first world catastrophes. My parents were divorced. I didn’t play well with others. But I didn’t feel tortured the way they seemed to. In actual fact, I didn’t even know the meaning of the word “judge.” I questioned it on a near daily basis, wondering what I could do to avoid committing such a heinous crime when I didn’t really know what it was. Unfortunately, as I’ve entered high school and begun to straddle the smart/stupid line, I’ve come to know the meaning of the word very well. To judge. I know exactly what they’re talking about, and it’s not because somebody finally pointed out the logistics to me. I know that I committed to making my letter of grievances my next piece on my blog, but I feel like what I’m about to talk about has sort of taken precedence in regards to my life at the moment. A lot of it has to do with home, but it also has to do with school. Basically, people in general piss me off and this is my ranting place.  What really bothers me is when you give a person access to a particular part of your life by telling them something personal or letting them be around you in a certain situation  and from that access, they think that on every level, they know you. That they have the right to judge you and put words in your mouth and critique all you do or say. It’s happened to me a lot in the last couple of months, and, while I may have a host of problems, I have never gotten to the point where I felt comfortable relinquishing hold of the afflictions that I am unable to handle. Mostly because as soon as I feel enough at ease to clue a person in about how I like to spend my free time, a minor detail that fails even to scrape the surface of my character, they become hung up on this single facet of who I am, as if there is no substance beyond a haze of smoke and music. I cannot express to you how keenly the words penetrate when a confidante asks me about the fattest rip I’ve ever taken. When, if I’m feeling particularly happy one morning, he or she questions my sobriety. I am not drugs. I am not alcohol. I am not the ethos of rolling joints with old friends who live in central Phoenix.  While I don’t condone those with a flair for dramatics, I would advise against writing someone off for expressing torment or agony. Too many people avoid asking for fear of broaching a painful topic, unaware that assuming and making unsupported conclusions, even in their own minds, is far worse. At the same time, indulging in a person’s need to be the center of attention can be equally detrimental. We have to find a happy medium. And that’s all society is, isn’t it? Homo sapien trying to discern utter righteousness in all things - a concept so completely labyrinthine that we haven’t even begun to untangle the “truth” from our limited human rationale of human reference - out of the total subjectivity of man’s reality. Until we reach a point where we can fathom even a means to an end regarding this kind of depth, all we can do is live on. Time waits for no man, so the best we can really do is live the way we believe is right and hope that others follow suit - or at the very least, our philosophy. So I’ll finish with a quote, something I find particularly apropos in light of my previous sentiments and some of my more abstract convictions. “A man of peace is not a pacifist, a man of peace is simply a pool of silence. He pulsates a new kind of energy into the world; he sings a new song. He lives in a totally new way; his very way of life is that of grace, that of prayer, that of compassion. Whomsoever he touches, he creates more love energy. The man of peace is creative. He is not against war because to be against anything is to be at war. He is not against war, he simply understands why war exists. And out of that understanding, he becomes peaceful. Only when there are many people who are pools of peace, silence, understanding, will the war disappear.” - Osho