Shit Happens

28th October 2001: Sunday 10:28pm

I would like it very much if you did not interrupt my free streaming mind. As I lay this all down on paper, I am most certainly by myself, but in the back of my head, there's always some one looking in on me, asking me what it is I'm writing. To tell you the truth, I don't quite understand what it is I hope to accomplish from this task. I guess I just wanted to write, with nothing to write about. Maybe I should start with my surroundings, heck, every good author can do that, right?
As I lay down on my spring built mattress, inside my cuboid bright blue prison, I begin to study myself. Why is it, that when we, as human beings, reach a stage in our lives where we must understand everything? Our mental and physical being cannot function without understanding our surroundings. Some people look for answers to their questions, one question would have to be, is there an afterlife? Though as amazing and incredibly unrewarding as life seems, I guess there cannot be an afterlife. To have an afterlife would mean to have an afterlife for every living organism on the planet. Why we should we humans just claim our dominance? Doesn't seem fair, after telling this to a 'believer' I know, he could only respond: 'life isn't fair.' And in that case, religion to me just seems to be created to glorify our very own existence. To mass control the ways and thinking of billions of singular consciousness'. It gets you thinking though, the Ten Commandments just sound like laws to me, to keep everyone in check. We have the same thing now, except Prison is the punishment, not Hell.
Why is it that after billions of years of evolution, of wars, battles, of human sacrifice, and accomplishments...why is it, after all that, does it lead down to me writing in my bed at 10:49pm on a Sunday night before school? Standing in front of me is a bottle of Cola, glistening from it's time in the fridge, and radiating a rich yellow, provided by another brake-through in human history and sacrifice, a lamp.
It's amazing to think that life has lead down to us. It's not fair, I don't want all of those millions of years to be a waste, I wanna be rich and all that. I don't want this revelation to slip by me. What a waste. Everybody does something for someone else, so someone else can do another something for another someone else. Like my desk. It has a tattoo on it's side, grilled into the woodwork it says: Made In China. Now, someone, out there, had to have planted that tree where the wood came from. Someone had to have chopped down the tree, and then someone shaved the excess branches of the tree trunk. Someone else would have had to place the log on the back of a truck and drive it down to the harbour, some people would give a hand helping the guy in the crane lift the log onto a boat, while on the boat, a few nice gentlemen give a hand making sure the log is all snug for the trip. On making it's way over to China, some people offer their services to get that log into another factory where it can be chopped up. A couple of business men come to purchase the wood for their desk making company. Chinese workers do the hard yards to get that desk ready, then they put the pieces of the desk inside some cardboard wrapping and ship it off to New Zealand.
One day, I needed a desk. I was sick of working on the floor, so I went into the Warehouse with my Mum and we picked up a desk for $80. It was an assemble-it-yourself desk, I remember complaining about it.
"Why can't that lazy lot build it themselves?!" I snapped. What a bastard I am. I am a right wanker to have thought that. Three revelations has just come to me after I had just written all that. One, I am an un-grateful fool, who'd rather have a go on the Playstation than do Homework, to prepare himself for a future in brilliance. Two, the international co-operation that went behind such a simple product. You have to look at it. You have USA, Russia and Japan, together in the biggest scale international co-operation project ever, for a space station. When everyday products require such co-operation everyday, all it takes is for people in different countries around the world to do their job. Is it that simple? Yes it is. Would you have realized this if I hadn't wasted my minutes of being sleep deprived before school the next day? Probably not. The third thing I realized was this. The world is fucked up. Why? Because international co-operation happens so many times in each minute! And yet, there is always a war going on. This has got to be the biggest paradox in human history. All countries are the key to each others survival, yet they cannot live in peace. No wonder why we don't know if Aliens exist, they're probably watching the human race as their comedy hour on Friday nights television viewing.
"Tune in next week where USA bombs Afghanistan." They're probably pissing themselves, saying things like: "Oh, that George W. Bush kills me!"
What the hell is this? Is this my diary? I just saw the pen and pad and put two and two together. I may do this another time, or whenever, until I come to some sort of conclusion, ah well, it's 11:26pm now, this is an interesting way to waste my life.