A zombie in an apocalypse
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As much as we claim to know about the world, we do in fact know nothing of it.
Well we might have acquired some sort of knowledge through our zombiefied routine in an apocalyptic universe that is life … but just a little.
We claim to know of suffering, but why do we praise people for their strength in times of turmoil. Weren’t we as strong at some point too? We suffer, but we still feel sorry for others who suffer. I mean if we all have our own batch of sorrows shouldn’t we be grateful instead of sympathetic? But I guess its human nature to show kindness through sympathy. I hate sympathy. It reeks of nihilism. Like you feel sorry for someone because you know they won’t get better. I’d rather just get a dog if I wanted sympathy. Not that dogs do feel sympathy, but just that I think humans should be more helpful, because the truth is, sympathy won’t get you anywhere.
Our survival instincts have adapted through time, and they evolutionized (autocorrect states that this is not a word, but I think that it is) in a way to alter the way we think and act, all in a way to save our self’s from harm. From insanity. From death.
It is those instincts that guide what we do or how we think. We go about our lives, in that zombified (again not a word according to auto-correct) routine, thinking that we are fine, basically hoping for the best NOT expecting the worst. So really, these adaptive techniques of ours SUCK. I mean we think we can protect ourselves from harms way, when in fact we are as weak as a dried flower on a hot summer’s day (god I suck at metaphors).
We live, we hurt, but do we really move on?
P.S: no flowers died in the writing of this very silly post.
P.P.S: please do not ever think of getting me a dog, they scare me.
Adios,
Shamma.