Chaos is such a powerful word to pronounce. It’s not motivational abuse for the bathroom mirror. Nor should it appear on a post-it in your kitchen. Dancing on the edge of doubt is not a spiritual practice. It goes in the opposite direction of zeal and leadership. Your soul’s avatar is a wet beast biting on the key to some truth — alone. It’s something you learn not to share, not because you’re ashamed but because this road is designed for individual use only.
I admire teachers and mentors, people who guide other people trusting the forward movement and giving everyone a chance to experience something higher, something bigger, or ideally the stepping stone for chaos. People with vastness of interest and patience, people who become myth by the sacrifice of others, constantly adding to the design and fuelling goodwill and investment in a double sided motion of interdependence. The identity of a hero is made of collective recognition. It requires popular action for the sake of stability.
Admiration is a simple thing and moves undisturbingly across classification and worth. It’s a token of appreciation, like a food stamp, bonus or a joker card. It’s harder to be admired, as the projection is never a representation of reality. And overthinking the process would only cause more confusion. It’s even harder not be admired. Lacking this purely physiological need would mean that you can breathe on Martian air instead. I admire whomever looked at me and found nothing to compare me with. To look at someone this way requires pure disinterest in norm and gain. It’s suppressing your biological instinct for admiration by association, for a completely different type of satisfaction.
It’s the simple things that matter and stop us dead in our tracks. A smile from a stranger, a moment of stillness, a quote from a book, gratitude, spending time with your loved ones and being enough. But it’s none of the simple things that will tune your mind into expelling foreign logic such as new theories and ideas. The essence of true identity is shifting sands, the feeling of discomfort, the oddity of being, not fitting in your own skin, a fire stronger than the need for peace. It’s staying away from the cookie dough of proven knowledge. It’s getting out of the winning formula that will bring you towards the fulfilment of chaos. It’s trading faith for faith in madness.
Seeking approval, taking everyone with you, trying to explain everything, justifying the others and apologising for disruption is like blowing yourself with a nuclear kiss and coming out of the hole surrounded by a cheering crowd of unsaved progress, while the radio broadcasts the following message: “Happiness is an emotion like feeling joy, satisfaction, and fulfilment. Write an essay, in your free hour, explaining what happiness means to you.”