Sympathy for the Devil

Sympathy for the Devil

“Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth and taste!”

The Devil, Satan, Lucifer, Shaytan or whatever you call him/it is universally known to be a bad guy. The kind of guy who pretend to be your best friend but then destroys your entire life. But you’ve got to wonder, has this guy just been given a bad rap all along? Is all the evil in the world really his fault? Does he really dedicate his every moment to destroying the souls of humankind? Or is he just the scapegoat of a cruel and vengeful God? Well, that’s the subject I’m going to be getting into here today.

DISCLAIMER: The following is merely a speculative piece in which I am, as the saying goes, playing Devil’s advocate. It does not necessarily represent my thoughts and feelings on the matter.

As the story goes, humankind lived in paradise alongside God until the Devil came along and tempted them to break God’s one rule and eat the forbidden fruit. Next thing you know, they were kicked to the curb and forced to live lives filled with pain and suffering. Whether or not this is your religious doctrine or just a fun story to you, you’ve got to admit that this God character is a rather harsh dude. One infraction and you’ll get kicked out of paradise forever! Something that results in a convoluted plan involving impregnating a human woman in order to have a child who dies in order for God to be able to forgive everyone and let them back into paradise upon death! But that’s a different issue for a different time.

So surely we’ve got to blame the Devil for getting humanity kicked out of paradise right? Well, no. I mean if God is all powerful, why would he even let this guy come and tempt the fragile humans? I mean where was God when this temptation was taking place? The dude is omniscient after all! How did he not just turn up, stomp that snake to the ground and tell Eve not to eat that apple? applebadtime

Fast forward from Adam and Eve and let’s take a quick look at my homeboy Job. See Job was a cool dude. He was truly the best kind of person. So one day God is bragging about how awesome Job is, so the Devil decides to bet God that he can get Job to turn against him. God, being the Supreme dick that he is, takes the wager. Thus, Job’s life is fucked. He loses his fortune, his wife, his kids and gets afflicted with a real fucked up disease. Yeah I know he rides it all out, keeps faith and is rewarded with double what he had before, but that shit didn’t need to happen! Just because God’s ego needed stroking. And this establishes that the Devil had to ask God for permission to fuck with Job! So technically, if the Devil has to ask permission each time he fucks with someone, that means that this all-powerful, all-loving God let you get fucked with!

So is the Devil really the villain here? Or his he just God’s excuse for shit that is really his own doing. After all, he created the Devil, he lets him tempt humankind, and let’s not forget this is the same God that lets children die of poverty, and various other bullshit diseases. I’m not bashing God here, I’m just being real. I mean if sin is a result of liaising with the Devil, then why doesn’t God get all Sodom and Gomorrah on that motherfucker? Or does he just like seeing his creations get fucked with? Makes no sense to me.

So in conclusion, I feel that the Devil gets somewhat of a harsh deal, I mean it’s his job to fuck with humanity.  How would you like it if you were doing your job to the best of your ability and all people did was give you shit for it? You’d feel rather pissed off right? You’d feel pretty under-appreciated. After all, without evil there cannot be good, so I guess it must be good to be evil sometimes!

Well that’s just my two cents (or two pennies) on the matter.  If you wish for more content written in prose, rather than poetry please feel free to let me know. I love all of you guys!!

“Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven.” – John Milton

Some musings on life, care and self-worth.

Some musings on life, care and self-worth.

There is nothing really for me here.

The above statement is how I wake up feeling each day. I don’t actually truly want for anything in life. I don’t have the same burning desire for success fuelling my creativity and productivity as I did five years ago. I honestly couldn’t tell you what has changed.

In some ways that perhaps may be the issue. That not enough has changed. I have not discernibly changed much throughout my adolescence. My friends tell me, I’ve calmed down, but other than that they know I haven’t changed much. Do I need to change? Conventional wisdom suggests so, as my current lifestyle has hardly led to success and riches has it?

Saying that, it’s my life. And I have finally realised what has crushed my energy, passion and drive. Care. Caring about how I was perceived by others. The need to fit in with a conventional lifestyle in order to please others. I was doing fine. I had a steady job, a girlfriend, could afford to go on holiday and my parents were proud of me.

FUCK ALL OF THAT SHIT. None of that shit made me happy or feel fulfilled. I was disillusioned working in an industry that was archaic and not designed for much of those within it. I worked mainly with people who had their heads either up their own arses or firmly stuck in the sand. And the fact that I cared too much led to me losing my job.

After that happened, everything else slowly dropped away. The money, the girlfriend, the familial pride. I found myself back in the same slump I was in at 19 after dropping out of university for the first time (but not the last!). I had nothing but my balls and my word. Well those and my creativity.

I realised that I had entered the Matrix. Something I had promised myself I would never do. I had compromised myself to become a fully-functioning member of society. Not everyone is born to be a worker bee. Some of us were born to fly free from the hive and go wherever the wind takes us. I needed to rid myself of that mindset. I needed to stop caring about what the world thinks when it sees me, and only care about what I think when I see myself.

I have been a, social outcast as long as I have lived, existing beneath a cloud of melancholy. Loneliness has never truly been a burden, but rather a companion. The moment it began to burden me, I knew something within myself had changed, and not for the better. As human beings we are supposed to grow and mature as we age, but often we can regress. I had regressed. To a state that I had not known since childhood. I put up walls around myself as a child and then allowed emotion and a relationship to break them down. I had allowed myself to become emotionally vulnerable, and for a man seeking success in this world, that is a no-go unless your name is Aubrey Graham, and then you can get rich off rapping about your emotional vulnerability.

Each of us is starring in our own movie. That’s what life is. You may not necessarily start off as the director and producer of your life, and God knows who the hell that scriptwriter is, but you are the star. And as the star, you are capable of improvisation. And thus I realised I needed to take back control. All my care did for me was sap my energy. Energy I put towards a job that didn’t value my worth. Energy put towards people who didn’t value my worth.

What is my worth? Well really, that’s only for me to decide. Your life is only worth as much as you want it to be. I myself, will become a new terror born in death, a new superstition entering the unassailable fortress of forever. I am legend.

“My only purpose for living is to proving to myself I was born for a reason.” – Mason Riley-Kidney

The fickleness of inspiration…

The fickleness of inspiration…

Inspiration is a beautiful, yet cruel, mistress, wouldn’t you agree? Perhaps not. For each person’s inspirations are different, as of course, each person’s aspirations are different. Part of what makes us all unique individuals I suppose.

For me, inspiration is a harsh, cold-blooded bitch who flits in and out of my life whenever she sees fit. She knows I am her slave, and without her I am no more productive than an ant separated from the colony. Yet, when I am enveloped in her clutches I become as powerful as a sun-soaked Kal-El, ready to swoop down and take on all comers.

What is inspiration? Well according to Merriam-Webster’s dictionary, inspiration has four definitions, but disregarding the act of inhalation for which the word inspiration can be used as a synonym, all of those variations tie directly into its most common definition:

a : a divine influence or action on a person believed to qualify him or her to receive and communicate sacred revelation.

b :  the action or power of moving the intellect or emotions.

c :  the act of influencing or suggesting opinions.

In essence the above, is simply three different ways of saying the same thing depending on your outlook or the nature of the inspiration an individual has received.

We as human beings can be inspired by all manner of things, from texts written down in our various Holy books to the deeds of other human beings. Often, people are inspired by such things due to a desire to emulate their inspiration, whether it be the humility and piety of Jesus Christ to the all-conquering footballing ability of Lionel Messi. One thing that remains true though, no matter who or what influences you, is that people cannot choose that which inspires them. For some people, the speeches given by Adolf Hitler are rousing, inspirational calls to duty whereas to others they are mindless drivel spouted by a racist with an over-inflated sense of self-importance. The actions of Nat Turner inspired slaves across the Deep South to revolt against their masters, whereas to others Turner was a trouble-maker making life worse for the subservient “loyal” Negroes.

I myself, find inspiration difficult to come by. Perhaps it shows how far removed from reality I am, that I find more kinship with historical and fictional figures than I do with much of the living. I am often inspired by those in the sporting world, but due to several medical conditions, and a woeful lack of talent such aspirations are as mythical as unicorns. Perhaps it is merely ego, but there are very few living people that inspire me. Even those that did several years ago have mostly fallen in my estimation of them. Why is this? I have no idea. Am I just a cynic? A misery-guts with a pessimistic outlook on the world, never focusing on others achievements, but rather only noticing their flaws? Does it even matter?

Anyone who knows me personally knows I am quite the misanthrope. It made the four years of my life I dedicated to becoming a rap artist an extremely difficult and trying time. Though the love of the art fuelled my passion and led me to explore avenues well outside my comfort zone, my misanthropic tendencies always held me back and a loss and inability to regain inspiration ultimately led to my backslide into solitude.

Without inspiration, the life of creative is that of one living within a void. There is nothing there, you are alone, floundering, attempting to reach out for something you cannot see, feel, touch, taster nor hear. There is nothing you can do to rectify the situation, as any self-respecting creative knows that forcing your way through a dry spell only leads to drastic dip in quality and often a dip in self-confidence that comes with seeing your standards lowered.

In my experience I have found, that there is a sole way out of this trap. Self-inspiration. Learning to inspire yourself is an essential task for any creative, especially one that suffers with a lack of stimulation such as myself. Immerse yourself in your own creativity. Become your own favourite artist, rapper or film-maker. Love your own art. Once you do that, you find that there will be no need to take inspiration from the world as you challenge yourself to improve and constantly rise higher.

Lastly, I feel that I should share the five people who inspire me most on this planet. Nathan, Grace-Ann, Simone, Morgen and Asmara. In other words, my siblings. My sisters possess a work-rate that is incomparable and a single-minded dedication to progression. They let nothing deter them from what they wish to achieve and continue on, no matter how large the obstacle they face. My brothers have lived their lives according to how they wish to live with no apologies or true regrets. They never listened to voices attempting to dissuade them from what they pursue and continue to live like true men, according to their own rules as no man’s thrall, compromising their beliefs for nothing. I love those guys immeasurably.

“The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can’t achieve it.”  – Jordan Belfort (The Wolf of Wall Street)