Absurd by definition is ridiculously unreasonable, unsound, or incongruous. Every year 703 000 people take their own life and there are many more people who attempt suicide. Every suicide is a tragedy that affects families, communities and entire countries and has long-lasting effects on the people left behind. Suicide occurs throughout the lifespan and was the fourth leading cause of death among 15–29-year-olds globally in 2019.
Absurd can take a broad meaning. It doesn’t have to strecth as far to suicide by the meaning of the word itself is implying of something that is unreasonable. Something that you simply don’t understand or beyond reasonable comprehension. Though, the thing with depression and suicidal behavior that drives people to reason the unreasonable. No sober/healthy individual would be able to reason suicide as a reasonable act, therefore what they are feeling can be described as “unreasonable sadness” or rather sadness beyond reasonable comprehension.
Absurd can also be use commonly like the context when you think you see or experience something you deemed absurd you’d go “That is absurd!” it could even be used on a complimentary setting such as “You are absurdly talented!”
The piece that I wrote while under LSD was somehow apparent that I was trying to anthropomorphize the word “Absurd” and add “The” into it as if “Absurd” resembles of a human characteristics and could walk around and speak like a human. Since “Absurdity” is technically a concept or rather a subjective expression. If I were to anthropomorphize “The Absurd” it would be more of a force that shown itself in subjective expression of each individual that experience something that they deemed to be Absurd.
Before moving on I would like to talk about, compare, and bind how “Absurd” can be taken into context as one ability to “Reason”. When I created The Joy, one of my friend bravely says that he sees all people to commit suicide are stupid because in his quite “They are unable to see the bigger picture”, yet afterwards I ask him “How do you describe the beauty of seeing the sunset to a colorblind person?” He can’t explain without using colors at all and thus it does not make sense. It is impossible to explain beautiful experiences as it is also impossible to describe the feelings of despair. Yes words can explain how sad can sadness be, but you are just reading, you are not experiencing the situation. The same way you read how beautiful a sunset is yet your brain acts differently when you are seeing the actual beautiful sunset. There is a bridge between words and experiencing. The bridge that will never be crossed. The bridge can only take you so far. You can read thousands of books about schizophrenia but you will never have the feelings that come with schizophrenia. The paranoia, the fear, the emotions building up hearing voices inside your head that you should kill yourself. Yes words can bring you closer to understanding the condition but yeah it could only take you so far, It will never bring you to the real experience of schizophrenia as much reading about the sunset will not bring a colorblind person to experience the real sunset. In a world where depression and mental illness is under the label of “Alien” to the norms, the people who are suffering will just going to suffer more alone. What can be sad more than that?
When I experience my suicidal tendencies back in 2021. I feel that I have lost or have forgotten to be myself. In a most not metaphorical sense, I look at myself at the mirror and I couldn’t familiarize myself. There isn’t a normal day where I don’t see myself in the mirror without feeling sad, anger, guilt, or remorse. One of the ringing questions were “Is this feeling? human?” Are these feelings even human? Have I forgotten how to be human? Have I become something else?” The unreasonable sadness beyond reasonable comprehension. I never thought I’d see myself be this pathetic and unreasonably sad. It just feels impossible. I have my whole life ahead of me, why do I want to kill myself now? Is not even about killing myself now anymore. It’s about the inability to comprehend another pain tomorrow. The inability to be oneself.
The Absurd is a neat word. It describe a thing or experience as unreasonable. I like watching the visuals when I was tripping as I found it pretty cool. I will put a snippet below
It was created by a series of rules written on a programming language. I can’t describe it on a lengthy detail as I’m scared to be stolen but the thing you need to know is that there are rules that makes the art sort of “carved itself” in which the rules inherent some essence of randomness. There are multiple rules in which each variables or so called rules are binded towards each other. So each value that the variable contains are affecting other variables. There are literal a random function that randomly generates a number that will snowball to the final result will be different one generation to others. To the point that there is infinite combination of how “The Art” can reveal itself. The subjective beauty of the art is also somehow at least I can define as absurdly beautiful. It took time and mighty amount of attention how I can contain nice level of randomness while can stil produce something of beauty.
The creation of “The Art” on how its beauty is something that I’ve never seen before makes me realize that there is just something of inside the human nature it can gives us or at least apparent on how our brain releases feeling good neurotransmitters that makes us feel good. That is just by nature, there. Such as the nature of my experience with her. It was really crazy that I just happen to meet her at a really strange time of my life. It was peak existential crisis as I departed from the worldview I have held proudly for the longest time of my life as there’s a time in my life when I was a devoted one. My grave anxiety towards the alienation and neglect from my parents if I opened up to them. My fluctuative emotions coming out of depression and suicidal tendencies. My love towards writing that was recently surfaced as a method towards undertanding myself. The need to understand myself by actions of validating and affirming by reading philosophy books. She was just there existing as a human yet she helped me so much and she will never know how much it meant to me. How could I not be attracted to her? At the same time I also feel that I couldn’t give so much pressure to her, I tried to distance myself as I know it’s statistically absurd for us to actually become a real thing. I know I shouldn’t be emotionally attached yet my hands are shaking everytime I talked to her! I don’t know why my hands are shaking! It was absurd or rather unreasonable for me!
I kept deluding myself that she couldn’t be that special. Surely it was just an absurd coincidence. She was just there existing as a human. Yet why is she living inside my head? Why do I want to talk to her but talking to her even more is just going to hurt me even more in the long run as I will miss her. It doesn’t make sense! I kept my feelings anticipating of volatility and I was really not looking for volatility. The whole journey was “Why is she speial to me?” “Why does her presence able to influence my emotions?” The whole rambling was greatly deduced on The Art and The Twilight. As I quote myself from The Twilight:
The man wrote a list of questions and reasons of what it means to be human out of frustration of the experience coming out of her and called it the notebook of “Soul Crushing Questions.” He did not want to believe the existence of God yet wanted to believe that his feeling is of something special and it is not to be underestimated to be just a biological machinery.
“She could influence my emotions because I allow her to influence me. Through our series of interactions. She proves herself to be something of value to me.”
“Thus, before I met her, she as a stand alone is meaningless to me.”
In this by nature the standard? The man asked.
“Thus everything in life must be inherently meaningless to me until I give them meaning or the other reveals that they are something of value that is realised by experiences.
The man believes but remains sceptical of the idea.
“Is everything in life really inherently meaningless?”
He tried to make art to prove his point. The process of making the art was long and frustrating. The art starts with a blank black canvas in which points move in space tracing a line in a way that is random yet grounded by rules to the point there is a nice level of randomness yet fine-tuned to reveal something of beauty enough to be different every time that the art is generated. The variables that are contained in the art makes it extremely improbable even impossible to generate the same art twice. The artist even tried to make his friends see the art knowing that they will not see what the artist saw beforehand since the art is new every time but the artist knows that is what makes the art special.
The girl eventually sees the art and deem to like it, not knowing the piece is derived from the man’s frustration and his best effort to prove that beauty of the art is much like the beauty of her presence and experiences in that man’s life. Something of chaotic randomness yet so ordered, beautiful, and subjectively meaningful at the same time.
The man realised that his theory is right. She is of nothing but a meaningful coincidence. The man does not believe in the unity between the man and her is out of destiny but rather by subjective beautifulness perceived by the self that is from sheer coincidence. But it is still innerly beautiful, at least personally beautiful to the man.
The man is glad that now he knows that he understands more about human nature than before.
The art is beautiful by some and is not by some.
A tragic and ironic resemblance of the man’s experience with her. The man feels something beautiful but the same couldn’t be said with her. Since love is a subjective experience.
End quote.
It was an insane deduction to be honest. Streched far and outreaching conclusion that can be used for future life lessons.
After my confession by making her listening to The Art and we reached to a mutual understanding. I mean even after the writing of The Art my hands have literally stopped shaking when I talked to her. It’s almost as if the absurdity or rather my incapability to reason why the hands were shaking everytime I talked to her has become reasonable as I wrote the reason why I’m attracted to her. It’s almost as if I have destroyed The Absurd. The Absurd and everything that goes with it, the frustration, the sadness, etc has perished as I have ripped it apart through the act of creating my arts and I have found meaning by tearing the absurd face’s in front of me. The metaphor was quite strong as I feel that’s what I did! I couldn’t really tell if the LSD really helped me to think that creative but I don’t know it’s such a nice metaphor.
The Absurd is by essence is the reason why we are sad. Because when we start to accept the condition or at least the reason why we are sad, the absurd ceases to be absurd as we have found meaning on why we are sad and we can move on with our lifes. The Absurd is the same drive why people can get reasonably sad as they have felt “Why does this happen to me? Why must I be positioned towards this condition that made me sad?” The closer the person is towards acceptance and reason the more that absurdity will disintegrate. Nietzsche it’s right all along! “He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.”
If I were to measure my human emotions that drove me towards the creation of the arts, I would like to explain it because I have felt a quite absurd feelings that I don’t want it to be there yet it is there. I always know things will never work out the way I want to yet why do I have the feelings that I am feeling? I feel it was abnormal sometimes as I explained it when my friend complimented me when I showed her “The Art as she deemed to like it. I explained to him “Yeah the whole philosophy is the art was trying to understand why does she has power to rule on my emotions when I don’t want her to, why is she is something of meaning to me and how is it a normal reaction as she shows herself she is of something of value to me but using that instance there must be a point in time when she was meaningless to me when she has no power to rule on my emotions. That measure is when I started to realize the appearance of the shaking hands and observe the things she has said to me before the shaking hands phenomena. How she said she cared about me, how we found ourselves that we are much of a writer when we are sad, how we are a big fan of philosophy, how she is generally a fun person. When the ability of reason is exercised by the man, the absurd ceases to exists. It’s a form of acceptance through reasoning.
The same metaphor should also be applied on the story of The Phantom. In a literal sense, the man was unable to accept the absurd situation that brought his wife death. It was too absurd and was too unacceptable for the man that it rules his emotions towards his ever raging phantom. The Phantom that rules his emotions and visual manifestations of her dead wife presented to her in a form of filmsy memory of her smile on the gate of his tower. His behavior on how he doesn’t accept her death as he spend months living near his wife cemetry under the great sequoia tree. On how his life has been spent too much with her and the beautiful memories that comes with her as he walked the walk of despair. It was a really cleverly written article that represents the whole idea on how the failure on reasoning with the absurd could drag a man towards greater despair and insanity as much as the brain neural pathways was too finessed with the memory of her that is not willing to let go. Writing fiction story is literally the peak form of art.
The story that I wrote while I was trippin balls was also a great one. It shows an anthropomorphized idea of “The Absurd” as a being or a force that can speak and as My Art can speak upon its creating and begging the absurd to tell him why he was brought to creation. I’m going to write the whole article here: The Artist and The Absurd
Ok the absurd (condition) pushes the creation of the art, then the art is absurdly beautiful (no pun!!!), then The Art asks “How can I be beautiful?” The Absurd glances at it surroundings and shrugs as it whispers “Because someone made you as an embodiment of the uniquess of NOW. You were carved ever so eleganty to present beauty is of subjective meaning out of something that can be inherently meaningless as you are made out of the part of infinity just to prove the artist desire of love and the trouble that comes along with it can be reasoned through this own personal philosophy. The man is quite a disturbed one in my opinion.” The Absurd ends his whispers.
The Art asks The Absurd again “No I don’t understand why! Why create me at all?!” The Absurd shouts back “Because someone needs to pay!” That’s what The Artist believes in. Humanity will always be situated where there’ll be unreasonable sadness, departure, goodbyes, and boo hoo no one cares about you. Yet by being you “The Art” as the embodiment of “Now”. As you are always unique each per generation, human can live and make use of the things that exists only in the “Now”. As the “Now” should be what matters the most.
The Art cries out of the lack of understanding “But I don’t understaaaand!” “NO ONE WANTS TO UNDERSTAND! No one wants to take time to understand. Do you know how hard that is? It takes Time and Effort. Thats like a whole subject that you’ll learn in the future. Literally the artist can do whatever the fuck he wants to do, he looks like a decent human being only wanting other people to be happy and by sharing his art. Legit he created too many these days. I can’t always show up with your dumbass questions every day.” The Absurd answers with anger.
The Art then realized maybe he will never understand why the artist created him and proceed to nag The Absurd’s leg “Then why did you pushed him to create me?” The Absurd answers back “Bro, I’m literally his number one enemy. I am the Absurd. I am the bearer for all human suffering. I am the cat that pushes coffee mugs off the cabinet without a good reason. For reason is completely inner to Humans but not to Me. I am the FUCKING ABSURD. How cool is that?” The Absurd joyfully jumps after answering.
“Uh yeah, but under what good reason you pushed him to create me?” The Art faintly asks for an answer.
“What is it that you’re not seeing? He is COPING to ME.”
I am His judgement.
I am the Absurd that only through each to its own artist I get turned into meaning.
This is the only way I’d die and it has been nice talking to you “The Art”, now as a being that represents “Now”, you shall dismember me through the rigorous process of frustration, sorrow, and sadness, and afterwards if The Artist is lucky maybe he can a little bit of clean purity “Meaning” or nothing at all or maybe ice creams.
“Do you always die?” The Art asks while holding The Absurd’s hand.
“What is it that you are not seeing? I killed two thousand people every day. I am the fucking Absurd. I am the reason to each to its own human suffering. I am the embodiment of the lack of inability of reasoning. I am itself by definition is the unreasonable.”
“Me and him goes before time you know that? This guy used to tear my face off just to find meaning. As he is still trying to do now. Old habits die hard. I let him be as I know how rough I was back then when I tore meaning off him without a real good reason as reason is only completely up to him to make. When he fails I will reign over him and controls every veins of his being. I am the unreasonable sadness towards his suffering. He used to be so happy and just like one of the humans that liked to say “Nothing will ever hurt again.” Until I came. The Fucking Absurd. My name itself is the raw drive for each to its own humans towards the path of self-destruction. I am the one that carves reason towards the unreasonable. The unreasonable act of suicide that I carved to be reasonable. The Absurd.”
He’s tearing my face off and he’s getting incredibly good over time and I couldn’t help but to feel proud! I didn’t even show up as strong as last time. But now he wants every limb of mine just to find meaning inside of it.
“Bro… You are literally the devil.” The Art is now sweating after The Absurd explains his origin.
“Maybe I AM. I am as evil as you want me to be. I am the one who will always be there. The absurdity of aloneness, the absurdity of regret, the absurdity of being sad without reason, the absurdity of lack of control, the absurdity of lack of free will, the absurdity of how you are able to feel feelings in the first place. Maybe you’ll live for a reason or maybe you don’t! One thing for sure that I will always be there. For every turn that you make as I will accumulate to become regret until you kill me into meaning.
I am of whats left from the seven hundred thousands. The ones that fails to create meaning.
“Why can’t he stop? Why can’t he just live in the now and forget about all this?” The Art cries and tries to stop The Man ever quenching raging hands tearing up the Absurds’ face.
“Because this is HIS NOW! This is the one thing that loves the most! Creating Arts! I once tore meaning off him and now he fights back! Deep down he’s just afraid that without his feelings and his evercolorful reasons he will commit suicide! He’s deeply philosophical out of the fear of suicide! He’s a fucking fighter! He tears my face off to find meaning and he loves doing it! The Absurd SHOUTS as his eyes and cheek were tore off pieces of pieces by The Man.
“Oh No… Does anyone care about The Man?” The Art asks The Absurd as he leaned closer towards the Absurds mouth.
“No one knows!”
“The Man will continue doing his thing until whatever the fuck happens. The Artist really believes there’s a grounding idea that can end all human suffering! The man is more absurd than I am by linguistic! Do you see what I get to deal every day?”
“I mean, I remember how lost he used to be when I tore meaning off him but now he ran and tears shit me off like a hamster on steroids. I couldn’t be more proud to see him happy and what he has able to overcome. Even if it means tearing the shit out of me all the time as he seeks to understand and reason with things and minimize his sadness that comes from absurdity. He really believes that through the creation of his art that is his ultimate form of understanding distilled into words he can be less sad with all of the inevitable consequences of being human. The inevitable sadness that comes with hope. All of it can be redeemed only through understanding and by essence killing the unreasonable or The Absurd.’
It’s a really strong piece in my opinion. It’s somewhat true by remembering my past sessions with the suicide prevention hotline and reading cases on psychotheraphy. The first step would something the lines of “Where is the feeling coming from?” And writing is just an act that really helps me understand myself to the point that I can understand myself better in a way I can reason with the “unreasonable sadness”. Absurdity is a subjective term. Asmuch as what some people may deem to be “Absurdly talented” after watching a organ symphony some people may deem it to be “Ok”. And that’s alright, just a difference in belief from subjective judgment doesn’t make one less wrong or more right than the other.