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The Millennial Liberal

03 November 2020

Untitled, unnamed, unbound

I look a lot for meaning in life.

And when I think about meaning, and what gives birth to meaning, it really comes down to how we string together words. A singular word can have one meaning, but until it’s looked at in concert with the words around it, it won’t yield anything deeper.

But sometimes, I look so hard for meaning that by the time I get to the bottom of my analysis, I realize that I’ve come full circle. Because what does it mean for something to matter, when we are the ones ascribing meaning to it?

Does anything matter?

Because at the end of the day, all our lived experiences and known realities are constructed. And the way our present society has been constructed is a fucking shitshow. It is so hard to be human. To be alive is to be constantly aware of your personal sufferings and how others feel pain. Life simply is, but we’ve overcomplicated living, as we are wont to overcomplicate everything.

But beyond the meaning. Beyond the names and notions and etiquette and tacit acceptances and alleged facts we’ve constructed is life, still. Down at the bottom of the analysis is life. And in the absence of ascribed meaning life still holds value. And power. And hope.

***

This is a post about the elections but this is also a post about humanity, because what are the elections but an extension of the order and structure that we crave?

The base shaped and maintained the superstructure.

Now the superstructure maintains and shapes the base, but a little too much so.

These are abstract thoughts because as of late, I feel as if I’ve been existing in a different prism. Truth be told, this year I was a sachet of black tea steeped in the warm grey vapors of depression. In the process of stripping down the parts of myself that are constructed, I’ve flitted back and forth between who (I’m discovering) I truly am and who I’ve always presented myself to be.

How I see myself now is less tied to how I move through the world and more in tune with how I feel.

And I feel, now, exhausted. I spent the entire year organizing the living daylight out of my soul do you understand what I am saying I am saying that I have both driven myself off a cliff and also pulled myself back for the sake of getting to a tomorrow that is bearable.

Today, it is Tuesday, 3 November 2020.

Let me share one more date—tomorrow’s date—the one that must be more bearable.

On Wednesday, 4 November 2020 the United States of America officially withdraws from the United Nations Paris Agreement on climate change.

So what the fuck does this election matter when we are heading for extinction anyway? What did I pull myself back for when the tomorrow that we’re making more bearable is still a losing battle? What are my actions contributing to in this age of the Holocene?

Does anything matter?

***

I look a lot for meaning in life.

And when I think about meaning, and what gives birth to meaning, it really comes down to how we string together words. A singular word can have one meaning, but until it’s looked at in concert with the words around it, it won’t yield anything deeper.

(There is inherent power, and then there is collective power.)

But sometimes, I look so hard for meaning that by the time I get to the bottom of my analysis, I realize that I’ve come full circle. Because what does it mean for something to matter, when we are the ones ascribing meaning to it?

Does anything matter?

(Power cannot exist in a vacuum because it necessitates an opposing force.)

Because at the end of the day, all our lived experiences and known realities are constructed. And the way our present society has been constructed is a fucking shitshow. It is so hard to be human. To be alive is to be constantly aware of your personal sufferings and how others feel pain. Life simply is, but we’ve overcomplicated living, as we are wont to overcomplicate everything.

But beyond the meaning. Beyond the names and notions and etiquette and tacit acceptances and alleged facts we’ve constructed is life, still. Down at the bottom of the analysis is life. And in the absence of ascribed meaning life still holds value. And power. And hope.

(Our power is inherent because being alive is antithetical to inertia.)

Because it exists, against all odds.

Because it persists, in defiance of the chaos of the universe.

Because it is. As I am. As we are.

Together.

Today. 

And all days ahead. 

Bound by despair amidst socio-political economic systems collapse.

Rooted in love. 

I ask myself: does anything matter?

And the world whispers back: you do.

(Artwork by Ana Yael)

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Hi there!

I believe books are magic, capitalism is in desperate need of an overhaul, and humans are inherently good.

I write about stuff in support of those guiding principles, including, but not limited to: politics, philosophy, love, loss, navigating life confusingly torn between nihilism and optimism. The usual.

Catch me in the multiverse @changles.me

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