I’ve always held quarrels against the structural basis of Nihilism.
It strives in devouring any worth behind worldly constructs, and does so mercilessly, because the charcoal that fuels it seems made from the cinders of a society in ideological flames. I’m twenty-two, which represents that hopefully, most of my life still awaits me, yet… I, akin to the vastest numbers of my generation, have been raised under cruel forecasts and outright dooming patterns: senseless acts of moral terror spawning almost daily, a scientific community that insists on a very real factor of life being irreversible altered by the selfish and hedonistic acts of humanity towards Nature, tendrils of corruption and interest crawling under the skin of powerful figures, some of which hold nuclear arsenal capable of turning this blue marble we have known to be (so far) the only planet that harbours life, into a wasteland of volcanic winters and centuries of acid fall-out, rendering it just another barren planet into a myriad of trillions we’ve learned to observe.
All of this, thrusting and gushing into an already exasperated youth, constantly in contact with a global world that – by expanding – seems less and less just and predictable by every inch touched. All of this, and a haunting sensation that whatever could matter, and whatever does unavoidably matter in our lives, is but a passing lucid dream we hopefully cling to. But, in the hopes of what?
Nuclear arsenal isn’t going anywhere, because power in intimidation is an acquired technique that simply cannot be reduced, only expanded, because a powerless superpower is… well, no longer a superpower.
Pollution became so intense that reversing it would require an immense amount of resources and funds that are only held by, coincidentally, the corporations that most pollute, and outlawing those practices or forcing those corporative bodies to shift funds into that cause is met with the ghastly and evasive front of lobbying and a fleeting justice network.
Terror is no longer confined to the exterior, but instead, engineered within us by a previous fear-ridden generation (for good reason, might I add). For me, the Outside seems far too similar with that zoo pet that frightened me when I was young, but “do not worry, it is more scared of you than you are of it”, but now, we are that zoo pet, we shiver and cower under a world that moves far too quickly, recklessly, and aiming at no direction. And in turn, that world fears us lightly, because we are the wood that burns above that charcoal, we are the cinders of that Nihilistic brazier.
To face such cemented futures everyday – and more than face them – to be assured constantly by a barrage of information that, this is not a possibility, this is no less than a reality, is to enter an Age where the deconstruction of all mattering concepts as a shield against their inevitable loss, and moreover, that constantly approaching loss. That mechanical disassemble of things we would otherwise be naturally in love with, is to me the grimmest crime one could commit against itself. We tear and shred all semblance of emotion towards a genuine experience, inasmuch as we reach our core and overlook the fields, and there is nothing there, not a glimpse of substance, not even shallow waters, but a bleak void holding all features of reality, or put in a simple latin word, “nihil”.
It’s hard to navigate these topics and not feel a certain weight of sensibility, when did we become frigid beings that leap at anything remotely worthy of our appreciation, exhaust it, and then cast it upon a sea already paved with isles of human waste, both physical and metaphorical?…
Suffice to say, I’m not a fan of Nihilism, but it seems to run so deep within me, that it almost doesn’t matter what outlook I have on it, it will grip with the same resolve, ever-hungry and all-consuming…