Now we have had them all in the pictures. The militaristic freak, the gangster and now the office monkey. I guess I left out the goth and the nazi and probably a lot more. Well, you can not have it all in live, assholes.
So, I wrote about myself and my life, about motivations and societal hypocrisy. But what could be the actual outcomes of a rampage? What could you get out of it for yourself? What do you hope to get out of it.
The answer seems really simple: Release. Catharsis.
Finally, the things that needed to be said are being said. It just feels right, necessary, unavoidable. But once you cross that line, where will you actually find yourself? Do you want to go there?
My own rage about my stupid old boss was very intense. It was the sole and only focus of my mind at the time and I could not think of anything else to do than to live it out.
I wanted to be honest and have integrity. Standing by who I am. Simply swallowing it? Dealing with it, so to speak? I had been doing that my whole life, fuck that.
But I guess it all comes down to being alone with the thoughts. Once I opened up about it to somebody who understood, the pressure was gone, too.
Before doing it, I felt that it was dishonest. I felt that that person deserved my rage. But in the end, are emotions really that directed? Or is it our convictions and beliefs that tell us where to direct it?
What to be angry at?
Beginning of this year, on an Ayahuasca retreat in Peru, I was on a boat trip on the Amazonas while tripping on magic mushrooms.
That may be the first time I realized how profoundly sad and I was about life. I had kept it hidden all my life and had anyone talked to me about it, I would have denied it, simply for the shame of not being one of the well-functioning crowd and what not.
This, by the way, is one thing I strongly urge you to do before making the decision. Trip a few times. Psychedelics have the notion of allowing you to look at your thoughts and emotions without your brain shutting down due to indoctrinated judgment. Even an Ayahuasca ceremony may do you good, although it did not seem like that at the time for me.
Anyway, there I was on this boat,, unable to move a finger. And all the anger and sadness about my lacking confidence and courage came up. I looked around and saw fathers with their kids, kids with more real guts than I had.
It was immensely frustrating, but honest at least. On the way back, out of sight of the others, I cried and sobbed like a madman, without any dignity. The sadness alternated with rage and anger.
But who was I angry at?
That was the whole trouble. Who am I supposed to be angry at? God? The world?
But I can fight neither of those. I can not fight god. I can not fight the world. I can only fight people. And no person is singularly responsible for what happened.
Back then, I did not allow myself to direct the anger at my dad, because I was more or less on his side. I would neither have wanted to live with my crazy bitch of a mother.
But I desperately needed to direct the anger somewhere, at someone who can feel pain. To share it, to make it known, to anchor it in reality. I wanted somebody else to feel my pain, so that he would fucking know what I was going through. But again, who is that supposed to be?
Nowadays, I think it is more healthy to what, blame my dad for not being there? Blaming is somewhat useless, but to be irrationally and endlessly angry at him? That is okay, I figure. Anyway, life is not perfect.
My point is: Are emotions inherently pointed at particular people? Or do we just choose them to be?
Because if emotions are not inherently pointed at particular people, there is possibly no need to release them just at those people. Food for thought.
Be it as it may, I am proposing that you question whether the emotion really needs to be directed – at least in that intensity – at particular people who piss you off at the moment. In the end, what you need is a release. One that feels satisfactory. If you can have that release and be satisfied another way, is that not worth trying?
As I wrote before, confiding in somebody I respect helped me calm down. The emotion was acknowledged and no longer hidden underneath layers of shame.
But martial arts may be a release as well. My best days at the gym were those when I recollected some very painful memory. It made me an animal. Even another dude told me I looked very motivated. Well, motivated I do not know. But definitely angry.
One thing that comes after the release – and that is ultimately what you may seek – is mental clarity. When the rage is expressed, it fades and the mind becomes clear. You are no longer a slave of lying and pretending, you are finally yourself.
When I stood up to the cops who came to my place to take my stuff, I felt like taking control of the situation. Disrespecting them felt great, because the fucking democracy and authority worship had clouded my mind for a long time, instilling irrational fear from officials and their omnipotence in me.
By standing up to them, I also stood up to my irrational fear and the shame and the idea that I was somehow not entitled to resisting people who take my stuff, just because they are official monkeys with privileges.
This is indeed a great thing and I believe that you should try it sometime. On a few occasions, Ior ignored their orders. I felt fucking anxious, because I thought there was some invisible net of drones watching my every step and I would get caught and brought to justice, but I also felt freedom and like a villain. It was great.
I mean, it was nothing that changed the world, right. I did not murder anybody or stuff like that, I just drove without a light or on the wrong side of the road, for fucks sake. But not cowering and sucking up to the cops got them down from the pedestal in my head.
They are not omnipotent. Neither do they carry the right of God or anything like that. They are just dudes who have power.
And actually getting into conflict is a great thing to demystify stuff. If you never do it, it seems like something you will never grasp or understand or be a part of. But once you do it, you develop competence. Like with girls. Do it a few times and suddenly it does not seem that mysterious anymore.
You break through the shame and being ostracized by society and suddenly you stop to care. See it for what it is. Just another mechanism.
An old acquaintance of mine – I mentioned him in the first post – did that thing where he threatened to rampage. Got him into a lot of trouble, debt and prison. I never talked to him about how it felt, because feelings did not matter to me back then. But I do not think he would want to have missed that lesson in his life. He got a glimpse at the system there. And most of the fear the system instills is simply through not being public, not being visible.
There is really nothing as great as mental clarity.
The question is: What price do you want to pay for it?
When you stand in front of all those corpses and realize that they indeed are not immortal, will that thought in itself be able to soothe you?
The thing is, if you go on a rampage, it is kinda final. There is no life during which you can profit from your newfound freedom and mental clarity.
You may stand in front of the mess you did, the rage may fade and you may think: Now I finally have a clear mind, finally I feel serene. I no longer put anyone on a pedestal. The dead bodies are just dead bodies, there is nothing that special about it. I feel a bit guilty. Damn, finally I am in control.
And my life is done with.
And look at the list of those who did it before you. They almost all killed themselves. Did they plan to do that? Or did they suddenly find themselves in a one-way street with no way out, forcing their hand?
You can write your damn manifesto and tell everybody about your fucked up life. You may get a few fans, yes.
But in the end, you are nothing more than another item on a long list of people who killed others and then died.
Sure, it is your choice. But your deed will eventually be forgotten, people will not care. There were many like you already, you are nothing special.
Will you bring attention to problems of society? Likely not, at least not in the mainstream. The media will denounce you and edit your message to make you look like a loose cannon. A few individuals may read everything and sympathize.
But hey, what did you really achieve? You brought attention to something. Great. And your solution is what? Killing yourself? I mean, look at what you are telling all the other people like you: If society is bad, you have to die or absolutely ruin your life?
In the heat of the moment or in your constant rage, it may seem like you are doing this for yourself, but in the end you are capitulating. You are giving up. You are sending out the message: It is not worth standing up to society, fighting for your ideas. All you can do is run around and shoot people, then yourself.
And if you are young, you rob yourself of possible future insight that may relativize all of it. Know how they all tell you you are entitled to nothing, blah blah? It just makes you more angry, right? You know you want to fucking be loved, accepted and what not.
But take a few seconds to think about the world that would give you what you want. How would that world look?
Is it really those who say you are not entitled who betrayed you? Or is it those who kept telling you fairy tales about a happy life? I mean, look back at your life. Look at what got you here. If this is possible, how can you believe in fairy tales.
If your mother always gave you everything you wanted, but the rest of the world did not, is not your mother the liar? Is not she the one who clouded your senses with an illusion?
But of course your story may be different to mine. My point is: If there is an alternative to destroying your own life – fuck the lives of the others for now – would you not want to take it?
Unavoidable to at least ponder about this one. About the moment when you will stand there and know that this is the final moment. The power you will have, having taken your life into your own hands. The clarity of the decision.
But that is just speculation. Nobody there to report of it. Cause they are dead.
Are the dead satisfied with their choices? Really hard to tell. Maybe yes, maybe no.
Do they burn in hell? Or has their angry god promoted them to get a hundred virgins?
I can only speculate.
This is all that comes to my mind for now. Feel free to bring up other points.
I will probably write one more article about alternatives and ways out. So far.