#it's not that they're wrong it's that my brain physically cannot see flaws in something that I enjoy until someone else brings them up

[luck-and-larceny]

Prompt 2: Bolt

You know what intuition is, right?

There are debates about this because there are debates about everything. We were created to question everything. And we don't always reach the same conclusions. So we debate because an incredible thing about us is that we don't want to be alone. Not physically. Not spiritually. And not intellectually either. We want to share. We don't always reach the same conclusions, no, but gods do we want to. That's kind of adorable, isn't it?

I digress. This story isn't about the beauty of mankind. 

It's about the opposite.

So. Intuition. One argument is that it is a magical impulse, a 6th sense that mankind was gifted and did not develop properly that could ultimately make sense of our entire existence.

The other argument is that it's purely scientific. We receive so many different cues day to day that our brains cannot possibly process them all. Intuition is our brain making sense of something it started to catch from one of our other senses, but that we were not actively paying attention to.

So. Because I'm me and I can see the merits and flaws in both of these ideas, I say it's both. Our brains might be processing input it can't fully sort out. But it knows something is wrong anyway. How is that not a kind of magic?

At any rate, it's definitely Nymeian. A sense that tells us "Something is going to happen, but you have to guess what!" and that you can't always entirely trust and that you aren't always guaranteed to even have at a pivotal moment? Fickle magic. Who else but Lady Luck could be to blame for such an unreliable gift?

I was 16 years old and wearing a different name when I realized that. Gangly, underfed, uncertain, and uncared for, I worked (I'll use that term loosely here) for an abusive group of traveling bards/cutthroats/bandits. My side job for them was an extremely unsafe acrobatics show. The more unsafe it was the more money it made. Them. Not me of course.

My main job was picking pockets from the crowds of people that the shows would draw. While the crowd gawked at whatever was on the stage (good or horrendously bad, it did not matter), I took their belongings. Again, for the caravan. Not for myself. If I was found to have kept anything it would be taken from me. And not gently either. Cutthroat bandits aren't known for their tenderness, not even when they're very good at singing.

It was storming the day I ran away. Not actively where I was, but in the distance. The sky looked clear where we were; I could even see the stars staring down at me from above to remind me that I wasn't entirely alone with the Nameless Caravan. They were there too. And since none of us really want to be alone, I was grateful, at least, for the company of the stars.

But despite the clear sky, there was a gentle, tentative rain that took its time falling down in that part of the Shroud where the Nameless had decided to set up camp. And every now and then my ears would twitch as they caught the sound of far off, distant thunder somewhere else.

Water is Nymeia's element. I didn't know that then. I knew surprisingly little then. But I know that now. And she doesn't always like to be alone either, so sometimes she visits with other gods. Sometimes water meets with wind and lightning. Sometimes you get a divine storm.

Out of the corner of my eye I swore I saw a bolt of lightning race diagonally across a distant sky.

Anyway, that night I prayed for escape. And that was the first time I felt what intuition was. Somehow I knew when and where to run.I felt it on my skin and in my veins. My heart raced. Something electric coursed through my veins. I felt a pull in my stomach and chest. I felt my head turn in the right direction, the direction of the storm, and I felt in my core the call of intuition insisting that I  "Run."

And so I did. I bolted. 

I ran towards the storm, not away from it. I ran until I was out of breath and then I ran some more, my own breath replaced by the gift of wind. When dehydrated, I had the rain. I became the lightning's twin, racing across the horizon. I became the storm I and when I did I became free! There is chaos in a storm, yes. But there is freedom too! Nymeian intuition had transformed me.

But we're all flawed aren't we? And Nymeia is so restless, so easily bored. Like the rain, she only sticks around so long before she's got somewhere else to be. And the goddess wears a veil anyway, making it difficult to ever know what you're looking at. 

So we make mistakes. We can mistake lust for love. We can mistake comfort for happiness. And we can mistake when Nymeia is telling you to run away for her telling you to take a chance and stay.

I felt something tonight. It was Nymeia’s magic pull, but I was far too drunk to understand what it was telling me.

But I didn't perform tonight. I just wanted to be entertained. She performed instead. And she was incredible. Her voice was captivating. The way she moved was mesmerizing. If we had been near the ocean, I'd have assumed she was a siren. 

A beautiful woman at the bar kept buying me drinks. I was surprised by this. Not because an attractive person was buying my drinks– that happens from time to time– but because I thought I should have been buying hers. And I would have had I anything in my pockets but stolen trinkets.

See, I often perform songs here. Sometimes well even!

And sometimes, well…

She made eye contact with me the whole time. I didn't think anything of it. Not even when my heart began to race and I felt the spark in my veins. That is what a crush feels like too. How could I not have a crush on this woman?

Maybe she was.

And then when she was done she bought my drinks.  I couldn't buy her anything, so I told her stories. I told more and more of them as she bought me more and more drinks. And when she asked me my name, I told her: Malika.

My heart beat even faster then. 

Outside, rain poured down from the sky. Lightning flashed. 

If this woman had asked me to go home with her, go anywhere with her!, I'd have said yes.

She did not ask me to go anywhere. 

Instead, she leaned over the bar, sweetly kissed my cheek, and whispered into my ear: "The Nameless want me to tell you that they haven't forgotten what you did, Aerrie."

And then she left.

And so did the man sitting to the right of me.

And two more in the crowd.

And with them everything that had been in my pockets. They had been other people's things until I stole them and then they became mine. And now they are no longer mine.

I was found to have had something and they took it from me. Same as always.

Will they kill me?

And I am still here in this shitty, little bar. When I leave here I will never return here again.

But I have to get out first.

I am desperately drunk. My heart is racing and I want to bolt…  But I am not sure if this is Nymeia telling me to follow her out into the freedom of the storm right this minute– or if this is fear casting a veil over her real message. If I run outside… will they be waiting for me?

Well, fuck.

I don't know what to do. I only know that doing something is almost always better than nothing. 

And I don’t want to be alone right now.

Even the rain has wind and lightning to keep it company after all.

I reach for my linkpearl and pray for a spark of divine luck.

I pray for freedom.

#FFXIVWrite #ffxivwrite2022 #Bolt #Writings #Malika #Oops #This is way too long

[janasaure]

Whenever someone says my name, adresses me or like says/waves hi in the corridors I'm like oh right u can SEE me? I am physical? I can impact this world? I have presence... I wonder.what they think of me. something nice? Something bad? Are they just polite? How do they do it? I almost never have a clear idea of anyone, I hate to judge, because i know i know nothing, who does? Concepts are all so abstract and i am in a constant state of unawareness while being so aware. No i did not take drugs btw just thinking, also english not first language and I don't care.also lack of sleep.so.

I'm here. and i have impact, and they do too? Right they exist too. They are.a whole other different version of me and they have full control? Do they? Do they have more or less control of themselves, of their body and mind, than i do? Would that mean they get to be happier? It surely would make things easier? What is control. What defines... You? Me? Is my body the same as me? I know not all humans have the same capacities? Capabilities? That's unfair. When is something natural, or acquired? And even if it is acquired, is it their fault if they are bad? Are they not just a victim of misinformation, bad education? Does it make sense to punish anyone, for anything? No it does not. Punishment is irrational. That is proven right? What good could come from it, or at least in the long therm? What sense does it make to punish someone for being in the wrong place, at wrong time? If they're too. Stupid? Is anyone stupid? I really want to say yes. I want to say people are stupid. But even if, is it really the person? What is a person? What makes a person a person and a body a body? it is not their fault if someone does not have control over their body, if their body is missing a piece, ect, Why would a person be responsible if they lack control?will?determination? Over their thoughts? Are they not just born with the wrong genes, or have been raised wrong, or were at the wrong place at the wrong moment?

I seem to witness, to experience, and so to beleive that the desire to learn and better yourself is enough to learn more and better yourself.

So, the lack of this will, determination, desire? To learn and better yourself? Would be to blame?

But what gives a person this will? What is the source of it? The desire to live? The want to live more comfortably?

So It's just.. our body? The machine, just the serotonin, the hormones in our brain? the signal the machine uses to reward itself? If so, can you blame one's choice to seek more of this, to follow the design of one's machine?

Are we just animals? I know, in the litteral sense, we are; and all my previous questions apply to all living things, i suppose; what i truly mean, i think, is;

are we but machines?

Is the concept of "humanity", of, this UNIQUE, what, sentimentality? CONSCIOUSNESS, that we have, flawed? Completely false?

What makes me more human than a raven? isn't it the body, the machine, that defines a human? Ravens cannot throw balls (can they???) Or sweat? But how are we similar? Well,:we do both like to play? We both have families, we want to protect them? We have friends? We are curious? We can forge bonds, solve puzzles, we can appreciate shiny things, we can decorate, we can even both exchange things of value between us! We can come to an understanding, we can fight.. oh and we both need food, energy, and we have a will to get it and to make our life best as possible, as interesting as possible? Will? Awareness, maybe?

Are machines as alive as anything? Can one moving thing be more alive than another, are we truly more aware than a goldfish? A plant? A mushroom, a bacteria? it seems to me like, for these beings, evolution does a lot of the "learning": simple things do what they are supposed to do, because of their genes, because of luck, selection.

Is CONSCIOUSNESS, or awareness, in the end, not simply complexity? The capability to understand? To know of our capabilities?

Is consciousness the ability to ask questions?

Is consciousness curiosity?

We are curious, in order to learn more?

We learn more, in order to better ourselves?

We better ourselves, to better live?

This life and this will go together, right? Every being has a will, or it would simply, not, BE, right?

Is Consciousness not simply, life?

And is life not a machine?

Well, what is a machine?

A complex mechanism?

That is what we are, no?

What's the difference between us and machines?

Well, machines are controlled by humans.. What if instead of sustaining them, of giving them the batteries? a robot knew how to sustain itself. Knew how to make it's own batteries, knows the sun feeds him? And what if, it had the WILL to do so? Also a desire to not waste his energy at night, so that he does not lose consciousness until morning comes? Purely because... It WANTS to be alive? To EXPERIENCE as much as it can, before its parts gets rusty, his circuits dusty?

Just like i want to get as much "serotonin", (? Is that even the right word or thing?) or happyness, as i can while young, while my articulations, bones, muscles work at their best? While my head still is clear, my capabilities to learn at it's best?

What happens when u give a robot serotonin?

And the whole rest of the hormones?

Or well, their version of it! How do hormones work? Could we recreate that? Have we done that yet? Robot that don't *ACT* happy, but genuinely have a reaction in their circuits? Or something... I guess not?

What if we gave a robot the ability to question?And what if they were able to use that to learn knew things? We've already done that, right? But they still don't have the DESIRE to do so, do they?

What is desire? Want? Will? Determination?

They're hormones, right? No?

So how do we create a robot with hormones?

Should we? We could make a human, but better, selfless and kind and they last longer, take care or the environment, why not? We continue to make children, alright! Why not have a metal child? If it is achievable, I don't see why you would put a being that can so easily destroy literally everything , instead of one of your own design

Wait am i just. Writing Pinocchio here? Metal Pinocchio lol

Well I've been writing for a long time, I'll continue this later

#philosophy #existence #existential crisis #existentialism #existing #existance #questions #curiosity #life #consciousness