It does not take a psychologist to see that the world encompassing us is in fact a social container. A series of social tests you might as well say, deciding the course of our social life. Based on the path you take, the role you internalize and the mask you wear, only very few variables change. What is different is the degree in which you are manipulated and who manipulates you.
It is frightening really, how the human mind perceives and accepts ideas. To what degree is what I am thinking, my actual thoughts or had I been brainwashed to accept the ideas of others as my own. Even these very words, are they from my mind? Or are they ideas planted by someone else and made to sound like my own? Are these observations? Or planted suggestions? How confusing…The relations, definitions forming delusions enveloping the mind, transforming it into a maelstrom of struggles.
The key to being happy of course is not to think of it at all, as everyone is doing. The world is not entirely full of such gray and manipulations. Of course the stipulation in such a mind is being constantly manipulated and controlled, first subtly and finally until you are just a happy puppet. You would be happier. Isn’t the goal of life and social interaction, ultimately happiness? TO submit to manipulation, intrusion and prodding of mind…easy and happy. If religion was actually man’s fabrication and that there is actually no afterlife then this one, would not it be more joyful to be a puppet to its dogma and nevertheless believe?
Right now, are the doubts you experience your own or the one I planted on purpose to ruin your life? Is the disbelief your own or from the fact that I had brought your world to a halt that you must protect yourself with disbelief? I am not a scientist and I do not know. There are so many things that could not be seen by one human and so many possible lies for those many things that you think you believe in. It is thus such a wonder for me that one could so easily have convictions when the world easily makes us doubt it.
Those that know me, you might brand this is something typical of me, an idiosyncratic essay (excuse my diction). But actually, I paid my sister to do this for me. You might be convinced otherwise but there are so many things you can never be sure of when knowing a person. The infinite darkness and infinite light all encased within a finite grey space, hidden and so rarely released that when you think you know a person, you would soon be led to doubts.
P.S. My sister did not do it
