I Dreamed On at Harvard University

 

I Dreamed On at Harvard University

12/12/2015

 

Everybody’s got their dues in life to pay ---Aerosmith. Dream On

 

            For me, the worst thing that could ever happen to me is for me to go towards collective thinking; that is to be a part of the collective bunch with no access to the power of thinking my own thoughts. Societies are ridiculously slanted to punish the dreamer or the one with individual thinking, while rewarding those who belong to the average. Life is much more comfortable as a conformist, but in the process you lose who you are. That is my nightmare.

            That nightmare is especially true when the lead conformist is a tyrannical government, or being with power. The foot soldiers who have already been radicalized with the kool-aid are on a mission to bring you into the mold. The soldier sheep want to find a way to trap and destroy your lion self.

            So this is all the philosophy of the thinker. Society is full of social stratification. I personally love stratification because as you can tell, I hate to not think for myself. On facebook, there is this ridiculous meme that is circulating. It’s among the circle of the combatant sports participants that I know. It says, “Kids who are uncoachable become adults who are unemployable.” People are liking this shit like crazy, and it only goes to show that conformist thinking in the first place. I have a question. What if that coach is a fucking dick and bully? What if his bottom line is to only have amongst his circle of friends, those whom he thinks is worth any of his “valuable time” yet in the meantime, if you look from the outside, the dude is a piece of shit.

            The kids are blinded into false doctrine. The word, “success” is used to convey, “Hey, if you don’t drink my kool-aid, then you are wrong” It is cult thinking at its finest, and many parents are allowing their kids to go do the path of controlled thinking. What happens when that kid is 40 years old and he realizes that he just wasted 30 years of his life not thinking for himself. I bet that is a severe blow to his identity.

            Now we are all institutionalized to some degree or another. We can’t live in a cave for our whole lives. We have to understand the rules of society even if just to keep our own rights and liberties intact. We either volunteer to be institutionalized by education and social engineering, or we get another form of education and engineering in a place of punishment.

            What I am condemning are the people who are so drunk off the Kool-Aid, that they don’t even realize how much of a tool they look like to those of us who choose to drink the Kool-Aid when the man is looking, but spit it out when he walks away.

            I spent the early years of my life not knowing that the Kool-Aid was bad for me in the first place. Now I am spending the rest of my life trying to remove the poison from my soul created by the Kool-Aid given to me by the man and the rest of society.

            The way I do that is by educating myself. I do it by making a commitment to doing the things that make me happy and if no one wants to join me in that, fine, I don’t want them to be a part of my party anyways. You see, you can live a life apart from the Kool-Aid, as long as you spit it out, and don’t abuse the rights, dignity, or opinion of the members of the world who have no free mind. You kind of just feel sorry for them, while at the same time protecting yourself from them and ready to fight if you have to.

            The main job of the police in the world is to protect the powerful (or free-thinking) people of the world from the non-powerful (non free-thinking) people of the world. You see, I’m like NEO in the movie, The Matrix. I lived my life under a lie for so many years, and then I took the blue pill and realized I was just a part of the system to keep people blind and unawake. I was old enough that it was a rough transition to realize that I had been fooled for so long.

            The part that is more troublesome to deal with is watching those that I have left behind. I cannot transfer my thinking over to anyone else, just as I can never tolerate my old thinking ever again. That’s the tragedy because you can no longer walk with your old mates. And it has been a lot of lonely wandering for me. I can’t go back to where I came from because I will get robbed in my old neck-of-the-woods, but I don’t exactly fit in with the new crowd that I belong to. It’s saddening and I can’t go back even if I wanted to.

            A few weeks ago, my beloved girlfriend and I traveled to Boston, Massachusetts. We stopped off at a beautiful hotel, just off of the Boston harbor, and within blocks of the Boston financial district.

            The next morning we took the 15 minute ride to Harvard University, in neighboring Cambridge. It was a gloomy day. It had been raining all day and would into the night. We didn’t even have an umbrella. We could not enjoy the University to our maximum potential that we had been hoping for. We did check out the gift shops. We ate at a great burger joint, right on the campus. And we got ourselves kicked out of the Harvard Art Gallery. It was a simple mistake, but it had me feeling like facebook CEO, Mark Zuckerberg, when Harvard threatened to kick him out when he stole the business idea that would eventually become known as Facebook.

            My girlfriend and I had walked into this amazing art gallery. There were two floors. The art featured historical works of watercolor, oil, acrylic, and other kinds of painting. I was mesmerized by not only the history, but the beauty. I was not causing a stir, or creating a fuss when the very large woman with hair on her upper lip asked me where my ticket was. I said, “what ticket?”. She said, “Your ticket that you get at the counter when you pay”.

            That’s when I informed her social elite ass that I was unaware that there was an admission. I mean, I had been to the Princeton Art Gallery, and there was no such charge. By this point I had seen a bunch of the art. I hadn’t made it up to the second floor, but by the way this girl (whether she went to the university herself, I highly doubt) had approached me, I didn’t want to give her my money in the first place. So we left.

            No big deal, right? I had been asked to leave because I had not followed the rules. I had freely thought too much. I was exiled from the nation’s top University’s Art gallery. Well fuck them. Out of all the Ivy League schools that I had visited during these last months (Yale, Princeton, Harvard, Brown) Harvard was the least favorite. Yale was my favorite.

            Boston is an amazing place. We ate seafood two days in a row. We wore ourselves out by traveling by foot throughout the whole city. We sat by the mystic Boston Harbor and talked about life. That’s all I really have to say. Boston…I miss you.