Cynical: The Way to Skinniness

I do not know why I had to add a sad pun in my title. Probably, I recall something a friend of mine once punned. I said the word "cynical" and the weight-loss-related Xenical came into his mind. Two things make me feel nostalgic about that memory: first, was that dear effeminate friend of mine (apologies, friend! but you do admit ;) ) and second, was how long ago those ideas were said. Then, comes the thought of time. I think of how much more differently I think now than I did roughly 2 years ago. Why I am pondering on cynicism? The reasons escape me. "Cynical" is the perfect word to describe me at this point and g**damn is it bothersome.

Cynic. I quote from the dictionary entries in Merriam-Webster.com


Cynic: an adherent of an ancient Greek school of philosophers who held the view that virtue is the only good and that its essence lies in self-control and independence


cynic: a faultfinding captious critic; especially : one who believes that human conduct is motivated wholly by self-interest 

I would define myself under the second cynic. Why on earth can't I believe in anything? Do unto others what you want others to do unto you. Do good things so that you would enter heaven. Plain self-interest, don't you think? I am cynical about everything: happiness, love, religion-you name it. This cynicism does not sprout from some whim of mine to seem different. (Why do I say this? Because the fancy people in Facebook are pretentious and annoying. I am not making much sense. I maybe illogical but that is what I feel. If those precocious Facebook people do not want any critics, no matter how subtle, they should stop posting irrelevant bits and pieces of information.) It comes from plain logic. I do not find meaning in anything. That sort of thinking makes me a nihilist. What does that make me now? A cynic-nihilist. It sounds highfalutin but it is accurate. Isn't not believing in anything and not living with meaning supposed to yield absolute misery?

Absolute misery.

Here I am again with an emotion. Misery. Emotions do not matter to me. They are chemical reactions that we, human beings, add some meaning into. Is there anything absolutely divine about happiness? I have no idea. How I wish that there were and I would know! I want happiness but I do not believe in it. If I have to feel misery to feel anything at all or believe in anything at all, let it be.

I want misery to numb my veins. I want it to make me sink into darkness. I want it to make me alive because I am dead. I feel dead, anyway. Let it prove to me how wrong I am. Let it prove to me that there is meaning in life. That there is something to believe it. I want to know that humans have not created a mass-brainwash-convention (emotions and such). I want it all and I wonder if I ever will.

In the meantime, let this cynicism make me focus on the more objective things. Allow me to immerse myself in standards that society has created for every individual that live in it.  I should be courteous and sympathetic. I should be kind. If we talk of the superficial, I should be smart, pretty, rich and skinny. There you go, skinny. Allow this misery to make me skinny.

(I feel better now :D )