Update from Qudus' blog

Oct 28, 2008

The Fascist in ME.

Few months ago, i wrote a note stating my Analyst told me I got an ego problem, I sat back, I was tranquil, fixed my gaze on him and I see smiles forcing their way out of my upper lips, I watched his lips dangle with passion, like a performer of rap music, but this is a full grown man that knows his onion, meanwhile, I was long gone in my world of thoughts, I felt so high, I even touched the sky...

These days i have constantly noticed that everybody want to prove to every other person that they are right and that the other is wrong, they want the other to know that they have their own point of view (a.k.a. POV), so they begin to analyze, they begin to argue, they argue about everything and most especially about why they think others are wrong and trying to analyze who the other is. Meanwhile no one can actually tell you who you are, but who they think you are or want you to be. Some tell me at times "Qudus, do you know you can't be always right" so fuck it, i know i'm not always "right", i will even say i'm often "wrong", but i have got the right to contradict myself isn't it? Perhaps that is the schizophrenic part of me manifesting itself. To realize my fault and accept it or not, is up to me as an individual to deal with. 

I'm used to arguing about everything as well, but it is not about who is right or wrong, its about laying my point of view (POV) side by side as a mean of juxtaposition against yours, to weigh my understanding with yours, perhaps i might take one out of my worn out mind and add one of your fresh ones to mine at the end, so i have learnt something from you, so fucking what? but you won't be shocked, when you see me tomorrow and i engage you in the same argument we had yesterday, perhaps i have updated my POV last night. 

Everyday, every night, returning to my self contained apartment, i undo my buttons, unzip my trousers, take off my shoes, remove my socks and empty my mind. I place them all randomly on the floor, before going to bed i decide on which one of them i will still put on for another day, i take a quick recap of the day, i change my underwear, refresh my thoughts, synchronize it with my reality, update my reasoning and say good night to myself, hence, there is no reason for not saying good morning in a different tone the next time i meet myself again. 

The next day is another sympathetic day, i'm filled with profound love and affection even for the guy that took my last argument with him as a brutal attack without pity, i reduce myself to my proper humility after a night filled with intensive wave. I take on my daily journey without a name, without identity which could drift my purpose below my measures, for all i got right now is a point of view, driven by passion and underlined with truth. Constantly scrutinizing myself, cleansing my soul and skin off the fascist in ME, in my head, in my everyday behaviour, the fascist that causes me to love power, fame, money and lust, to desire the very thing that dominates and exploits me. 

I stop here to take a deep breath before i drill further into this philosophical pit, as i am aware that my blog is silently mutating into a public forum and an alternative space for reflection, so if you are thinking right now that i can "HELP" you, then stick to me until you rot away as i continue my journey, i will not like to sway my readers without them being aware of this manipulation, and ultimately win them over against their own will power. This is the weapon of the "Fascist". The Fascist we all are conversant with, might perhaps be the term used of the 20th century totalitarian right-wing nationalist regime of Mussolini in italy, or the regimes of the Nazis in Germany and Franco in Spain, the Fascism that tends to include a belief in the supremacy of one nationals or ethnic group, a contempt for democracy, an insistence on obedience to a powerful leader with a strong demagogic approach. 

Well that might be correct in political or encyclopedic terms, but the fascist i am referring to here is a phenomenon that took place elsewhere, something that could only happen to others, but not to us, its their problem, so here is why my POV refuses nationality or identity, is fascism really a problem for others to deal with? We often want to be the one who seek security and a peaceful life, security even in where we allow our minds thought to visit, making us seem like the man who chop off his limbs in order to get an artificial ones, for he desperately need a life free of pain and troubles, the metal dream of a tranquil and conflict free existence, wanting to be so real that we set fire on reality itself. What about the fascist that is based on the desire to be led, to give a complete authority of our lives to someone else to legislate, the one that awards us every reason not to voice out our pains, even when we are pushed to the wall.

How then do revolutionaries, activists, critics and other militants deal carefully with this same fascisizing element we all carry along with us? how do we rid our speech and our acts, our hearts and our pleasure, of fascism? religious moralists sought to rid us of the fascism hidden somewhere in our soul, while these militants pursue the slightest trace of the fascism in the body, that leads them to state why the other is evil (a fascist, a capitalist, a communist) or what moral values should be, and hence, does that award them a righteous life? does that make them a judge? However the modest fellow loves hiding places, secret path and back doors, everything that seems far away from him entices him as his world, his security, his refreshment; he understands how to keep silent and wait, how to complain and dream, how to be self deprecating and humble, how to survive by sanctifying every lie he has been fed with. This is the realm of the silent majority who has become the apparatus at which the powerful ones behind the closed doors use to express the fascist in them.

The powerful, at which we the silent majority awards the legislation of our lives to, has endless time, whether we whine, howl, beg, weep, cajole, pray or curse - he listens. He is just a big ear minus a sympathetic nervous system and nothing touches him but the TRUTH. When we deceive ourselves on the notion of making the world a better place, we are prompted by an instinct of self affirmation and self preservation that cares little about affirming or preserving life. What constitutes our sickness today? is it not the absence of fresh air where it smells bad? When we do the diagnosis, won't we see the need to cure ourselves of the cure itself?...