Perverse Pleasure

It’s not everyday you see people act like themselves, and usually you catch a glimpse of their true nature in moments of anger or drunkenness. I love those moments where the masks come off, the social conformities are torn off, and you see the devil within. Man made the devil, whatever desires or thoughts that lurked inside of him, he classified as perverse, unnatural and attributed them to an exterior power, in an effort to preserve a functional harmonious society, where everyone is depicted as saints.

But, in those moments of anger and drunkenness, you see what we are truly made of, you can argue that man has no true nature, that he creates himself, that could’ve been true in some distant utopian society where every one has had a perfect childhood and became an uncomplexed adult, but that doesn’t happen in our society, everyone has a scarred childhood, few people have the power to overcome it, those are the saints that walk amongst us, the rest, we act.

We reign whatever desire or thought, ill-perceived by society motivated by a desire to fit the standards, to not be rejected, but the conscious effort required to act is easily depleted, and that’s when I know that I’m not alone, it’s when people reveal the darkness inside them, it’s then that I know that we’re all hurt, it’s when they give up their facade and tell you the horrible things they think about you or someone else. It’s when they turn to violence and hate that I know we’re not smart and evolved creatures, we’re animals that took up acting classes.

We’re egoistic, hateful, sadistic savages, that’s what we are and that’s how we’ll remain. We have an insatiable desire for power, control over others, fame… We all want to be gods that stand on top of a kneeling mass of inferiors, and we will seek that desire in whatever way possible, just look at the bloodshed that makes up thousands of years of human history, all the wars, the rape, the murders, the luxury of the emperors’ palaces, the glory of the conquerors and the profane poverty of the mass.

When we act as ourselves, that’s when we understand ourselves, but what comes after the understanding? A reconciliation with ourselves? Forgiveness of others? An all open civil war? I don’t know the answer, for now, I enjoy the scenes of drunk angry men and women, actually reveal themselves.


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