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Xavier N.

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Enjoy reading my stuff. Or don't. I write because I enjoy it. I don't write for other people.

the wonders of a societal downfall

June 22, 2019



We’ve all read a dystopian novel. Or an attempted utopia-turned-dystopia. Fahrenheit 451, The Giver, 1984. Those are the classics, aren’t they? We’ve either heard of them or read the pages ourselves. Or maybe you read a summary of them.

​Have you ever thought about how there are parts of Earth that are perfect examples of dystopias? Or parts of history that more or less depict an attempted utopia that didn’t work out?

Not like they ever do work out.

I don’t think I’ve ever read a story where there's a utopia with a happy ending. A story where nothing goes wrong and the protagonist lives a long, happy life with no strife. Where they don’t fight for what they think is right.

There’s no antagonist in a utopia. Everyone is equal.

There’s no protagonist in a utopia. Everyone is equal.

There is no such thing as a perfect world — only imperfect.

Perfect was just a word made up by people who were desperate to blind themselves to the impurities and the more pitiful parts of the world. Ignorance is bliss, and we all want to be happy, don’t we?

Don’t we?

We’re only happy when we’re oblivious to the toxicity of the world around us.

One child hears gunshots and fears for their life.

Another hears the same noise and thinks they’re fireworks.

One child works hard to make money for themselves and their family.

Another gets an allowance from their parents every week and is none the wiser of the hard work— or lack thereof— that goes behind that money.

One child suffers.

Another is fed with a silver spoon.

Is there a middle ground? Yes.

But do labels and stereotypes usually ever pay attention to the middle ground?


Let’s ask a question, shall we? I’ve been doing this a lot as of recently, but philosophy is fun, and it’s not like I care about what you think anyway. Not like I’ll hear what you think or even wonder what your answer is.

Here’s the question:

As a society, are we thriving?

Are we a living, writhing mass moving forward as a whole? Are our movements synchronized with one another’s? Are we successfully supporting one another as we continue in this game called life?

No. I don’t think so.

But I can’t speak for you, the reader, now can I? I’m just the writer.

I’m just the one making you question further. That’s what I want. For you to question your very existence. To push forward to find answers to questions that Google can’t answer for you. Where do you find these answers?
Have you looked in a mirror? Or a camera? Your reflection—

Okay. You. You find the answers in yourself. I’m not some all-knowing, wise being that has all the answers to every question that a curious, growing teenager wants to ask. And it’s not like I’ll answer every single question you ask, anyway— I don’t like teenagers. They’re annoying most of the time, and I can only tolerate so much stupidity in a day.

And I can usually tolerate quite a bit of stupidity. But sometimes I have to tap out. Let myself comprehend all the dumb shit that I’d just read.

Sometimes even I’m stupid. I’d like to think that I’m a pretty intelligent individual. But we all have our dumb moments. Even those thrown on a pedestal with the label of “genius” are dumbasses every once in a while.


A lot of people don’t like the idea of labels.

For some, it means that they aren’t unique. Labels tie them to a particular group of people, whether it be sexuality, ethnicity, age, gender identity. “What do you mean, I’m not some special snowflake out of approximately eight billion people on Earth? That’s not right. That’s not fair.



What is the dictionary definition of “fair?”

Fair (adj.)
1: marked by impartiality and honesty; free from self-interest, prejudice, or favoritism.

Free from self-interest. Prejudice. Or favoritism.

“That’s not fair.”

Oh, but it is and isn’t at the same time. When has there ever been a time in your life where things have been fair? In your eyes, it’s usually when you have the upper hand— when you’re a step ahead of the game compared to everyone else.

When you’re on top.

On top.

On top, and yet you still want more.

On top, and yet you’re still looked down upon. “I want to be God,” your mind thinks, and, although you may not hear it just yet, your mind is breaking, fracturing, forcing itself to become more.

To become a monster.

Have you ever heard of the story of Narcissus?

That one bitch. You know the one.

“I love myself. I’m so beautiful and perfect, and no one will ever meet my expectations. I’m going to look at myself all day and ignore all the peons and disgusting morons that try to talk to me. They don’t deserve my attention. They don’t deserve my anything.

Arrogant. Infuriating. Stubborn. Self-centered. You love yourself so much that you don’t love anyone else.

Fuck, that’s hilarious.

If you’re someone who’s like Narcissus, I hope you eventually realize how fucking stupid you are. An ignorant moron blind to the economic status of the world, blind to the truth of the flowing ebb of time all because, “Oh, I look pretty good today. I look good all the time. Look at this thing I did! It’s way better than that kid over there. I’m the best at this. Everyone else sucks. They aren’t even close to my level of skill.”

God, could you sound any more annoying?


That’s mean, isn’t it?

I’m such a mean person.

But I won’t apologize for my "rudeness." That would make me a dull, submissive person. Not saying that all submissive people are boring, but if they never pick a fight, then they’re destined to rot with the rest of the pacifists.

Oh, but pacifists are so lovely! They don’t pick fights, and they never get violent with other people regardless of what they say, and they’re so kind and thoughtful, and they’re always the better person—


That’s such bullshit.

Pacifists can be nice, sure. But they repress one of the vital parts of human nature— self-defense. They won’t defend themselves, so they don’t get into an argument. They sit silently and suffer while someone takes their anger out on them. When they’re attacked for being a pacifist, all they can do is curl up in a ball and pray that they aren’t hurt too badly.

Who the hell would want to be someone like that? Someone who can’t speak up for themselves because it goes against what they believe? It’s like they want to be spat on by the world. All because they wanted to choose the high road, and yet people still look up to them for it.

Sheep blindly following their shepherd without truly realizing how much of an idiot their role model is.

It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, kids.

You either work hard to get to the top of the tower, or you’re thrown down by the billions of others trying to do the same thing. Some people use dirty tricks to get what they want— whether that be bribing someone with their body, money, empty promises— and if you're going to take the high road?

If you want to be the better person? Sure, it might get you far in life. Hell, you might even continue on that path and be content with the way you lived your life. In that case, congratulations! You lived a good life. Sure, you had your ups and downs, but it all turned out fine in the end, right?


Oh, but you don’t know if everything turned out alright. In the average human life, we interact with so many different things: People, other living beings, inanimate objects. Unless we’re given a book or two or… a dozen, on how everything played out that we were a part of, we would never be able to say “everything worked out fine in the end” and for it to actually be true.


Humans think they’re so much more capable than they actually are.

“We can do so much—”

But how much of it pays off in the end?

We, as a species, live off of the reward system.

We live off of the release of chemicals in our brain that makes us feel better about ourselves. That allows us to feel ecstasy.


Although humans are an “advanced” species because of the build of our brains, we, at our very centers, are still primal beasts.

Our primary purpose is to reproduce and make sure that our species doesn’t die out.

We destroy.

We build.

We destroy again.

And the cycle continues, on and on and on—

Don’t repeat history.

Don’t make the same mistakes that they did so long ago.

Oh, but let’s go to war with this country. Let’s fight those of our fellow species all so we can come out on top.

Out on top.

I wonder what goes through someone’s mind when they take a life. Are they so blind from hatred? What are they trying to accomplish with something like that?

Is killing ever a justifiable action to take?

“It was in self-defense—”

Was it really, though? Were you truly going to die if you didn’t defend yourself?

You couldn’t know that, because you killed that person before you could experience the rest of that path.

Have you ever thought about how many different routes there are in life? Usually, life is described as a road with two different paths: the one that everyone goes down, and the path less traveled. The latter is the one that makes you think that you’re a special snowflake.

But I like to think of life as more of a spiderweb.

Are we the spiders?

Or are we the prey that gets caught in the web?

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.

Do we have a choice?

Were we ever able to choose our place in the world?

Or was it already predetermined before we even knew our own names?

Isn’t everything in this world predetermined?


I’d like to think so. It makes less of a headache of things.

Fate. We are destined to do this or that. We’re supposed to go here or there. This is how it’s supposed to go; here’s how it’s going to happen. Here’s the when, where, why, and—

Predetermined. Look in that crystal ball, and here’s the life you’re going to live. Nothing you can do will change the way that the waters of life ebb. You can put a boulder in the waters, but the river will eventually win.

The river always wins.

Karma. The good and the bad.

You hurt someone’s feelings intentionally. You did this or that, and it was a bad choice. Now people think that something unlucky is going to happen to you, and since they believe it, you do too.

Alternatively, you can do something good, and now everyone treats you a little nicer than before because of what you did. Good on you for being a decent person and doing the right thing, since apparently doing the right thing is a surprise in this day and age.

We’re all so selfish.

We only look out for ourselves.

Every man for themselves.

Survival of the fittest.

Adapt, or you die.

Stay healthy, or you die.

Shut up, would you?

Humans all die. All of us die. Don’t talk about it like it’s something that you can avoid. Nothing living lasts forever, and you’re not an exception to that rule. Don’t think that you can drink your magical healthy juice and all your problems will go away.

Your magical healthy juice won’t solve the fact that you have work to do. Your magical healthy juice won’t help you with that mental breakdown you’re going to have when you’re stressed out beyond belief because everything in your life is seemingly stacking up and you don’t know what to do and why is this happening to you? What did you do to ever deserve this? You were a good kid, and you did what you were told, but was it just not good enough?

Will anything ever be good enough?


Tearing at the seams.

What will take away this pain that you feel?

How can you fix your problems?

Brooding about them won’t help.

Snapping at other people because you’re stressed won’t help.

Being a bitch won’t help.

You can’t fix all the problems in the world. You can’t find a cure for cancer when you don’t try to research every little thing you can. You can’t solve world peace or world hunger just by sitting there. Do you want to do something about the problems in the world? Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret:

You can’t.

Not now, not ever.

You’re useless.

How did that make you feel?

When I called you useless?

When I said you couldn’t do something?

Did it make you want to go out and actually take action?

Have you already been taking action to help solve world problems?

… What do you want me to say? “Congratulations, you’re not a worthless piece of garbage like the rest of us who aren’t doing jack shit to save the ecosystem or other third-world countries? Congratulations, you’re doing above subpar work that is out of your way? Congratulations, you're a good person?”

I shouldn’t have to congratulate you for being a Good Samaritan in our society. “Oh, you perfect example of what’s good in the world, take me in your loving embrace and teach me how to be just as kind and as wonderful as you are!”

Fuck no.

Good should be average.

It shouldn’t be congratulated or celebrated. We, as a living, thriving, writhing society, should be good.

But we aren’t. Not as a whole.

We’re tearing each other apart. Some people want to commit murder— commit genocide— all because of a trait that one or a group has.

Do you know what I’m talking about?

Let me give you a hint.

“___ aren’t oppressed.”

How many groups can you put in that blank line?

“___ have gotten everything they wanted. We don’t have to do anything else for them.”

Getting warmer.

“___ have equal rights.”

Oh, the temperature dropped a little. We can still put a lot of labels in there — a lot of groups.

“___ aren’t discriminated against.”

Hm. Still a little chilly.

Let’s get to the point, shall we?

“___ got same-sex marriage, so why are they still complaining that there are still equality issues?”

There it is.

If society was so great and all, we wouldn’t have to ask these questions.

If society was so prim and proper and the perfect example of what a society would be, what would we have?

Oh, I mentioned it at the very beginning of this piece. It at the tip of my tongue…


Utopias never work out, though. They always turn into dystopias. Never a happy ending with these stories. And if there is a happy ending, then there’s usually suffering along the way — lots of it.

Society is meant to crumble, eventually. Society is expected to break and rip apart and destroy itself from the inside-out. It's history.

Humans are meant to destroy.

Who knew that we were also self-destructive?

I didn’t.

Maybe I’m wrong.

Maybe we’re all good children and—

Yeah, right.

Tell that to the kids who’ve harassed others because of skin color. Because of ethnicity. Because of accents, height, mental disorders, quirks, speech patterns. Because of age, their voice, their nose shape, the scars that they have, their hair color, how their bodies are built.

Tell that to the kids who oppressed other children and made them feel like nobody loved them.

Tell that to the kids who isolated other children and pushed them off the edge to suicide.

Tell that to the kids who have no remorse for those who suffer.

Tell that to the kids who think that they know everything about how the world works and then some, and talk like they know everything at every given moment when they’re just as ignorant as the rest of us.

Tell that to the kids who think they’re better than everyone else— the arrogant kids.

Tell that to the kid that thought their dream was insignificant because of what others said to them. Tell that to the kids who made that little one feel like they were insignificant— like they didn’t matter to anyone, not even to themselves.

Tell that to the kid, the one that was raised on the idea that they were an awful child. The one who doesn’t know how to talk about their problems openly with other people unless they’re under extreme emotional pressure and have to forcefully break their walls, so they don’t explode.

Tell that to the little toddler me that didn’t know what she was doing wrong because her parents didn’t tell her anything.

Tell that to the present me who writes because they don’t have anything else that they’re good at.

Tell me.

What is this society doing to help my generation? To help them adapt?

Tell me.

Do you know what it feels like to truly, fully hate yourself?

Tell me.

What is society doing to help me get through all this pain? All this trauma?

I’d really like to know.

It might not ever get better.

It might get worse.

It might get to the point where you’re at rock bottom, alone in a hole that you either dug yourself into or was tossed in by life.

You might want to give up.

And I’m not one to stop you.

I don’t know who you are, what your name is, what you’ve been through, or what you will go through.

But if you decide to keep pushing forward.

If you keep going.

If you only get out of bed because of the little things.

Maybe you’ll eventually get out of that hole and touch the fucking sky, because if you’ve been through hell and back and still live to tell the tale, then you deserve to have your story heard.

But not by me.

Don’t think that I care. I don’t— not in the slightest.

Don’t think that just because I pulled some motivational shit out of my ass means that I want to hear your life story. That I want to see it printed on paper. I added that motivational shit because I felt like this piece got too goddamn sad, so I had to at least try to balance it out before someone complains that what I wrote was too depressing or something.

I don’t care about what you think, though. It’s just annoying when obnoxious idiots complain about a depressing piece.

You’re just a reader.

I don’t know you.

I don’t want to get to know you. Not over some candlelit, romantic dinner. Not now, not ever. You’re just here to read shit, and I’m here to provide you with shit.

That’s all this is.

A system. Other writers and I keep this running so our fancy words and silly stories can amuse you.

I write philosophical pieces.

But I’m just a teenager given too much time to think.
part 3 of the philosophy of a teen given too much time to think

part 1: why do we write?
part 2: the masochistic toleration of human sin


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  • June 22, 2019 - 1:05pm (Now Viewing)

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1 Comment
  • onceupononline

    "Perfect was just a word made up by people who were desperate to blind themselves to the impurities and the more pitiful parts of the world. Ignorance is bliss, and we all want to be happy, don’t we?"
    I especially liked this line. This post raised some interesting and necessary thoughts on society and I think the informal language and changes in tone that you used worked to made this a very influential piece! I also think the way you spaced your lines was clever as it made the piece quicker to read whilst also drawing attention to certain important aspects, even if the reader is unaware of that -- good job!

    3 months ago