When I was a child, there were a lot of albums of the Police lying around the house. This song made me think, the other day.
It describes a feeling I think everyone feels. Something is broken, “missing from my life”, and we spend a lot of time trying to fix it, trying to fill the hole. The Oatmeal wrote a comic about it the other day. I think we are all constantly trying to silence our demons of fear, doubt, regret and general blerchness. The Oatmeal runs marathons. I have tried to fill the hole with sex, with videogames and roleplay, with writing stories about people trying to fill the hole, and even by trying to help others battle their demons. Everyone looks for ways to conquer the void.
We just can’t. Nothing we do ever makes us truly happy. Contentment and peace are fleeting somehow, despite the invention of a number of belief-systems designed to find peace within ourselves. Despite all of the things we try. We remain inadequate human beings.
I have a theory that we come from a place of eternal perfection. Then, we are born into this world of beauty and misery to go on some kind on journey, to learn something. And upon death, we return with whatever we learned. Some religions describe something similar to my theory. But they often judge us, working with concepts like “good” and “evil”, being good will lead us to enlightenment or heaven, being bad will damn us to hell.
I don’t believe in that. I have never met a person with truly bad intentions. Sure, as a group, we do unspeakable things. There is evil in peer pressure, in mobs and in organisations. But not in people. We are all just misguided, troubled, foolish humans, looking for a way to fill the hole.