There’s an important thing that people today seem to misunderstand, or not understand at all, and I’d like to talk about it here a bit.

It’s responsibility.

You see, people today think they have rights. They don’t. You don’t have a right to live. You don’t have a right to be happy. You don’t have a right to feel good. Nobody really gives a shit whether you live, or you’re happy, or you feel good. When the state says you have a right to live, they don’t mean it in a sense that they give a fuck about whether you live or die, they mean it in a sense that if somebody other than the state kills you, they’ll punish him. That’s it. You don’t have a right not to be beaten up, robbed, raped and killed. It’s just that if someone does that to you, he’ll be sentenced to jail. You, however, will be having a dirt nap with blood and seminal fluid dripping from your bodily orifices. You don’t have rights of any kind, no more than that poor caged pig from one of the previous articles. The only difference between you and the pig is that when a pig fucks up, it is killed, and when you fuck up, you’re killed, and the one who killed you goes to jail if they manage to catch him and prove that he did it, and in America, for instance, in a third of the cases they don’t. So basically, your “rights” aren’t an impenetrable personal shield that glows around you and prevents all kinds of harm. They are merely a social construct that is meant to discourage inflicting harm on others by threat of retribution. If, however, you’re dealing with an attacker who isn’t bothered by law, your life is worth as much as that pig’s. You will now think that every attacker will be bothered by law, but you’re wrong. A rabid dog, for instance, couldn’t care less about the law and it might bite you. A drunk and stoned driver is too fucked up to care about the law and whether he hits you or not. A hardened criminal won’t give a fuck about the law, and, most importantly, the state won’t give a fuck about the law, because it owns both the law and you. If the state wants to kill you, you’re dead. If it wants to imprison and torture you without a trial, it will simply label you a terrorist and you’re fucked, because nobody cares what happens to terrorists, and since there was no trial where the charge had to be proven, they can call you whatever they want and get away with it. Essentially, there’s just that one simple label that makes the difference between a citizen and vermin that is to be imprisoned, tortured and disposed of in orderly manner, and the state took liberty to decide who gets labeled. So, good luck in trusting in the state to protect your rights. As far as the state is concerned, you have the right to shut the fuck up or be put in jail.

So, responsibility. You are responsible to take care of yourself. You are responsible for taking precautions against injury, theft, rape or other forms of harm. It’s your job. Once you’re fucked, it’s too late. When you’re that caged pig that is to be carried away to a slaughterhouse, it’s little comfort to you whether the hunter is to be punished by the state or not, because it makes precious little difference to you. Your job is to take precautions against being caught and killed. If you fail, you can have all the excuses you want, you can have all the emotions you want, and you can have the perpetrator punished or not, but there’s no conciliatory prize for failing.

As a spiritual being, it’s your job not to turn yourself into a fucking mess. It’s your job to take care of your spiritual condition. It’s your job to avoid mistakes, and if you still make them, to redress them and learn the lessons necessary in order not to repeat them.

Yesterday, my son came from school with a broken umbrella, and when I asked him how the hell did he manage to break it after only a week of use, he started fumbling about how it’s some other kid who bumped into him and what not. You know what I told him? I told him it’s his job to take care of his things. It’s his job to take precautions against having his things ruined. I don’t care whether it was this or that reason, because it’s always something. What I want from him is not to break things; I don’t want valid-sounding excuses for having things broken.

Everybody has a story that is supposed to excuse their shitty life before God. I’ve seen it, people literally chant bullshit in their heads about how it’s not their fault, how they had to do this or that, how it was their job and they couldn’t help it, how everybody else did the same and they couldn’t help it, how it’s normal to do things their way and if God wanted them to do different things he should have said something.

That pig, too, had an excuse. It was hungry and the pecan nuts were tasty. Nobody gives a shit.

God doesn’t give a shit about your excuses. It’s your job not to fuck up. It’s your job not to commit evil deeds. If you have to die so that you wouldn’t commit an evil deed, then die. It’s your job to live in a state of constant diligence and controlled consciousness. There’s nothing more important for you than to take care of what your consciousness looks like, to take care that it functions properly, that it isn’t contaminated by bullshit, that it is aligned with the light of God. If you take care of that, it’s easy to avoid sin, because it becomes contrary to your nature. If, however, you allow yourself to become a mess, everything becomes difficult or impossible. Sin is impossible to avoid, evil is impossible to resist, good is impossible to do. However, don’t think you’ll have a trial after you die, where someone compassionate will listen to your excuses. Nobody really needs your opinion, because all your actions and the actual reasons behind them are known to God. You might have forgotten why you did something, you might have rationalized your actions later, but God knows exactly why you did something, for every single thought, word and deed. So, there won’t be a trial, because your opinion is the most worthless form of evidence which nobody has a need for. You’ll simply get to be the result of your choices and you will filter out to the plane of existence that corresponds to that “frequency”. If you’re a saint you’ll join God, if you’re a loser you’ll move to Loserville. If you’re a slob you go to Lower Slobovia.

If you want to defend yourself and say “no, I’m not really like that”, great. Defend yourself by making choices that will clearly show you’re not “like that”. I don’t care for what you have to say. I am deaf to words, they do not move me. I care for what you choose to be, what you choose to do. I am deaf to excuses, they mean nothing to me. You know why? Because one of the first things that filled my mind when I decided that I should engage in serious spiritual practice, were excuses. Oh, I can’t do it now, because I live with my parents who are psychotic and abusive and I’m never alone because I share my room with my brother who is always working on some project there. I’ll have to get a job, get my own place, and then start my spiritual practice. It was only for a second that those thoughts filled my mind, but I instantly got it – it never ends. There’s always some excuse. There’s an excuse not to begin, there’s an excuse not to continue, there’s an excuse for failure, but the end result of having excuses will be my failure. There are no prizes for excused losers. So I immediately started meditating, at that moment. I overcame difficulties. I found ways. I invented techniques that work in difficult circumstances. I modified my mind, behavior, actions and approach in order to adapt and overcome. People think I was born with the abilities that I have now, but they are so wrong. Most of what I am now is the result of inventing ways to overcome problems in such a way that I won’t ever have to find excuses for failing, because I knew nobody really wants to listen to the excuses of losers. I’m sure there were dozens of engineers who tried to invent a brushless electric motor, and I’m sure every single one of them had an excuse why he failed and why it’s impossible. There’s also a reason why I don’t know their names and I don’t care about their sad stories, because Tesla solved the problem. I know his story.

Nobody will care to learn why you failed if you fail. It’s your job not to fail. It’s your job to find ways to avoid bad outcomes. That is the purpose of your life, the only significant thing you need to take care of; everything else is unimportant. If you don’t know how, figure out a way. If it’s impossible, invent ways that make it possible. We don’t know the stories of the stone-age men who failed to light a fire and froze to death. Nobody gives a fuck about their reasons and why it’s impossible. If it’s impossible for you, you will leave the stage and make place for those who found a way.

In any case, nobody will care about excuses. Those who succeed won’t have need for them, and those who fail are not important.