rational models applied to irrational beings
Sometimes, I talk to myself about myself in third person. The psyhological detachment, the objective viewpoint this allows me to be in, it's better than having to experience it yourself. Yeah, I'm not making much sense... whatever. Doing this is a kind of coping mechanism, I guess. Like, "She want to kill herself". oh no. But it isn't you.... you're able to look deeper into "her" emotional tangle. In a way, it's not you. Sometimes, masquerading as the observer is the only way to survive the hell of being the subject.
I hate how the most trivial subjective concepts, such as music, art, and other forms of beauty, can become corrupted by "subjectiveness". One person and another. I believe this also applies to every human interaction: The difference between opinions, the rationally selfish dispute between buisness partners ultimately leading to both of their downfalls, everything. And the foundation for game theory, which is the "rational selfishness" by one individual acting with their best interests.
Game theory represents this: where the very foundation is instrumental rationality: Where each agent, or indvidual related to the issue, acts in a goal-oriented, consistent way to maximize their own utility, based on their beliefs and the available information. The Prisoner’s Dilemma is a classic example - two people acting in their own best interest both end up worse off.
The objectivity humans lack becomes particularly evident in these kinds of situations. We can't quantify our sorrow, our imperfection. We can't mathematically compute the influence trauma and desire have on our lives. Seeing me through her, maybe it's just one of the ways we try to cope. Resiliance or survival? No, it's just our subjective chaos trying to make sense of what we feel.
I don't have to go through what she's feeling. The empathy I feel for those who are struggling is also accompanied by guilt and relief. Relief that it's not me. Because they're not me. Her pains? they're not mine. Although I can empathize, I can't sympathize. She's beautiful, but that's subjective - my beauty could very well be the raw ugliness you turned away from so disgustingly.
We crave beauty and desire perfection. If I viewed you through a distorted lens, would you still be beautiful? No, you would be unrecognizable. Like a wilted flower, you would no longer be "beautiful" - the ugly reality behind your mirage.
So what happens when the lens becomes cracked? By betrayal, sorrow, grief, or even the passing of time? Is beauty real if it can vanish like that? The fact that we know our lenses are cracked, and we still look anyway. That we chase beauty, even knowing it’s fragile. That we try to find truth in a distorted mirror. What's the point? In the end, the tantalizing illusion of beauty we cannot even hope to reach, the warped reflection - it's fake anyways.
The silence is louder than any scream. And in that silence, even the illusion of beauty is gone.
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