Conrad Julius Ecklie (conrad_ecklie) wrote,
Conrad Julius Ecklie

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Theatrical Muse: Week 234: Question 234

Name: Conrad Ecklie

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

Word Count: 792


The word utopia, taken literally, as a possibility, is an extreme falsehood. Utopia, simply, does not exist, as it has no place in having a chance to exist in the real world that I live in. For some people, for many people as it sometimes seems, the possibility of a utopia is actually a thing that might happen, possibly, within their lifetime. These people are wrong, they will always be wrong. I can be described as perfect, the way I act and carry myself in my daily life, in my work, can be described as perfect, but, since I have my own flaws, I am not truly so. Just as a place can be described as a utopia, that is only a description, as nothing, nothing in this world, is ever, or will be ever, perfect. People can strum, sing, and harmonise about paradise, about heaven and rapture, but it won’t ever exist, no matter who or what inhabits the world, and no matter how any single individual lives their life. No matter what anyone or anything says or does, there will never be perfection in life, there will never be any complete perfect perfection, and without absolute perfection, there will most certainly not be a utopia, in any way, shape, or form.

The human race has always taken comfort and pleasure in perfection. Whatever beast with human traits first used a tool, whatever creature first used a spear, these things were the pinnacle of excellence at the time, and they helped these animals survive. As humans, we built houses, developed roads and social infrastructures. We created tolerance and intolerance of difference and of shared traits. We lived indoors, we killed to eat, and we survived. The human race has survived, and continues to survive at this time, through the developing of its available tools and ways of living, to suit its surrounding environment. We, as human people, despite this present excellence, are far from a perfect race, and this is an applicable fact to everything, everyone, and to life itself.

If everything was perfect, everyone would have what they wanted, people wouldn’t die, accidents wouldn’t happen, nor would crime, harm, hurt, pain, tragedy, disaster or crisis. The words may exist as imagined, horrible, possibilities, but they would never have happened, and would never happen, anyway. If everything was perfect, if we all lived in a utopia, everything would, somehow, work out perfectly. People would live, people would thrive, people would be perfect and life, and the very act of living, would be flawless things. However, nothing is perfect, and utopia doesn’t exist, and so, we continue.

To be frank and brutally honest, disregarding the sheer impossibility for utopia, it is not something I desire, need, or even have any belief in. Crime exists in the world we live in, and while it would be nice if it did not, and certainly a pleasant thing for society at large, without crime, I would, indeed, most certainly, be out of a job. While I may not like or agree with some of the things that have happened during the course of my life, both to me, and to other people, I live on regardless of these events, and I most certainly do not stop in my tracks because of them. To put it very, very simply, for the imbeciles out there, life, is life, it is, what it is, and it will never be perfect. Yes, there are some people who hold the notion that, one day, our world can be transformed into a utopia, but, fortunately, I am not one of those people.

People, can think whatever they want, but, being a person myself, being a smart and intelligent man with my own free will and own moral choice, I chose to know, for truth, that utopia and perfection will never exist, and has never existed otherwise. I have accepted these facts as real and true, and I live my life regardless of them, because they are not things that are very important, because they are impossible, and as such, they should demand very little of my thinking time, or none at all, really. I will live my life as I chose to see fit, and, one day, because there is no perfection, and no utopia, I will die. This is how life happens, this is always how life will happen, wherever, or whenever, it has existed. Nothing is perfect, nothing, anywhere, at anytime, will be a utopia, and these words describe impossible realities, which will, in themselves, always be impossible because of what they are descriptions of. This is simple fact, this, it what I accept as a real truth, and nothing will change my mind, ever, because I, am, right.

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