Summary

The article presents an open letter reflecting on the human condition, emphasizing the paradox of feeling trapped in a reality that is inherently boundless.

Abstract

The author addresses an open letter to those who feel mentally confined, drawing parallels between physical captivity and the psychological imprisonment of the mind. The text explores the idea that humans are intrinsically infinite, yet they create self-imposed limitations that lead to a sense of isolation and disconnection from the true nature of reality. It suggests that the complexity we impose on our existence is akin to chasing empty flavors, while the truth is simple and unbounded. The article encourages readers to recognize the illusory nature of their perceived constraints and to embrace the liberating realization of their infinite nature, which is the only true sanity.

Opinions

The author posits that humans are inherently infinite beings who mistakenly accept a life of limitations and relativity as normal.
The complexity of life is compared to "eating prison gruel," implying that societal norms feed us an unsatisfactory and restrictive version of reality.
The article suggests that the recognition of one's own infinite nature is akin to a spiritual awakening, freeing one from the cycle of hellos and goodbyes.
It is implied that the pursuit of self-improvement and the obsession with complexity are futile and that true happiness lies in understanding the simplicity of existence.
The text criticizes the human tendency to nurture a sense of separation from the universe, advocating instead for a dissolution of the self into the infinite.
The author hints at a disdain for the superficiality of modern writing platforms, juxtaposing them with the profound truths they ought to convey.
The piece concludes on an optimistic note, reassuring readers that embracing the concept of infinity will ultimately lead to peace and the understanding that "everything's gonna be alright."

Since everyone is writing open letters

An Open Letter To Humans Stuck in Their Own Heads

Captivity is so damn normal to those born into it

Dearest wanderers, listen.

You are confined in prison, separated — totally cut off.

Your destiny is to depart from everyone, everything and you are eternally bound to the cellmate from hell that never shuts up like the home end at a Crystal Palace match.

You look OUT at the world, reaching out, wanting. Trapped in the body — fucking claustrophobic hell.

But you have to laugh.

You lick empty flavours like Willy Wonka’s wallpaper — proudly discussing their snozberric complexity like someone who has brushed their teeth with chocolate toothpaste but never heard of a Snickers.

You eat the prison gruel of solid food and shit into the metal dump hole of truth — a symbol of your connectedness to others and your long lost cousin unfabricated euphoric reality.

Thin walls surround you — no more than a mental creation — karmic bricks and mortar that continually propel you to sustain your misery.

You can only inhabit specific phenomena due to your inherent lack of limitation. Your delusion is your freedom.

But only Buddhas know the difference between dwelling and being trapped.

And captivity is so damn normal to those born into it.

Anything else seems like science fiction.

Infinity is straightforward. It is the more believable of the two truths.

It is unfabricated inclusion — totally free of complexity.

Relativity is senseless, and yet, you take it as your default.

Voltaire taught us it is no more surprising to be born twice than to be born once.

The first time you witness the baking of a loaf, it is magic.

The second time, it’s just fucking bread.

But how can you be infinite, such a pitiful human with your ugly features and grotesque body?

Yet, if you assumed yourself to be a doll, you would bitch about your perfect, plastic features instead.

Infinity is the only possibility.

For something to end, there has to be something else after it. Otherwise, it is infinite.
And, if there is something else after it, it’s not an end, is it?

But you think you might go crazy if you try to fit infinity into your tiny head.

So you protect yourself instead.

You nurture relativity — the imaginary wall between yourself and the universe.

You accept your self-imposed destiny to watch the passing show as if you are a caged animal at the zoo.

You accept as normal a life of hellos and goodbyes to that which you already are — the monarch infinity, dressed in the clothes of a wise tramp, always whispering the profound truth as profound profanity.

Listen now.

One day, infinity will seep through the cracks in your karmic mortar, worn down by lack of maintenance. That’s when your tiny head will fall apart.

And, you will realise that infinity is the only true sanity — our home, free from hello and goodbye.

And you will know the difference between dwelling and being trapped.

Everything’s gonna be alright.

Prostrate and breathe.

FTB

And sign up for Medium AKA ‘The Hollywood Boulevard of writing’ would ya? $5 a month to support millions of literary prostitutes like me. Maybe even become one yourself?

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Since everyone is writing open letters

An Open Letter To Humans Stuck in Their Own Heads

Captivity is so damn normal to those born into it

Dearest wanderers, listen.

Infinity is straightforward. It is the more believable of the two truths.

But how can you be infinite, such a pitiful human with your ugly features and grotesque body?

But you think you might go crazy if you try to fit infinity into your tiny head.

Listen now.

More from Frank T Bird:

Will the Next Dalai Lama be a Woman?

From a Buddhist perspective, the answer is not as straightforward as you might think.

The Buddha’s First Teaching Is That Happiness Is Not Possible.

It’s the antithesis of our obsessive self-development culture