Routine Solipsism

This is frustrating. I would use the words “Pet Peeve,” but those particular words seem too cliché to encapsulate my frustration fully.

While strolling about Downtown San Jose, I saw seven cigarette butts on the ground in one minute. Under what context would it be appropriate to throw a cigarette butt on the ground? Perhaps if I were a gangster, and I wanted the appropriately chic method of igniting my gasoline-drenched enemies, then I might choose to throw a lit cigarette on the ground. But if I were a smoker, just a regular guy who smokes, I highly doubt I would throw my cigarette butts on the ground.









On a separate but related note: someone who owns two ridiculously loud-barking dogs allows them to urinate in the stairwell next to my domicile. I tried asking this person please to stop with the dog peeing, but apparently it is as hard to train dog owners as the dogs themselves. I'm a dog owner, and I sympathize that sometimes the dog just does his business at inappropriate times. But this stairwell pee is a recurring problem. The owners don't even try to mop up the pee. I cringe when I think of dried urine powder caked into the grooves of my shoes.




The problems boil down to this: solipsism. These people are living in their own worlds. Their actions have no direct consequences on themselves, and in turn, they take no responsibility for the repercussions on the outside world.

These people are probably overall good people. They simply live this particular part of their lives behind a protective pane of glass. The world is visible to them, but they are not affected by its universal energy.

Yes, I will litter as it is someone else's job to pick up my mess. Yes, I will allow my dog to urinate anywhere as long as it's not my own living room floor.

It's time to fight back. I bought a hammer, and I am going to smash through their pane of solipsism.

I'm going to force a funnel down their throats until they gag and make them drink dog piss until their tears have more urea than boorishness.

I'm going to light a cigarette and crush the flaming end of tobacco onto their cheek so it leaves a scar—a cicatrix so rough they will forever remember: The outside world can permeate private selfishness.

Extreme? Good. That's how strongly I feel about this issue.

To those who need to hear this:
I needn’t resort to torture. The outside world should be taken seriously not because the threat of physical pain but because we live in a society, together. We both share the stairwell and Downtown San Jose. I understand and forgive your aberrant mistakes but not your routine solipsism.