Posts Tagged ‘create’

The Perpendicular Universe The Cubicle

I dream for an open field. There is a wild run in me. But there is no ground to tramp on. I don’t see it. Even if it is there, I am blind to it.

My life is a cubicle. It begins in walls and ends right there. I am bound by the charms of the green. But I wish it was a meadow, and that I was free to gallop wild. Free to dart my way to search the end of it.

Every day begins with me trying to adjust my fading eyes to a computer screen. I am locked. I am compelled to. There is no escape from the life I have chosen. If there is, then maybe I am blind to that too. Or pretending that I can’t see, because I have a sea of responsibilities to swim into. Or make a living out of this dead.

Day in and day out I follow the same ritual of turning the office desktop on, checking my mails for updates, attending meetings to show the ground I have covered, having lunch when I am not hungry, making small talks that are pointless and will be forgotten, working like a workhorse to make people in the other corner of the world happy, living a misery to help build someone something I don’t give a shit about, slaying the universe’s most useful gem – time just so that everything moves on and I age to perish one day, and then repeating the whole cycle again because there is no end to this.

What I live is misery. This is someone else’s dream. I am the tiniest mote to him. It wouldn’t matter to anyone if I fall one day. They will have someone to replace my body. Because my mind doesn’t reach anywhere. It is being forced to run in a mill, where churning thoughts is a curse and of no use to anyone.

I can feel the force of this psychotic world pulling me down. This isn’t gravity, No! This is the worst. It keeps on pulling you, one piece at a time, till there is nothing left. If you had a dream it would make sure you lose your mind. It would subject you to so much pressure that you would forget life is supposed to be easy. It would swallow you in its jaded shenanigans that you would not remember what real fun is supposed to be like. It would drown you into its silent waters, take you deep down to hell, and you would never know if there was supposed to be a heaven too.

I just wish there was no one that pulled my strings. That I create something because I feel like building. That I eat because I feel hungry. That I dance because I feel like dancing. That I look at a screen because I wish to surf and have fun. That I check my mails to see another world. That I play because I feel like having a blast. That I have talks that numb minds and emanate something useful every time I do. That I pamper myself because I deserve it.

But alas! I am stuck in a cubicle. My life is it.

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I have always toyed with the idea of hell. Our ancestors have nailed it in our brains. We follow what is taught, and conventions, I take unmatched pleasure in breaking.

The first thing that comes to our mind, when we hear the H word, are snakes all around, darkness, silence, ugly creatures, monsters, abyss and what not. (You almost made it devil!) But here I would like to imagine something different. Let hell be just like hell, only a little bit more realistic if not theatrical.

I have had had days, when nothing would go right. I would fall, scratch myself unknowingly, hurt myself mentally, lose my temper every now and then, curse, cuss, break things reluctantly and then sulk for the rest of the day. Au contraire, there have been days when I would feel that I am on top of the world, create, do useful things, do things that would make others happy, me happy, win all games, gain, laugh, love and live.

You see where this is going, right? Yeah!

Whatever things we have ever defined, of which we are afraid of, are actually creations of our fears. They are an outcome of what we should be afraid of. They have confined us from exploring the unexplored. Ghosts would never have existed, if the notion of fear wasn’t there.

We haven’t seen it. It is only in our talks. All events breaking loose could be analogous to how hell could have possibly been in reality. If hell would have existed, it could have entailed series of unfortunate events happening one by one in quick succession, giving no room to sanity. Commotion. Sheer ruckus. That is how I like to keep the old theory breathing.

Nobody wishes to experience their weird imagination. People have just followed their mind’s projections to feel the angst and suffering. They already know it is not good. Why would they ever want to go there? People simply fantasize. Just how a kid does. Daydreaming a deadly fiery battle with a dragon. At least I do. I would always have my hidden blades with me. I would often fight monsters with a Katana. Now that is another story.

To sum it up, I would rather quote that great man, of whom I often speak in high regards. He wrote this about ‘hell’ somewhere:

It is reality. Just messed up with uncertainty and confusion. Just doomed by odd decisions and their aftermath. It is reality, simply stained with negative events. That is how I like to picture it. Because our fantasies are merely our mind’s projections. Hell as they describe it, is just the projection of their fears and my world has no room for it.

Kudos! great man. Yeah, that’s me again. 😛