Posts Tagged ‘survival’

The Perpendicular Universe Type Already

It is these moments I feel, kind of empty, when I sit with my laptop and feed my fingers the stiff of the keys, when I have nothing to do, and no clue what to type. There is nothing going on. But I still want to write. Because I love spreading my thoughts somewhere, If not to a keen listener, then to a keen paper. And when I do, it gives me the comfort of a feeling, as if I was able to complete something unfinished. That I just completed a circle. That I am not just half. That I brim with the remaining.

It is one of those hours of the day when I am surrounded with myself. Locked up with my own thoughts, and when I talk to myself through a screen, a keyboard and a paper. I don’t get much of those. Moments alone. Probably because I am always in a company. But sometimes I would like to be alone without hurting people around me. It is not that I don’t want them, but sometimes I want me. It is hard to make people comprehend that I would like some time alone. An hour of solitude is worth an hour of creativity.

May be it is me time. When I talk to myself about how I feel. Even if the feeling reeks of naught. I want to make myself understand, probably put words in my mouth, for an imminent inking, the meaning of life. To put words to a feeling. To put words to things that are mundane and that happen anyhow without me trying. All voluntary acts that we can’t live without. From walking, to talking, to sleeping, to eating, to watching, to hearing, to shitting. Nothing changes. Nothing goes out of the line. The same old routine: to feed the hunger, to scavenge for a livelihood, then at one point populate the earth and fade away. Every single bit we do, we do for survival. That is it. Forage for the extant. Why do we do, what we do? Can’t the world just pass by us while we are lying on the bed? Oh Wait! That happens! It is called dreaming. Then again why can’t it happen when we are awake?

I wish to explore the crazy areas of my head. Where I get ideas that don’t make it. Wish to put them past the finish line. I like the stream of propositions when they go unhindered, in a flow, undeterred by anything living.

This moment I feel free. My thoughts are. I have seen people chained in their mental manacles of thoughts that are mundane, that are either dependent to a person, an outcome of an event, of a situation, of apprehension, of a popular notion, or a wasted reflection of the past. I have nothing to worry about. I wish to stay this way. Wavered by nothing. Don’t wish to create the chain reaction of worldly woes. I would like my ‘me’ time, where there is nothing to write and yet everything to say.

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pointless

Often found myself, stuck, staring at meaningless images and pointless propaganda that my screen throws at me. Times when I am not around people, not having fun, and smothering myself with tasks that show no direction, I wonder what compelled me to do it in the first place. Zeroing in on to figurative, a bigger picture strays ahead that expunges the obvious.

Why are we doing this? What are we to achieve?

Our every act is directed towards nothingness, just another void where everything fades to incoherence. Makes me wonder we are just getting by. We are waiting for it to get over one day. If at the end of the tunnel, did we stop and look back for introspection, we would be surprised to find out, that all we ever did was breathe and survive. Created mundane, lived mundane, for the mundane. What did we really do?

You see our lives, our paths, have been defined by people all around us. Each road, each street, we traverse, our choices, drenched with decisions laid out by another earthly meaningless soul walking amongst us. That mortal has thrown a certain way in front of our eyes, and unfortunately our legs aren’t ears. They don’t listen. They don’t reason. They just walk.

No better way to put it than Leo Tolstoy:

The only absolute knowledge attainable by man is that life is meaningless.

The moment we saw the light for the first time, we became puppets. People who introduced us to the world taught us roads they have been following. Our judgments permeated in their perspective. From dropping a deuce, to combing our hair, from brushing our teeth to taking a bath, every act tainting of ‘a way’, we are supposed to blindly pursue. We go to school. We try to learn things, we don’t comprehend. We spend years to do that. All that precious time, just following something, since we didn’t really have a purpose then! We just have to, in simpler words, survive. We were too dumb to be able to sustain an era, or too immature to understand life – so the experts say. Well, we still don’t, do we?

We are walking on lines, our society drew. Do we have a goal? Are we supposed to just survive? Is that all?

We are only trying to earn a living. If there is nothing more to life than the intent to survive, why do we even bother? All we have to do is eat, sleep and repeat! Some say – we should give back. If we are to give the world something, let’s say an invention, why do they need it at all, and what for? So that they can live easily? Why is survival the penultimate truth?

What is the point of societal conventions then? Would it really matter if we ran destitute or died rich? Would it matter if we were caught in a perennial gloom or a sustained elation then? Would it matter if we lived our lives with or without regrets?

If we repeat a day, every act in it, inadvertently, who is to say that we lived wrong? Didn’t we just, I don’t know, survive another day? Besides who is to judge? What makes our creator a judge? Did you give us a purpose to live? Then how do you get to decide what we do is right or not? Then again, we didn’t ask for this!

We are simply sentient entities thrown into this planet to breathe.A small brain to delegate our creator’s work unconsciously. We are self-aware robots with lots of questions but with only human reasoning to overwhelm our doubts.

This life is a limbo. We must have been in a better place before. Now we are just living a lie, without a purpose, without a point with just a half-hearted wish to coexist, mostly following blind guys who claim to see.