A something about something.
It is the self-destructive man in us that revel. We forget tomorrow, yet we just want everything to end. We are weird, sometimes we want the ends, and sometimes we hate that the end is coming. We capitalize on the past to bear the misery of the present for a fantastic future. Ahhh “Should I drink coffee or should kill myself” do not you think that “Sisyphus” had the perfect ending, so interestingly beautiful. Sisyphus must be truly happy. Do you copy? Maybe it is just some blank infinity, so do not worry yourself.
I have walked this road so many times, the fall, the gloomy cloudy cold weather. It is not the same place, but it feels the same. The same path at least. One may at some point recognize the ending. Yet, one closes his eyes and hope for a better journey at least. It is difficult for one to keep his sanity. It is the pit of self-destructive insanity that I truly fear. I may be fulfilling my self-destructive fantasy of falling in the same exact pit. The funny thing is, I am not redirecting. Oh well, maybe I am. “Do you wonder why I prefer to be alone? Have I really lost control?”
Sometimes, I think that I can be someone else, no what you think. I mean I can blend and get used to the place and time, to the people and the culture, that I feel I lose my own identity. No, I have actually at some point adopted new identities and then lost those too. The so many contradictions in my brain right now is enough to render me with personality disorders. I am brilliantly significant, just as you. And I am brilliantly insignificant, an image of too many faces oddly reflected in a mirror.
Speaking of mirrors. Oh, how I hate and love them at the same time. They speak to me not in images of course, I ain’t yet definitely crazy, I can see no flying Cuckoos near my nest, at least for now. At some point mirrors show the ugly truth with no disguise, they show the emptiness inside us, they show the true naked us. Yet, mirrors build this ugly ego inside of us all. It makes us think how we are beautiful, it poisons our mind with unspoken words. Look how great and beautiful I look today! Look how my hair look perfect! Look at these couple of grey hairs, I am ageing! Look how ugly and fat I am! Pure poison. It is weird how can a mere reflection of one self be toxic and self-harming. "Obsessions lament to freedom"
At other times, I wonder on the notion of free will. Huh, crazy I can hear your thoughts from just reading this. Are we in fact free? Should I let the glass I am holding, it will fall and smash, based on my own free will. Yet, in the course of our life, we do not control all the parameters. It is as if, we have options limited to certain predefined paths. The comprehension of free will is mind dazzling.
We are so inadequately tiny, yet we think we are on top of the world. Oh get out of your small tiny box that you incarcerate yourself and thoughts in. you need to hear my thoughts to understand who I really am, and so am I. The more I know the more I realize how tiny, insignificant I am. How can one be arrogant, when we all are significantly insignificant? Someday I will break my chains, and grow out of my cocoon, or just fall in that inadmissible pit. But for now “Let my own lack of a voice be heard”. “As we pass ever on and away towards some blank infinity” I will keep ranting up until I figure out something about something, or at least maybe.