:::all things bright and beautiful:::


Jaded

I hate routine. Anything which repeats and I start to feel like I’m compelled to do it is routine for me. I’ve been blue off and on the past few days and I didn’t understand why even the blues were visiting me almost as a routine.

Today I did.

It’s not only my external life that has settled to a predictable pattern … but also my internal life. The freedom, which was ever present in my life either overt or covert, has disappeared and I have no one but myself to blame for the loss of my mind’s freedom. Gone are the days when my mind would wander…invincible. Flit from one thought to another following no pattern whatsoever. Now I have discovered I’m J..J.jaded (like the aerosmith number) .. no new thoughts no new flights of fancy...

So I guess what I’m trying to say is….HELP!!

Eros and Thanatos

Everything in this world is a result of two forces. Nothing new there. But everything? Even the process of birth… a process of push and pull. To point a few others - light & the absence of it (dark), harmony & chaos, desire and the absence of it. Then is it really a surprise that somedays you feel in love with the world, life and yourself, and somedays you just want to unexist… not just you, you want the entire world and yourself to unexist.

So how does intellect and the mind react to it? The mundane cycle of creation and destruction? It tries, to hide in the feelings that are a result of this friction. It creates illusions of a mystery around its environ and then sets about trying to decode or demystify it.

But what does one do when instead of staying in the microcosm the mind wanders out to take the macro view of things? Its not being fixated about death…it has just detached itself from the magic of life…much like a person in a cinema hall who in the most intense moments of the storyline, realizes its just a 2D screen projection and some light playing on a canvas.
Ain’t that sad!

Morbid or hyper-realistic?

All goodbyes and tears. Mixed emotions – excitement, fear, and sadness. And all I could think about were the lines on their faces. Marking them. Much like the circular markings on trees.

All I could think about was the impermanence of it all. Of degeneration. Of not being at all.

If life’s like a movie, then these intense thoughts really take you away from the main story and give you the aerial shot of the entire drama.

All I could think about was the passage of time in a fast forward mode where they would be dust again.

What’s the purpose of man on earth? Why live? The ancient texts say life is to be lived as one’s duty (to God) and every deed or action is to be performed with detachment. Then what’s the point of living? Isn’t it the biggest compromise? Refusing to feel. Refusing to believe the clear illusion.

All I could think about was death.




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