The Retrenchment of Solitude
We all have dreams...some which we forget the moment we get up, some which we remember, and some which we want to forget but cannot. A few people seem to live the life of their dreams, but then who can actually qualify it as something which they long for? Life, atleast the physical one which we count in breathes, becomes passe when it comes to living it as an experience of illusions. It extends only till the last breath, till the last exhalation, till the last flutter of nose hair. There is no vagueness in this; there is only hollowness to understand.
There is a lot to learn, and a lot to experience. There is a lot to feel, and a lot to emote. There is a lot to give up, including your own self. After all, what is there in your mind other than the myriad network of illusions that seem to take you to a final understanding, but make you lose your path, and squeal in laughter as you search for a way out - laughter which culminates in tears. Tears need not be only as an extension to sorrow, and then need not always find a path out. We cry because we need to, because the storm always needs to let itself out in a downpour. That is the only way it can handle itself, isn't it? And whatever we do in life, the result is always associated with a storm that brews in our soul. Do you still think tears are only for sorrowful reasons?
Pathetically, we have become machines, and hiding our emotions is what we expect and is expected from us. We are not even half the humans we were supposed to be. And as I already said before, the only life we live is the physical one. We have become detached from our own selves. We cannot share our feelings any more, not even to self. We are expected to remain emotionally disconnected with the most important people in our life. We are regularly told not to haunt the psyche of others. What are we, if not islands in the sea of all-knowing yet ignorant humanity?
When was the last time you smiled through your heart, and not just with a curl of lips to emote a frozen smile. When was the last time you loved, and loved, and not questioned the reality of that love. When was the last time you cried over a fallen butterfly, and smiled with wonder at another one, all in the same breath, and yet didn't fake a single of these emotions. When was the last time you removed all masks, and told a person what they really mean to you. And when was the last time you just tried to be a human.
Solitude, it is time I kill you. I no longer want to be away from myself.
We all have dreams...some which we forget the moment we get up, some which we remember, and some which we want to forget but cannot. A few people seem to live the life of their dreams, but then who can actually qualify it as something which they long for? Life, atleast the physical one which we count in breathes, becomes passe when it comes to living it as an experience of illusions. It extends only till the last breath, till the last exhalation, till the last flutter of nose hair. There is no vagueness in this; there is only hollowness to understand.
There is a lot to learn, and a lot to experience. There is a lot to feel, and a lot to emote. There is a lot to give up, including your own self. After all, what is there in your mind other than the myriad network of illusions that seem to take you to a final understanding, but make you lose your path, and squeal in laughter as you search for a way out - laughter which culminates in tears. Tears need not be only as an extension to sorrow, and then need not always find a path out. We cry because we need to, because the storm always needs to let itself out in a downpour. That is the only way it can handle itself, isn't it? And whatever we do in life, the result is always associated with a storm that brews in our soul. Do you still think tears are only for sorrowful reasons?
Pathetically, we have become machines, and hiding our emotions is what we expect and is expected from us. We are not even half the humans we were supposed to be. And as I already said before, the only life we live is the physical one. We have become detached from our own selves. We cannot share our feelings any more, not even to self. We are expected to remain emotionally disconnected with the most important people in our life. We are regularly told not to haunt the psyche of others. What are we, if not islands in the sea of all-knowing yet ignorant humanity?
When was the last time you smiled through your heart, and not just with a curl of lips to emote a frozen smile. When was the last time you loved, and loved, and not questioned the reality of that love. When was the last time you cried over a fallen butterfly, and smiled with wonder at another one, all in the same breath, and yet didn't fake a single of these emotions. When was the last time you removed all masks, and told a person what they really mean to you. And when was the last time you just tried to be a human.
Solitude, it is time I kill you. I no longer want to be away from myself.
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