I struggle with metaphors as I see things as they were and as they were ought to be, crumbling, in a fashion, terrible to say the least. Somewhere in between the loathed reality and cherished goal, all of a sudden a fissure has turned up. Something challenging, in a daunting manner, the very premises of the conscious existence. It might have been propelled by some certain recent experiences but that just is the lit match to the box, which is, as it now seems a teeming pool of unintelligible matter. Often have I come across the warnings on sharp turns, which loosely translates into, "Focus deviated is when accidents happen".
And life is one sharp turn too. One may never have his cards on the uncertain, and open up ways for troubles to destroy whatever little is certain in this Absurd life. Hope and despair are just states of mind, but these states of mind are build with the matter that we can manage to get into the abstract faculties of our minds. So in a situation where the entire matter makes no sense, as if it was all alien, how am I supposed to first figure out the exact state of my mind and secondly to seek a remedy to kick start the healing process. To know the medication, we must first need to what the problem is. This state of the lack of knowledge of what one feels makes one entirely indifferent to the joys and sorrows of life. You can never be sad, but that shouldn't be reason for happiness, because with equal measure of probability you can't be happy either. How it feels to be indifferent? It's when you have no reason to be sad and all around you are happy and you also want to live the moment, but you just can't, or, for example take this also, you have no reason to be happy and all to be sad but you aren't able to be that too. The 'spiritualists' often keep yelling of vague state of minds such bliss and self-control, who might in reality know a zilch about the actuality of what they say, really know not what they say. They peddle their, prior apologies for rude register, 'Hogwash', and are often very successful in this pursuit because the truth is that the much who buy into this live in a delusional sense of higher consciousness, which is just a natural mental protection against the stark gloomy reality that we all are but very simply 'confused'. God looks like an ideal remedy, but in the presence of the truth of its absence, the reason leaves no stone unturned to find a meaning to our existence and then try to get at the heart of it. All this to experience the sense of purpose and completion. As if this journey, apparently devoid of any destination, is terribly fatiguing and we just want to know where we ought to be and try to be there at the earliest. But when failed to dissect a purpose, Man tries to make up one, because the the journey is tiring and should soon end, and for an end to be, there needs to be some destination, achieving which might give the sense of completion convincing enough to rest and stop wandering like a child stranded in desert.
And life is one sharp turn too. One may never have his cards on the uncertain, and open up ways for troubles to destroy whatever little is certain in this Absurd life. Hope and despair are just states of mind, but these states of mind are build with the matter that we can manage to get into the abstract faculties of our minds. So in a situation where the entire matter makes no sense, as if it was all alien, how am I supposed to first figure out the exact state of my mind and secondly to seek a remedy to kick start the healing process. To know the medication, we must first need to what the problem is. This state of the lack of knowledge of what one feels makes one entirely indifferent to the joys and sorrows of life. You can never be sad, but that shouldn't be reason for happiness, because with equal measure of probability you can't be happy either. How it feels to be indifferent? It's when you have no reason to be sad and all around you are happy and you also want to live the moment, but you just can't, or, for example take this also, you have no reason to be happy and all to be sad but you aren't able to be that too. The 'spiritualists' often keep yelling of vague state of minds such bliss and self-control, who might in reality know a zilch about the actuality of what they say, really know not what they say. They peddle their, prior apologies for rude register, 'Hogwash', and are often very successful in this pursuit because the truth is that the much who buy into this live in a delusional sense of higher consciousness, which is just a natural mental protection against the stark gloomy reality that we all are but very simply 'confused'. God looks like an ideal remedy, but in the presence of the truth of its absence, the reason leaves no stone unturned to find a meaning to our existence and then try to get at the heart of it. All this to experience the sense of purpose and completion. As if this journey, apparently devoid of any destination, is terribly fatiguing and we just want to know where we ought to be and try to be there at the earliest. But when failed to dissect a purpose, Man tries to make up one, because the the journey is tiring and should soon end, and for an end to be, there needs to be some destination, achieving which might give the sense of completion convincing enough to rest and stop wandering like a child stranded in desert.
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