We need Change!
We need a Revolution!
We need to claim our rights!
and the lists of 'needs' keeps on increasing. Could we truly be two different entities in a singularly obsessed world of irregularities? You contradict me point blank and I retaliate with equal ferocity. There's a moment in being when the world stops by for a minute and a soul strikes out. Just the two of us, we can make it try. We need more than one for stirring change.
WHAT IS CHANGE? Seeing the world bending to our whims, catering to our arrogance, bowing in front of us- it is more than this- in our understanding of falling down, bruising our egos, faltering in our steps. Learning from these comparative narratives of metamorphosis. I am surrounded by chaos. An unending whirl of noises and voices confused in their paradoxical worlds enwrapped in a neverending trail of sorrows and disappointments. I feel happy when someone else corresponds to my sense of mangled turbulence. It's all churning there in the exterior and you & I keep rotating by our axes.
It makes no sense to exist without countering the forces of destruction unleashed by our own minds. We keep making rules, abiding by them, punishing the rebels, then rejoicing in a twisted wicked joy about our success. We have ruined ourselves. We demand perfection without understanding the defeat we surrender ourselves to. It's a permanent state of being. Meeting you who questions me on topics I don't question myself on, is a frustrating episode in understanding my psychological variations. I need this meet to emphasis my priorities and the wayward path I tread on, amidst a confused state of being happy and miserable at the same time. Not knowing what brings this unhappiness and its forced presence dampens my enthusiasm that is labelled as excitement. Is it wrong to be happy or excited always? Is that not one's way of dealing with everyday life? Why would I pull a sullen face when I could choose to be brighter than my worries? Each one of us is a morose soul, perfecting our justified existence through well-marked compartmentalised events of daily happenings. We don't mind repetition. It never occurs to us that repetition dulls the splendour of our shining potential. We remain happy accommodating the world and its dour people. Any variation ends up being stricken as unfit.
And yet, here we are. Managing to survive on these unequal planes of daily life. Let's hope my disillusionment and vagueness finds a canal somewhere and steers it to coast, in a sublime state. Because my Buddha questions me critically every minute. It feigns solidarity with the intermingled coexistence of survival each day on its own. Not too long before I break through these mental shackles as well. Till then. Keep fighting.
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