As the mind chaos strips you daily, you become a mystic, a sleepless monk. Rich with creativity, drawn to philosophy. Liberal is not just a word, its obligatory. You look out for those rhythms, that mind wave and seek a resonance, similar yet different. Imagination can drive you mad, yet the essence of creativity is lost on most people. It’s not just depression. Depression fuels it with disdain, mania infuses it with energy, conversations though keep the sanity in check. Intellectual debates are triggers to reach a better understanding. We live and breathe the same air and live on the same earth, yet we surround ourselves with labels and borders and shields of all kinds. It’s a real matrix, it’s around us, subliminal. We are born lonely, we exist for ourselves. Everything we do is a quest to understand the meaning of our existence. Loneliness is a privilege not something to bemoan. Just like any other experience. So we have to be like a river that makes its own path as it flows to its destination. Not a straight road laced with mainstream, generic crap. We categorize everything in labels:- gender, sex, politics even human nature. It’s the fear of the unknown, the fear of our own mortality. We are all scared of death, phantoms of the past that we can’t change, chained to the future that scares us, scared of this moment as it passes away. Its gone….this chunk of time. I don’t know what it was:- between the infinite and infinitesimal, lies a vast gap of numbers, numbers that we made up. Yet there is a commonality, commonality of fear, fear of the endless and the unknown. As we break records, we find more numbers, numbers in space, numbers in pulses of time. Yet this chunk of time is gone, what was it? A picosecond, an attosecond? Yet there was creativity in it, Pandora’s box. This tiny fragment may hold clue to my consciousness. Its gone but there will be another one, as another thought pattern bursts forth.
Check more of my stuff on my website or facebook page.