Introspection

I am lonely. As lonely as a human being can get. Its ‘no interaction with the outside world for a week’ lonely. I live in my own world. This world is interesting but it doesn’t have much interaction. It’s cold.

Perhaps this cold is not too much unwarranted. I have experienced warmth but certainly it wasn’t too comforting either. I feel like I am swaying in the limbo trying to make sense of it all. I guess why nothing ever makes sense is because nothing is ever stationary - both literally and metaphorically. Just as you think you have figured it all out, the game changes, the rules change and the opponent changes. It’s always a clean slate, and no matter what you write on it, the slate doesn’t change itself. Is it all that there is to life, a stateless Slate?

As I sit here and contemplate, the world is running madly in circles, for it never stops, it can never stop. If I were to look at it from its past, the contemporary world is amazing. We are living the progress, the last generation imagined. The people are jubilant, they have got what they promised to themselves over the centuries. The world is finally free, even if to be enslaved again. But, if I were to look at it all from the future, all kinds of bondages would be removed; all the bondages of oppression, true ; but the bonds of humanity too.

So I surmise I may be living in the future. What was alive that is dead now? I reveled so much in my individual that I forgot my origins, my community, my environment. My ego killed my treasured compassion that inspired me to aspire for the unachievable. I try to fix myself with the promised elixir of love. But I can’t. I am not the same person in silence. In silence, I am a beast with a burden, the burden to present what I resent. I am the dark of night glowing through my silence for what is complete in itself is just the void.