Fight
The only word that seems to always make sense. The only word that I don't want to hear, because I am afraid it would need me to move my arse.
Having gone through a phase of being a perfect consumer, I have come to observe something. There is content that makes you smile, cry, be frustrated, rejoice, hope or feel good - that's just drama. They know what they are doing. There are page turners, and those that hit you hard and make you pause and think. In the end though, you move on to the next one.
But every once in a while something comes along and makes you want to fight. Fight for yourself, fight back. Save yourself from becoming merely a consumer, but stand up and be part of life. Or just be something.
In the past I had many such moments. During those impulsive moments, I have made step changes to the course of my life. These days however, it is hard to come by anything or anyone that moves me that much. Is it because I am not paying attention? The world outside seems to only affect me on the surface. Like no wound is deep enough. Like everything is a mere moment, disappearing before it even takes a concrete shape.
Is it that the pace of life is such, we have to fit in too much in too less a time?
Or is that time is only an illusion?
Am I running out of excuses?
It is silly to look for an excuse to want to claim back your life, right?
At this point I will accept even a short return of faith. Because there really is no point in life, if we don't fight any more. Fight to be something.
Alas, that's the only word that makes sense, after all.
p.s. After my previous mournful account of one sided love, I guess I should have taken the time to at least say that it was not all that unrequited after all... I guess I was not rejected. For more than a year, I thrived in that joy and even today, I am not sad. I am grateful for the acceptance, and for being loved back by the place I fell so in love with. Today's monologue is not about feeling sorry for myself, but on the contrary it is because of the love and acceptance that I have always received in life, I always feel I am not living up to the expectation from myself. Like I know I can do more, but I choose to vegetate at times, and make silly excuses to justify vegetating like saying 'it's only organic'.
The only word that seems to always make sense. The only word that I don't want to hear, because I am afraid it would need me to move my arse.
Having gone through a phase of being a perfect consumer, I have come to observe something. There is content that makes you smile, cry, be frustrated, rejoice, hope or feel good - that's just drama. They know what they are doing. There are page turners, and those that hit you hard and make you pause and think. In the end though, you move on to the next one.
But every once in a while something comes along and makes you want to fight. Fight for yourself, fight back. Save yourself from becoming merely a consumer, but stand up and be part of life. Or just be something.
In the past I had many such moments. During those impulsive moments, I have made step changes to the course of my life. These days however, it is hard to come by anything or anyone that moves me that much. Is it because I am not paying attention? The world outside seems to only affect me on the surface. Like no wound is deep enough. Like everything is a mere moment, disappearing before it even takes a concrete shape.
Is it that the pace of life is such, we have to fit in too much in too less a time?
Or is that time is only an illusion?
Am I running out of excuses?
It is silly to look for an excuse to want to claim back your life, right?
At this point I will accept even a short return of faith. Because there really is no point in life, if we don't fight any more. Fight to be something.
Alas, that's the only word that makes sense, after all.
p.s. After my previous mournful account of one sided love, I guess I should have taken the time to at least say that it was not all that unrequited after all... I guess I was not rejected. For more than a year, I thrived in that joy and even today, I am not sad. I am grateful for the acceptance, and for being loved back by the place I fell so in love with. Today's monologue is not about feeling sorry for myself, but on the contrary it is because of the love and acceptance that I have always received in life, I always feel I am not living up to the expectation from myself. Like I know I can do more, but I choose to vegetate at times, and make silly excuses to justify vegetating like saying 'it's only organic'.
No comments:
Post a Comment