Skip to main content

Disenchanted Realities

And suddenly nothing makes sense.

It never did, we just hoped that someday we would be fine or eventually we would get what we needed/wanted. The reality was just disenchanted. 

Every 90's kid was told that one day you're gonna win big, the lies that were fed to us, have eaten us alive. 

We are still hoping for that fairytale romance, a dream job, peace of mind and God knows what. In this economic turmoil, I can't even take care of my expenses let alone the self-care. 

They kept on telling us one day everything was gonna be alright, we would make it, you'll be this, you'll be that. God damn it, I am 28 and I am still here in 2019 - broke, single, inexperienced, living in a rental apartment, own no car and don't ask me about my mental health. 

Each day feels like a losing battle against time. Everything that was told to you, to me, to us, everything was a lie. It never gets better. We are not gonna have our childhood or teenage days back. We are just living dead adults, who thought that someday we might be happy. 

And we are happy, hustling, still not complaining about everything that has gone wrong, we are facing failure with a brave face, and we are sacrificing ourselves but for whom? For whom? For parents, who don't understand us? For partners, who would never do the same for us? For siblings, who would never care for us? For whom, we are doing all of this? 

If we are doing this for ourselves, why aren't we feeling happy? What's that guilt inside us? Why do we still think about each penny we spend, and each word we say while communicating with our loved ones, why second thoughts? Why are we still bottled up? 

So they tell me, it is the test, this life, this world. Why it has to be a test? Why it can't be a simple life? Why it needs to be a test? Why I can't speak my mind here? Why does everyone have to get offended when it doesn't even concern them? 

Why the power politics? Why the religious conflict? Why the economic competition? Why the Machiavellian tactics even in normal lives? Why does it have to be always complicated?

So they tell me to live in the present, and I do. Without worrying about anything, I live in the present. I do my job, I do my chores, I pay my bills, and I live a simple life but still, I am not happy or I don't know I am at a loss when I try to feel emotions. 

I go bold, make tough decisions, and make hard choices but still, I feel nothing. Then I research and get answers to seek happiness from the inside.  I try but I find nothing. 

Just an empty bottle, a vacant vessel, with no emotions, no feelings and no concept of imagination and reality, vice or virtue, wrong or right - when I think, I find everything just a means to control. It gets complicated more than before. 

Everything seems right, everything is wrong; simultaneously, nothing is wrong, nothing is right. Just some perceptions, some thoughts, some philosophy, some psychology, and some people. 

This world is subjective, God created it in the form of a subject, there's no objectivity in it, no meaning, no purpose, just a random subjective approach. Those who live it that way, are the happiest ones on this earth. 

Comments

  1. Though i was also in a despair condition and didn't know how to overcome its pain but now Alhamdulillah i am feeling i ll get the way to explore myself and strengthen my personality

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

In the Abyss of Despair

I lost, when, where and how. I don't know. What did I lose? I don't know. Was I really in the abyss of despair? I had no idea. Maybe a part of myself, a piece of my heart, my soul? I couldn't figure it out. I never would. It was so sudden that I couldn't gather the courage to find it again. Why it was like that? Was I miserable? Or I was just overthinking? Was there any hope for me? Or I was just being overdramatic?  I wanted to scream, I wanted to share, I wanted to yell the hell out of me but I couldn't. How could I? The only thing that kept me alive, was no more with me. Without a soul, the words did not weigh much. I had only words. The words that had kept me alive. Without them, I was nothing, they had lost their impact. I was wondering in the sea of nothingness. My surroundings were nothing but the abyss of pessimism. I could have escaped but there was no need to escape. How could we escape ourselves? In the process of escapism, we lose the essence of the self

A Poem Rumi Forgot To Complete

They ask me who am I. Should this question be asked? Of course not. Sadly, I have no name, it ruins the beauty of mystery. The name does not matter, does it? Many people died without anyone remembering their names. They were incomplete stories, unwritten words, and undiscovered thoughts. I want to remain like that too  because I am a poem Rumi forgot to complete. Today, I choose to write about that incomplete poem. But why I am the poem of Rumi? And not of Shakespeare,  Shah Latif, or Bullhe Shah?  Because Rumi had Shams.  Shams acted as a muse for Rumi. When he started that poem, he lost his muse; thus an incomplete poem was born. An incomplete chaos, an unsolved puzzle, and everything that is lost on the way. We all are someone's Rumi and someone's Shams - doesn't it sound amazing? But in reality, neither you are a Shams nor I am a Rumi. We are those words that were never said loudly. Words that were only thought.  So, starting from this, I finally tried to write about my

The Conflict between Realism and Idealism

No, I am not writing any philosophy here. But, you all have thought of a dream life where no pain exists. No heartbreaks, no fake friends only happiness. It would be wrong to say that I have not thought about it. But my idealism  differs from yours. I have always dreamt of a peaceful mind - a mind which does not think about reality. It also avoids ideas.  Let me simplify this for you. We think that people understand us but in reality, it is exactly the opposite. Here too, the realism  is again contradictory to itself. We communicate our feelings very clearly but still, our emotions are left unheard. This whole idea of our existence is an illusion.  What if I tell you that reality exists in your mind, you see the colours of the world do not exist in reality. It is our mind that makes us see those colours. I perceive the colour of the leaves of a tree as green, but for another person, it is yellow or blue or anything.  "I think therefore I am", Descartes  says. I do not believ