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Existential pointlessness.

I don’t know why i run here every time; every single time i find myself writing as though my mind cries here and lays all its worries and the weight of the world; right here. I find myself creating and expressing what i cannot spell out as eloquently to anyone, at least not without breaking apart.

So i need and long and want so much, just as so many others do. But it is rare that i admit such weaknesses. It is rare that i stand and give myself out so bare and undisguised. It takes faith, it takes belief and belonging to give yourself out in such manner to anyone. how do you trust? how do you know? how do you believe what anyone says to you? for what is deceit in the end of the day but a let down from someone you trusted. So simple yet so damaging.

Then come love, the greatest confusion of all. the strongest and most liberating yet suffocating situation one can ever fall into. The impossible becomes a plan, and a very plausible one which will get you even more tangled in the thoughts, limitations and benefits of such commitment. It builds you bigger and stronger. But it keeps grabbing you by the neck, any wrong move you make or even more simply the moment it decides to leave, it breaks your neck, along with everything else that was. You then are left. Simple.

What is it? what is it that drives us to such destructive situations? We dive so willfully and joyfully as though experience has not slapped us right in the face over and over. Is it that pathetic need for belonging that makes us so weak as to want to relate to anything and everything. A believer relates to God, for he has found the most glorious bond. But isn’t that nothing but a psychological man-made relationship? A lover relates to his beloved, for he has figured out eternal passion; at least until one of them decides to leave. So what is divine in such finished a world? What is pure and true? What is genuine but a sad truth? What truth is there when we are children of conflict and death? Who is right and who is wrong?

What is forever, but a longing for the impossible? When do we give up and realize the joke of it all? When do we own up to our fear of never knowing and admit that there is no point but what we decide to make of it.

So we go to the secret places inside our minds and souls, we hide all our doubts and pains inside, lock up and get out to the world. Nothing but because people do not like misery, they love happiness and simplicity, they love aloofness and everything physical. They run away from the real abstract and end up living in one they have made up and imagined all alone. They close the doors behind them and forget where they hid their secret place. They shy away from hard truths and embrace simple instinctual habits. They have no need for existential bullshit. For life is no more but being born suddenly opening your eyes to a world you have not chosen to enter, you then are blessed with a brain that gets developed and screwed with by people and emotions. You then exit the way you entered unasked and unwelcome.

Life is a liability, death is not a choice either. So exit as you came in, bare and frail. Fragile to the core but with a brain made just to piss you off, some sort of teaser. It gets you places but then there is no way back , you can never not know something you know. It is there forever more.

So at the end of the day you end up writing about some existential pointlessness on a very commercial blog, which will probably never get you anywhere in life.

I end this with saying, the greatest joys come from simple minds and imagination.

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Little monsters

Spinning round and round until you feel so unbalanced that you fall to the floor with your little hands and small figure. You then get up and do it again. The wonder of it!
Running in the house jumping over imaginary objects and sliding through makebelieve worlds. Unleashing your wild side and walking on the narrow edges of furniture..
Losing yourself under the sun between trees and dirt, scraping your knees when blending with the world.
Do kids have any imagination today? Or do video games and gadgets define their realms of reality?
Does childhood have any essense to it today when children and men share common worries?
Do children judge eachother on the basis of how far one can throw a ball, or do they form groups according to social and religious standards.
When did children know so much of this world and so little of their own? When did we let ourselves push through those gates of innocence and into the worlds of material.
I am a child, a 20 year old one if i might say, i am more of a child than my 8 year old cousins. Atleast when i see a cat i pet it, i dont hurry and snap a picture of it. When i see a puddle of water i splash my foot into it instead of moving aside not to get my new sneakers dirty.
And excuse me lady gaga is not an idol for a childhood and will never be, for if someone who has so literally set the grounds for what weird is, she got it wrong. That is, she became a cliche herself and children are fascinated by her sexual insinuations rather than any monstrosity she claims to have.
I do not fear the future, i am actually so excited to see what the little monsters will make of our trash of a world.

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Ideal was it?

Ideal was it? That was the word you used. Too generic i suppose to describe an uncertain situation such as love. Well, Why rephrase now? Shouldnt you have thought about a more proper name before? So..
When did you stop seeing through her? What changed? Did her eyes tell less? Or were your words far from indulging?
Did the spark get so tame that you found ash instead? What made you so certain in the first place? How could you promise a person the same feeling and the same level of appreciation for an undefined time. What gives you the power to overwhelm the logic you both had by such fragile surfaces. Where did it all go?
Then again, few things ever make sense so enough with the questions. Lets reverse and maybe how it begins is all it takes. To surrender your imagination to a wild rampage of emotions is beautiful, but to surrender yourself into another person is hope, it is determination and the core of infatuation. To give your self to her is need, it is urgency and terror. It is connecting your path with hers; whatever and however the collision happens, you have locked her into you.
What happens if you keep that in mind all the time?
Would her eyes need to say more ? Or would that collision have said it all to begin with…