I had never considered the possibility,of living life, walking lightly on this earth, I always pictured a constant race with time, before I fall into oblivion, before death embraces me, I wanted to leave a mark, I thought that was the entire point of life, for a life to be meaningful, for it to be fulfilling, you needed to invent, create or leave something behind , perhaps an idea , a book, fight a war or draw a geographic border, and leave earth after doing your bit, a tiny speck of change. I thought about all those lives extinguished, not cleopatra or aristotle, ones who weren’t written about or ones who’s names disappeared into time , into some singularity of space, never to be met again, I thought of them as a waste, an unnecessary burden on earth. I have been living in a constant pressure, a dull ache always residing in my consciousness, to not be one of those nobody’s who just drift off into space, living life like it came by. But maybe, perhaps, I should reconsider.Perhaps my concentration is misplaced. It is not the future and doing something and making a career and changing the world and proving that it is not indeed spherical but a flat disc with curved edges, warped in such a way that it reverses time and brings you back to where you were, no, what I need to be concentrating on is finding what I like to do and doing that one thing right. Which also means Do LESS. This probably goes against the every day notions and unrelenting lectures of your parents during breakfast but it shall keep me happier. Everytime my mother scolds my sister for doing something wrong, I feel this unconscious but swiftly creeping added pressure of doing that very thing right and much more, I do not want to be another disappointment to them. I want to get it right. Apply this analogy to a wider expanse and you will see humans are born with such instincs, such brilliance in creation, it forces you , after the collapse of so many meaningless lives in the lap of mother nature, it forces you to program yourself into not being another disappointment. Is it your parents, you owe it to? Perhaps your creator then, you are created for a reason, to fulfil your destiny, in quest of something, with a gift of some kind, what if all this was absolute bullshit? Just some words of wisdom convincing enough to lead generations of men astray. Leaving a mark, being noticed, being remembered, why are we all so obsessed with it? Why do we all fear going unnoticed? For the more people notice us, the more they appreciate us, admire our work, the more they shall be chained by their human tendencies to search for our flaws with a practiced eye of a butcher chopping off the mutton or the surgeon incising the stomach lining, they shall search, restless and passionate, for never is a human being more passionate than when searching for fatal flaws in another, the more you rise, or try to rise in people’s eyes, the more they will constantly reduce you in their eyes, the moment you turn away. And we are children of God. We share the same DNA. He shares this hamartia, life can never be the straight laced smooth stairway to heaven, no, it is a long narrow winding road, not even a road, a tightrope. and God directs our life. And life shows off to you, its plumassary, all those ornamental feathers, each bearing a different colour, whetting your appetite with the most ravishing dishes, have you fly on a paradise which slowly dissolves the instant before you hit the pavement, it all keeps going, pain demands to be felt, happiness demands to slip away before you can say to yourself – that was one hell of a ride. so while joyrides continue to be a privilege only those in white mansions eating heavenly delights, bathing in heavenly lights looking down on the mortals enjoy, it teaches you one thing: you show off to life, you screw around with it, try to make something out of it and most of the time it shall screw you right back, over and over, what a bloody slut. Then it will give you what you want, it will make you the president of the country after you have been stripped off of all your ideals, your vigour, belief in the justice system, it will grant you the topmost grade in class, leave you feeling more relieved than happy because you had studied your ass off, and any less then that grade would have left you feeling like a loser who wishes the earth was flat so he could walk off to the end of it and jump right down to the abyss of the universe. Puppets? Clowns? Toys? No. DOGS, we are dogs in the hands of that bitch.
Walk lightly on earth. Why dont we do that? Mind our own business. Stop comparing, stop competing, stop trying to be noticed. Be like butterflies.