Amber morn rays, to
Falling yellow leaves ― changing
Masks; brazen and white.
Amber morn rays, to
Amber morn rays, to
Falling yellow leaves ― changing
Masks; brazen and white.
What is emptiness?
An illusion conjured by a weak mind to shield out its weaknesses, a byproduct of a numb heart that fights off further scars, or the inescapable dungeon that you randomly fall in?
More importantly, how real is the feeling of emptiness; how more real is it, than the purported real world that’s little more than a bunch of colours and sounds; or how less?
These are the questions that a heart lost deep in the tunnels of emptiness churns out to keep itself occupied, half-sure it can’t really find an answer. It doesn’t need an answer, though; all it needs is an obsession to feed itself, and a thought that feeds on it. All it needs is to fill some voids.
As it wonders, the question grows, fuelled by itself, blotting out anything else. It grows to fill out the long-formed voids, wipes the wiry cobwebs and whirs the gears of free thought back to life. It grows, filling the empty spaces.
Where is the emptiness? Had it been real?
What if your emotions are your choosing?
What if you could choose when you want to feel sad, or happy; angry or weird? What if all of emotions and thoughts are just an independent illusion with no direct correlation with the ‘real’ world and its events? Well, that would have been wonderful, won’t it? With your emotions at your disposition, you could choose to be happy whenever you can, even when the whole world pits itself against you.
Well, what if they really are? Guess what, I think they are.
It was about 4 months back that I discovered this simple fact. My emotions are a matter of choice – they are just a bunch of simple illusions, that I am free to play with. As my anecdote goes, I was pitted in a very frustrating and grave situation; which co-incidentally was a replica of a similar situation that happened to me some time ago. Back then, the scene wrecked me off my nerves and rewarded me with a spell of three days of angst, frustration and anger.
This time, maybe because I was a bit preoccupied when the situation presented itself, it was a while before the picture percolated down through my senses, into the sphere beneath my consciousness. And quite unintentionally, I had already pondered over the situation for quite a while and made my choice that it did not deserve to chunk away a share of my emotional energy.
Or, put simply; a very bad thing happened to me, and I chose to remain passive. Result: The next week, I spend happy as ever, if not happier.
This was when I started to get the idea that emotions were really a matter of choice. But this was no more than an ambitious hypothesis; and like any hypothesis – mathematical, physical or philosophical needed further evidence to prove it right. The only test subject I had in disposition, was, alas, myself.
Without elaborating on the testing process — which for an outline, involved attempting to be happy with another disarming situation, attempting to stay grave when I could blow my head in elation, and a myriad of smaller tests — instead – let me tell you my findings – that emotions really are a matter of choice. I could really handpick my emotions, even when they bore no perceivable coherence with the event-horizon surrounding me.
What then, is happening in the with all of us usually? I think, its just that we are unaware of the choice. We are making our choices without even realizing it. Of course, how are we supposed to choose, if we didn’t even know the choice existed, in first place?
However, there is another, more subtler reason why our emotions evade us, and ends up getting the better of us; this one a lot more difficult to handle. This is not about not realizing the choice, but being ‘powerless to choose’. There are moments when you are just to tired to make your stance, or you don’t care – and let the events make the choice for you. The classic example is ‘numbness’, when essentially all you do is spent your days detached – good days and bad may alternate in front of you, without you noticing. All you do is exist and watch, without involving, yourself anchored in some remote delirium. You will know you can end this whenever you choose to – all it takes is a hearty laugh; but you won’t make the choice, you won’t want to.
It’s this situation that’s the hardest to handle. Here, the choice won’t matter. It is really no different from having no choice at all – worse in fact – you will bear the additional burden of knowing about the existence of a choice, which will clobber your already tattered soul even further.
I cannot prescribe a perfect solution to this situation – maybe presence of mind, focusing hard enough can get you out. I myself couldn’t find a solution, a way out, since I got caught in such a pit over two months ago; and to this day since then, my life and thoughts are more a compromise, a deal stricken with the numbness.
However, such situations, I guess, present themselves only sparingly, and for the larger share of your life, you should be able to really choose your emotions without much trouble.
Closing note – choose your emotions. When you give up the choice, even for an instant, the subsequent course your subconscious is made to trace could get too wild to bring back in control.
There was a river that forgot to flow.
It was the spring. Daffodils, roses and a thousand other nameless flowers bloomed beside the river. The nameless flowers smiled at the river from the weeds
they bloomed. The river smiled back. The sky shone – sometimes pink, sometimes azure, and sometimes transparent like the darkness. The river looked at the
sky. Never smiled, neither stared; just kept looking at the sky. Still it did not flow.
Then a bird flew by, it asked why. The river did not heed the call. The river did not smile. And it did not flow.
A thousand birds then flew by. None of the birds noticed the river. None of them smiled, or laughed at it, or cried for it, or asked why. The birds kept flying.
The river kept not flowing – for it had forgotten how to flow.
Time hadn’t forgotten to flow. It did, tumbling sometimes, sometimes slow. Kind and mellow sometimes, ruthless at other. The daffodils wilted, the roses fell to
ground, and the thousand nameless flowers rose to heavens. The birds were gone, so was the spring, what left was the river – that did not flow.
And so did time flow. The river did not flow, across the white ground, devoid of life; besides the shores that bore no daffodils, roses or nameless flowers.
Then it turned pale.
The river turned pale, then white. Crystalline, then solid. Cold, then frozen.
It was the spring again. Daffodils, roses and a thousand other nameless flowers bloomed beside the river. Then the bird flew by – amongst the thousand birds
that never noticed – and asked why.
The Glacier smiled to the bird. “I’m flowing, my darling..”
I wish yesterday be a dream,
Evansce, melt, and lay forgotten.
Wish tomorrow never came –
No hopes nor fears that keeps me taut.
I wish this moment could stay –
This moment, called now
Would dilate, or freeze – and never elapse.
Even as the nows coalesce
Into this hectic scale of time
Whence I walk,
By funny yesterdays
And misty tomorrows.
The idea of this post is simple – I’ve been having sleepless nights for five nights in a row now. No, I’ve not been using steroids, I’m not over-caffeinated, and I don’t sleep my days out. Still I get to spend the better parts of my nights awake.
One of my friends suggested, “that’s probably because there are a lot of unsettled thoughts in your mind” – it true, that my mind is always suscepted to a multitude of thoughts, a better share of them unsettled. But the kind of ‘unsettledness’ he talked here about, an ’emotional overload’, as I put it, is neither my reason too. Emotional overloads are something that I seldom have these days, thanks to the faithful sinusoid my life follows. My mindset is usually left well in balance – no matter however high or low the crests or troughs that I get to ride are.
So it was, the cause of this insomnia that has recently been gripping me, was not easy to find. I soon became aware of the pointlessness of the search, and even, the pointlessness of knowing whatever the cause might be – I then turned to examine what these nights meant to me. Put in the simplest terms, I love these nights – love them so much that I don’t exactly want to fall asleep again.
I love the sights – the pale, translucent darkeness, the calm image of the moon if present, or the placid moonlessness of the sky. And I love the myriad sounds – of the multiple fans whirring; a lonely howl of a loner wolf, the ever-present hum of the mosquitoes that haunt me in a squad that never falls below 6 in number, however hard I try; the occasional groan from the hostel-mate sleeping nearby; the music played by another mate, already fast asleep, who broke his headset and hence chooses to play it loud. I love the way it all feels.
And I love the many things I do during one of these nights. I maybe lying on my back reminiscing and reflecting. Or playing ‘What Hurts the Most’ for the umpteenth time – that is my favorite track recently. Or wading my way through random blogs – it was one of those nights that I found out a blog by a person that calls herself ‘geek’, and fell in love with it. Or doing one of great many things online or offline – no, porn and you-know-what is not exactly what I mean.
But perhaps, the most important factor that makes me want to stay awake is that, for these mighty nightly hours, I get to be ALONE.
Those who know me know, that solitude used to be, and still is, among the best of my friends – and for so long until only lately used to be the only. And lately, I had this trouble of missing my solitude a bit too much, making me feel lost even when I am supposed to have good times with my friends. That state of mind seems to have been cured now, once and for all – by staying awake at the nights, I get the time I need to spend with my best friend – and doesn’t need to miss her or feel lost when I’m with my other friends who are more ‘real’.
I’d say, everyone should spend a night or too sleepless – although, be careful not to get addicted to it like me. There is a lot of miracles that the Night has in store for anyone. Open your mind, and do what it directs you to do – anything from breathing deep and reminiscing, to dancing around the room naked. Be you, be the ‘you’ that even you didn’t know.
That’s all for the day. About the post on emotions, I’ll come up with it probably the coming weekend. As a passing note, this post was supposed to be aired last night, at about 2:00 – unfortunately, my cellphone’s browser turned me down – after typing the entire article, I was stunned to find that the ‘Publish’ and ‘Save’ buttons were not there where they were supposed to be – some kind of script-error, I guess. And hence I now get to type the entire thing all over again, now sitting in an internet-cafe cubicle.
So that’s it, see you soon. Poof.