Life is not working out the way it should. It's supposed to be objective. Absolute. And it's not. Hence it's not working the should way.
Contradiction is the undercurrent. Contradiction is all that floats on the surface. I have a love-hate relationship with I. And with everything around and inside I. The love-hate rapport is very glaring, very obvious. It puts all at unrest. Attempted escapades fail. There is no way, but to stare at the contradiction point blank.
I do not want to love anything. I want to love nothing. The process of trying to achieve that is very challenging. Maintaining that state of loving nothing is like splitting myself into many halves and ensuring a hellish death for each half. My failure at it is ludicrous. Because I secretly love all the things I pretend to hate. I am not designed not to love. Love is a natural obviousness. But I want it not to be that way. And I want to hate. I try so desperately to hate that in the constant struggle between the opposite forces of love and hate, neither gives up. The chaos is ever escalating, the plight, indescribable.
I lose self belief. Which is all I want to retain at the end of the day. Honestly, and as selfishly as you can imagine, I want my life to be only and only about me. In existentialism, I trust. But that isn't workoutable. Hence the struggle, the love-hate, the angst, the asphyxic screams, the throttling of heartbeats, the contradiction and the jaded fight against it. Hence the plight.
Contradiction is the undercurrent. Contradiction is all that floats on the surface. I have a love-hate relationship with I. And with everything around and inside I. The love-hate rapport is very glaring, very obvious. It puts all at unrest. Attempted escapades fail. There is no way, but to stare at the contradiction point blank.
I do not want to love anything. I want to love nothing. The process of trying to achieve that is very challenging. Maintaining that state of loving nothing is like splitting myself into many halves and ensuring a hellish death for each half. My failure at it is ludicrous. Because I secretly love all the things I pretend to hate. I am not designed not to love. Love is a natural obviousness. But I want it not to be that way. And I want to hate. I try so desperately to hate that in the constant struggle between the opposite forces of love and hate, neither gives up. The chaos is ever escalating, the plight, indescribable.
I lose self belief. Which is all I want to retain at the end of the day. Honestly, and as selfishly as you can imagine, I want my life to be only and only about me. In existentialism, I trust. But that isn't workoutable. Hence the struggle, the love-hate, the angst, the asphyxic screams, the throttling of heartbeats, the contradiction and the jaded fight against it. Hence the plight.
3 comments:
wish der was a way out to calm d angiush of dis love-hate relationship... liked it!
ok.. what is life?
a heart spraying bloods in the brain and painting mind.. the heart according to the situation beats and pumps blood..
a stinct called intution links the heart with the soul.. yes.. that alone makes the heart as puppet and heart makes the mind as puppet..
anything towards which the mind is leading is - LIFE!
the leading, searching etc etc always ended with sorrows and pains..
the love is not a search or findout.. but it is a happening and it always exceeds the mechanism of soul-intution-heart-blood-mind..
don't try.. it may happen..
(feel - me wrote too long!)
Anonymous!
There is no way out, some of us are designed to be slightly dissatisfied with life, let's be proud.
arvind
You remind me of a character from one of my favorite novels, I don't get a word of what you say! But you do buy me plenty of laughs :)
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