Thoughts- weird, eccentric, random, ghastly- wake me up early, every morning. They cloud my dawn; in a semi-awake state as my eyes try to grope for consciousness. The lower portion of my skull feels heavy; I have a feeling that is where my sub-conscious is located; it makes its presence felt; and I acknowledge it. Paralysed by this torrent of brain pulses whose origin I can not trace; whose purpose I do not know, I lay in this state as my physical self tries to construct the solidity that exists but has been slightly bent out of shape by my semi-conscious mind. In those moments of random cogitations I defy what space and time might mean to a trained and educated mind.
I leave my bed; I switch on the lights of my room. 8.30 am- it's too early by my standards. Strangely, the familiar coziness that my pillow used to offer is a distant past. I look at the mirror. My disheveled hair speak of the night and the loneliness that it brought along. I look at my blood shot eyes; they are the same; they are still mine and they return my gaze unhindered, unrestricted, uninhibited; and reassure me that indeed I haven't been kind to them, yet they'll not hesitate to respond to me in case I need a reality check.Words of Douglas Adams ricochet in my head- You live and learn. At any rate you live...
Existence has often perplexed me. I am not a biologist; but I have often felt that it is slightly apathetic to classify humans as a bundle of nerves and elements. Is it possible that we are just thought waves or extensions of a previous thought wave that has come and gone by? Uniqueness is a rarity and in truth most of us are living, breathing cliches.
Mental isolation piques me; I am a thought extending like the horizon in the hope of meeting my zenith; like a desolate neuron trying to bridge the synapse that separates it from its kin, I reach out with my dendrons. This is also existence, and I must know it as it is.
I am a thought that will not die; I am an idea that will live and spread. I exist because I chose not to fade away. I am undefeated; I am unafraid; I am myself- unique, pure, chaste.
I am the Invictus.
2 comments:
" I look at my blood shot eyes; they are the same; they are still mine and they return my gaze unhindered, unrestricted, uninhibited;..."
In my opinion you are fortunate to experience that; I haven't heard many people claim to feel the same every morning.
It's not a question of fortune or misfortune, but more of who we are and what we want to become. If there exists an apparent conflict between the two, there is self deception and only then can we not meet our own eyes.
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