How this feels…

This was written a long while ago

Ever wonder what compels a person to go to bed every night wishing that they wouldn’t see tomorrow? Lay in bed and watch the clock as the seconds tick by, turn into minutes and the minutes turn into hours?
Maybe its fear of bad outcomes, dread about something upcoming, maybe its immense physical or emotional pain or maybe the person is just psychotic?

But what if it is none of the above? What if its something very ironic – what if for this person, time doesn’t mean seconds, minutes, hours, days or months, but they are stuck in a moment where time has come to standstill? So this person is alive, but not really living? That the tomorrow of tonight is simple a promise betrayed?
A normal person would love to be in a timeless existence and to keep to themselves and do whatever they want while having their clothes, food, shelter, and even their laundry done for them. But what if this person isn’t normal? What if they have great potential, extraordinary intelligence and a noble character underneath a brittle surface? And what if instead of doing what they were born to do, they desperately seek solace and comfort in things they wouldn’t normally do?

What happens when the ones closest to you, the ones that gave birth to you and the ones that claim to love you and stand by you forever, betray you in a way that you question every existing relationship? Why are virtual strangers in distant lands apparently privy to your most intimate emotions more so than those who claim to know you in person but don’t really know anything about you? What happens when life and time begin to move virtually? When you only live and think in a timeless virtual existence, much like the Phantom Zone?
Is it better than the daily struggles of life? Working 8-5, coming home to cook and clean, tending to people and relationships?

To top it off, what happens while you are in the Phantom Zone and the people around you are on a different time plane, and continue to be moronic and ask stupid questions that you can answer more intelligently even without being in their world?

What if you know your potential will always remain inside and buried, slowly killed off by dispassion due to the timeless existence? Freedom means another place, another time, another identity, another type of society, another mode of production – the combination of impossible anomalies.

This brings up a compelling question. Is life really than an imprisonment? Vacations, chocolates, television sets and forays into illegitimate relationships an escape from captivity? Do we not all console ourselves at some point of our education and career that it all gets better one day? That we won’t have to work so hard, be in a better position and be able to afford a lot more? At what point are we free from the struggles of daily life, free from tangled relationships, free from the judgment of people and society, free from norms and values, free from war, disease, poverty and hunger? Does freedom then become elusive, a state of being rather than a material condition that can be conceptualized and actualized?
Are we just like the spider on the cobweb which spins long, complex and intricate webs but will always be stuck in the confines of one small place until they die?

What happens when the spinning in our heads reaches this conclusion over and over and over?
It’s when you go to bed at night wishing for everything to end.

Posted on by Prerna in Immigration, Poetry