Unorganized Thoughts.

 Greetings! My name is LazerNobody. It is a pseudonym. I am one of those who believe in god but not in religion. Spirituality is the closest we'll ever get to knowing god. I am human. Being able to adapt in any situation is the closest thing to being perfect. The world will end whenever you want it to end. Writing is my weapon of understanding and releasing contradicting thoughts; Nothing more. I use art as a tool of expressing the things I see. I know that I know nothing and I will stay this way forever. A thousand years is but an instant. There’s nothing new, nothing different. The best time to be alive is right now. I know when I’m dreaming but not when I’m awake. There are countless others like me. I am an unlimited edition. I hear music when I place my ear inside hollow pipes. I see beauty in things that make people weep. You cannot appreciate the light without experiencing the darkness. Lovers will suffer the way lovers always suffer. I can jump higher than anyone I know. You can judge a book by its cover. There is no such thing as originality. It has all been done, said and felt before. Anything else you hear is a fuckin lie.

I've been holding a lot of things off lately. I always seem to come up with excuses. This time I tell myself it’s because I’m sick. But deep down I know that it’s because I’m terrified of failure and rejection. The very mention of those words makes me want to crawl up into a ball and hide somewhere secluded. It’s not that I don’t step up to the challenges. I actually enjoy them. I work better under pressure, and most of the time I end up overcoming the obstacles. But sometimes when I give everything but find that my best just isn't good enough! That’s when my insecurities kick in. That’s when all the philosophies and wisdom that I have accumulated over the years leave my head and I am left with nothing but regret and confusion. I have never liked being confused. It makes me feel left out and isolated. It’s a cerebral wound that no literature can heal and it’s a thirst that no music can quench. It takes what feels like a lifetime for this dark mist to subside and by then, a part of me has already gone blind. Self-doubt my old friend, we meet again.  

So now I sit here waiting. I don’t know what good will come of this. I have lost my will and I have lost my way. Would it have been any easier had I extended my approval towards the boy that was standing before me? Would it have made any difference had I told him that I thought he was weak and pitiful? That he was capable of doing better? I am sure he would have heard me. Only a thin layer of glass separated the two of us. All I know is that I did absolutely nothing except just stand there with my mouth shut; Staring at those eyes as they faded to nothingness. Time! It changes things. Even pictures have expiration dates. Mirrors are no exceptions.

Over the years I have come to realize that I am next to blind when it comes to understanding the matters of the heart. It wasn’t always like this. I remember a time when roses smelled the way poets had written they smelled. I remember a time when I believed that certain feelings and emotions were enough to sustain a happy life; when praying to carved rocks in rooms made of milk and honey would get me passed any barriers in my life. Everything seemed to have answers. Everything seemed possible. Everything seemed so close and yet, everything felt so far. It all began one cold night when my concept of faith was shattered by a single phone call. Truth be told, I am not someone with a strong will. I will never show nor will I ever speak to anyone about the actual thoughts that scream inside my head. Even if I did, I doubt anyone would understand it. Even I, the author of my existence find it hard to make sense of my own inner voices. So, I write these words of self pity to try to make sense of these confusing impulses sent by my mind. I mostly fail miserably to decode them. Sometimes I feel that my answers are so far away from everything and yet I am still close to nothing. The one thing I do know is that deep down, I care of what people think of me.  So I wear a clown costume just to fit in among the masses. I fabricate emotions to justify my actions and I reject resurrection to gather reactions. If I wear this mask long enough then it will not be a mask. This is how it has always been with me. Every cell in our body changes every seven years, so we are a totally different person than who we were seven years ago and yet we are still ourselves.   

The truth is that man created science to gain knowledge about the heavens. He came up with inventions out of what nature had to provide to fulfill his desires to know whether there really were mystical beings living above the clouds. Disappointment led man to venture further up into the skies. I genuinely believe that the very first men to set foot on the moon, for a moment diverted their gaze away from their origin and looked into the vast cosmos to search for any sign of their heavenly father, their god, their savior. I wonder of the sights they must have seen. I wonder of the answers the vastness provided.   

When I was a kid, my dad used to tell me to go sit on a stranger’s lap every time we boarded a public transport bus.  I used to do so without even looking at the stranger’s faces. Even when I reached the destination, I would just jump off without saying anything. Today while sitting on a bus, the 22 year old me held a first grader of the very school that I had studied in when I was his age, on my lap. And all this time I kept thinking of how old I had become. Had all the decisions that I had made in life led me to this moment? Had I caused those faceless strangers to feel the same mental ordeal that I was experiencing? And at that very moment the bus stopped at Bansbari and the kid looked up to me, smiled and said “thank you uncle . . . bye bye”. I too bid my farewell and watched as he vanished from sight. It was then that it hit me. It was at that moment when I realized that though the world might be round, it is filled with mountains and deserts and oceans and forests and not everything that goes around – comes around and sometimes, it is worth it to look people in their eyes to just say “thank you”.   

You know that you’re dreaming but you can’t wake up. So you spend hours upon hours in your dream without your free will. You meet people, you go to places; you do things that you have no control over. Everything seems strange yet familiar. Then you wake up, but you realize that you’re still dreaming. However, this time you have control over your actions. And you can fly. But instead of going to places that you know, you venture to unfamiliar territories. You create people that you wish were real, you build places that you always hoped existed, you have meaningful conversations, you learn things about yourself, you are free to do anything. But then you use your mind so much that everything starts to fall apart. You are scared. You try to wake up. You try to open your eyes. The dream is over but you are paralyzed. That’s when you hear the voices and the screams. You feel helpless, confined and weak. Your body feels like it weighs a ton. You feel like the darkness will last forever. You start to lose hope. You submit to your fears. You let go of everything. You let go of whatever remains of your last remaining freedom. Then you wake up for the second time. It’s still dark outside. You look at the clock and its 2am. You've been asleep for 2 hours.