sábado, 30 de enero de 2016

The certainty of one´s own uncertainty

Iris went to the bar and for a couple of beers so as to numb herself and feel her feet walking on the ground again. She already knew well that trusting feelings and emotions was like crossing a fantasy world full of mirages as more often than not they are based on the subjectivity of what cannot be touched or measured in any way. She was not a kid anymore but tonight she felt like one defenseless toddler. Having gone many times through inner worlds full of ghosts in which she did not know whom she could trust and where so often foes turned to be friends and friends turned into foes, she felt distrust at her heart and mind. Was she even her own friend or her own foe?It was not clear but was unimportant now. All seemed so meaningless and unreal that she became a weird creature in the middle of a surrealistic painting in which all the unnatural came to life. She walked steadily immersed in her thoughts and with a kind of security that was born and raised in a chaos that had always promised the unknown was to cross her path. All she had was the courage to keep going and a voice deep inside that told her "hold on!!". Her feet continued moving
Her consciousness detached itself by the pressure of facts and she was only a witness to her own existence, yet she managed to discuss present worldly matters of her own life with the bar tender while sipping beer. All that could be concluded from the conversation was that nothing really mattered and that being able control the mind was one of the best abilities one could have. Dreams changed, so did opinions and also even identities if given enough time. Those were not at all the words of the bar tender but that was what she concluded from them anyways. In a savage world in which selfishness and insensitivity are rampant and far beyond instincts of self preservation the only thing that seemed to be real was the witnessing consciousness that told her she was alive and breathing.
In spite of the unreality she could sense all around it was obvious that thoughts still must be thought, feelings felt and experiences lived as part of life. It would not be any good to die while alive and censor oneself over the imperfection and incompleteness of it all. Words, thoughts and feelings not matter how deep could never contain all the complexity of the cosmos, there was always some word left unexpressed, a thought roaming in an inaccessible part of the brain or a feeling that kept itself hidden in the heart yet declaring all worthless was somehow like denying one important purpose of life. After all everyone knew things are never black and white. Only narrow-minded fools ignored that there are more things in heaven and earth, than can be dreamed in our particular philosophies. 
 

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario