The crazy inspiration of the uninspired

She felt deeply disgusted. A sense of disgust pervaded everything. She tried to get rid of it but the feeling persisted like the ink of a bad tattoo under her skin. At times, all seemed worthless but in any case she still would stand and find all it was left of her soul. Wow!!...considering the last series of events and thoughts it would be good to at last/least have a beer...The inspiration of the uninspired and unloved also counts and contributes to soooociiiieeety...Charm, what a thing?! How easy, superficial and fragile?!. Real heartfelt interaction is not very popular nowadays. Many men and women are probably asking themselves right now: "Why the fuck do I lose my time trying to connect with others?" Also many might be thinking: "Why on earth do some people like so much fucking others in the head and heart?"It is unnecessary yet it is perfectly natural in a society with psychopathic tendencies, morbid urges, big egos and no understanding whatsoever.

Our lives are so full of labels that we limit ourselves and others beyond belief...Most of the times, what we are talking about when we discuss "love" is rather a fight for power. Power to control and subdue others at will and force them to adapt to very selfish needs and wants whether or not it causes them inmense pain. Also with "love" comes judgement when others refuse to be slaves. The idea of love is used like opium to keep us dependent and controlled. We live in the capitalism of emotions as much as in an ecomonical capitalist system. Love suffers from alienation and lack of class conciousness. According to some it must follow a model that is spoon feed to us from an early age. Fuck the system! Fuck its thousands of labels that separate and clasify in thousands of categories the human nature!...sheeps, sheeps grazing and emiting sheep sounds while the predators lead their predator lives feeding on sheeps but what if you are not a predator, neither a sheep?...What if you can see the movements of both and you know that you do not fit in either group?

Ohhh, what a state when feeling dead yet still breathing! The resignation of the Walking Dead  ...yellow, her nails are painted of such a color...some consider it the color of death if I  remember well...she loves it, yellow!!...logics or emotion...emotion or logics...Garak would say not to trust anyone...reptilian brains...Life is only word deep for some...What that actually means?...They do not realise the entire world attached to words and how words modify the biochemistry of others...

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. 
 

Alone with herself

      She laid awake in bed, recurring images of the past invaded her mind while she tried to remain still, ignore them and think of nothing of the like. Old shattered dreams of happy futures haunted her like ghosts. She covered her head with the blanket and took solace in the warmth of her bed. It wasn´t early but she did not want to get out of bed. Forgetfulness was something she was not good at. She marveled at how some people were able to achieve their wildest dreams when for her the simple things that make life worthwhile seemed to elude her efforts. No matter how careful she tried to be or how much she tried to protect herself, the things she feared the most came knocking at her door. Sometimes she just did not care anymore and she let herself go with the flow of the unavoidable events that life becomes sometimes. At some point she would find herself anew and she would be able to experience the joy of simple things again.

       As John Lennon said “Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.” Truth is the man died of several gunshots, but after the end he suffered no misery because he was dead and when there is death there is nothing else. In addition to that, the Nature of Life is change so if some shit comes to one´s life it must also depart. Her life was not so bad after all. She only had to motivate herself and remember the good things she had experienced. Why do we obsess about negative things so much? Why do they come to mind more often than the happy memories we might have? Never-mind. Thinking about it would not help her anyway. She finally got up and prepared some aromatic fruit tea. When she sipped at the tea she had just prepared, the rich flavor and warmth of it made her feel better.

       After all was she not used to chaos? She would distrust anything that was not chaos because sooner or later what was harmony and beauty would turn to chaos. The other way around should also be true...Maybe life really was all about accepting things instead of wishing for ideal situations. Maybe acceptance was the ideal situation. One question remained: When is acceptance OK? When should one stop fighting for one´s dreams and reshape them instead?...There would never be absolute answers for life because life is only for living; most of the time we can only improvise and often we do it poorly. However it might be, she was ready for work now and all the nonsense would have to wait. Hush!

Two men

    The relations that Iris had with both gentlemen had certain similarities. Abner was her first true love and she could never stop caring for him. Alistair crossed her path later in life, a short adventure preceded by long distance friendship. Iris had bonded with him over letters and the strangeness of their lives. Both men were from the East and they were not the kind of men who show their feelings easily. Abner was born and raised in Southern India while Alistair was an Eastern European by birth. She loved the two of them with that kind of love full of compassion which is not all that easy to find. To her they were beautiful creatures with beautiful minds, hopes and dreams. She also craved for their words and company...She felt so alone without them.

   Now and for some strange turn of destiny she was to meet these two men who moved her heart and meant so much for her. Iris was nervous, she could not stop looking at her watch and clothes while trying to be mentally ready for the meeting. The first to appear was Alistair. He was stoned and had a charming mischievous grin on his face. One could see straight away he was not a faker. Iris never liked fakers, hypocrites or polite society. Iris and Alistair took a good look at each other, hugged and after, he said with a glimpse of delight in his eyes:

“Hi Iris, long time no see. How are you darling?”

“Not bad dear. How about you?You look as handsome as always. Oh, there comes Abner. I shall make some introductions” said Iris as Abner approached around the corner of the Natural History Museum.

    Iris waved at Abner so he could see them. He wore a thick jacket and walked quickly as if in a hurry. He smiled quietly as he got near.