Yoges

I’m scared out of my wits most of nowadays, feeling like sneaky mouse surrounded by giants. That’s my place in the world and I’m scared of evrything, of men and women stronger than me, smarter than me, better looking, wittier, more successful one way or another, kinder or morally superior to me.
I realize now how little I understand the world. I’m like a human with a chimp’s mind, worthy only of condescending pity.
I just don’t know what to believe/disbelieve anymore. It’s beyond me to deal with reality. And what is reality btw? Everything is supernatural so far as I can see because I’m a witless beast in a bizarre universe with no physical limits which doesn’t make any sense to me (or maybe with limits which still doesnt make sense).
I’m a puppet in the hands of mere chance. There’s nothing deliberate about me. I do what is usually done; why, because others do the same. I’m not in control of anything. I eat food that is harvested, stored, transported, distributed, sold by a series of strangers. I can’t wrap my head around the process used to make my clothes or my shoes. I’m ignorant of all the technology that makes my phone work. Ditto every other big and small article I have. Totally dependent on unknown unkonwns. I can buy all this stuff because I have a wad of money which I got by doing meaningless work. If I could grow a potato that would have more purpose to it than what I do. And yet I somehow OWN real stuff by getting paid for doing unreal stuff. My undeservedness scares me.

I’m not sure what I’m trying to say. Apologies to anyone who read this expecting coherence. Guess I just need some outlet to my mental torrent. Fucking hell I’m tired of constant thinking.

Drawn partly while listening on loop to The Funeral by Band of Horses

No shit, our little mudball just got done with yet another long, dreary circuit around the big fireball! For the 2,019th time since Jesus. And here we go again for Round#2,020. Hold tight, fellow astronauts, and try not to get bumped off, for it might get a bit bumpy this time around.

Good hope for y’all. Farewell to the fallen – RIP.

I feel like I’ve lived out my time of life. I find the world around me increasingly unfamiliar. It’s only natural, I suppose. The law of life – the old making way for the new. And I’m fine with that. But it’s happening all too suddenly for me. Too fast to grasp my new place among things. It’s like change accelerated manifold.

But it’s a universal phenomenon. Look at evolution; took us millions of years to get here and now they’re talking of bionic man coming this very century. Take climate change; for ages temperatures varied just a few degrees and now we’re looking at being cooked at 2 degrees higher this very century. Humans have been mostly hand to mouth since cavemen era, kept busy with work in order to survive and now they’re bringing AI to gradually take out most jobs by the end of this century.

I can’t relate to turns of events anymore. I’m not following any pop culture the way I used to. I’m not up to date with current affairs, tired of news. Not keeping up with latest tech. Not abreast with social dynamics like relationships.

It all points to my decaying psyche. That’s how growing old works, I guess, though I’m aging quite prematurely, poor me. Nah, that’s fine by me. I’m not enchanted with youth and beauty anyways, not anymore. I’m ready to be left behind in the darkness, stillness and silence of bygone time. Leave me in peace, restless lives! Let me die in peace…

“However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich man’s abode; the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace. The town’s poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives of any. Maybe they are simply great enough to receive without misgiving. Most think that they are above being supported by the town; but it oftener happens that they are not above supporting themselves by dishonest means, which should be more disreputable. Cultivate poverty like a garden herb, like sage. Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Turn the old; return to them. Things do
not change; we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts.”

…this is the only ‘social’ media that I’ll grace with my presence from now on.

Months ago I read a serious article online, advising netizens on their way out to make sure not to leave behind their digital footprint lest it be misused after their exit. Decided to act on the advice now.

Never been on snapchat or instagram. Put facebook for deactivation more than a month ago. Checked outta linkedin and behance last week. Left my whatsapp groups (except four that’d raise questions); will uninstall it after quitting my job next to next month. Deleted an alternate email account (wasn’t using it much anyway, tbh). I’ll soon be deleting my only email account and get rid of my cellphone. Way to go, hobo!

…but even Once is too much.

Had a bad day at office. I’m not one of the gunner kind but rather dumb. Just some pathetic faceless employee right at the bottom of the pecking order. Today I was the last one to leave after a hectic project delivery. I felt so bitter thinking about what a chronic loser I am. Drifting half-assedly through life, working for peanuts, and even then not knowing what to do with whatever spare dime I’m making. I just couldn’t make any sense of my being in this world.

But then, while waiting at the bus stop, a strange peace descended upon me, like a whiff of cool breeze in prickly humidity. I was reminded that my days of living through this shitty existence are numbered. I’m not hanging around for long now. I won’t keep letting myself be humiliated by my incompetence. I’m not living life my own way but I’m going out on my own terms. And that’s a win I’d say. Better than dying old as fuck on a hospital bed, shitting in pans, pissing in bottles, attended by tired nurses, ‘cared for’ by weary relatives secretly wishing I die already. I was exhausted but thinking about my situation in this new light, I commuted back home quite upbeat.

I just hope I can fix a definite time-bound plan for my exit and somehow be at peace all that while. I hope to die with an empty mind without any thoughts buzzing in my head.

End of rant.

And I don’t belong in it.

I’d disappear from society and die this minute but I know there are a few good-hearted people who care, family and friends who’d go crazy over my sudden absence and ruin themselves with worry. I’m fucking chained to them, so I know what it is like to be a prisoner and I guess that’s I’ve got this pathological hatred for all those smug assholes who keep birdcages and fishbowls in their dainty fancy sweet little homes. Who gave you the goddamn rights to hold back the birds from flying and the fish from swimming freely out in the real world. Why not just kill and eat them? That’d atleast release them from their existential misery, bitches. I feel like smashing an aquarium to pieces, but I guess that’d kill the fish too. Hell I swear I’m gonna set some birds free before I die even if that means violence. Do not go gentle into that good night…

I’m moving to a big city full of corporate bots into a new job I’m not fond of. It’s a new phase of my life, but I hope deep down that its the last one too. I look forward to fuck up at work and get fired (Again. I was fired on my first job). I’ll have no friends or family in that city so I guess it’ll be easier to take the plunge when I’ll be on my own.

I’m too tired for new beginnings. It’s too late to make a comeback. I want out.