Saturday, November 20, 2010

It doesn't Matter

I’m sick and tired of faking smiles. Sick of all the happiness around me. The world’s a sham, life’s a joke. No one fucking cares. No one. There is no all powerful being sitting up there in the clouds looking down at you with a benign smile, slowly and masterfully guiding your life to eventual peace and contentment. He doesn’t give a shit. And neither do I. Coz I have learnt it the hard way. I have learnt it the hard way that there’s no plan for any of us. I learnt it when dreams I had built painstakingly were brought crashing down, ruthlessly, without a second thought; like a child who gives hours of effort and patience to build a sandcastle, and without warning, a sudden fluctuation in the ocean’s tidal dynamics produces a freak wave which washes it away. A loss so big for the poor kid, but did the ocean with its billions of metric tonnes of water even notice what it did? Somebody should have just walked over to the child when he was beginning to build his castle, picked him up and told him, “Whatever it is that you’re planning to do, it wouldn’t matter”. And it doesn’t matter. Never. Do what you want to pander to your desires, but in the end, the happiness is only momentary. IT DOESN’T MATTER.
Is this that hard to see? Why do people around me laugh? Why are birthdays celebrated the way they are? Don’t they see how overhyped the concept is? Pretend to rejoice the day you were thrown into this pigeon-shit existence for the next seven decades(barring the few lucky ones)? What’s in that fucked-up flower your lover gave you that’s making you give me that big-toothy one? Its gonna fuckin dry up, and then stink as fungi and bacteria make a meal out of it. Why the applause when the teacher announced he would not be taking classes tomorrow? Do you think that made him any nobler than he is? Do you for one second doubt his intentions to screw your lives the first chance he gets? So you landed a job? Congra-fuckin-tulations! You just signed away 50% of the waking hours of the rest of your useful life (if that’s even a phrase) to working your ass off doing something we both know you hate the guts of.
So why the fuck do you laugh? Or even cry for that matter? Why do you celebrate? Or mourn? If you think it matters to someone, go get a good look at yourself in the mirror. All of it is inconsequential, YOU are inconsequential. Puke out the food you eat, bleed till you drown in it, shout till you can’t hear yourself anymore, or simply hold your breath and just keep holding....