Tuesday, 7 July 2009

A(n) [Express] Train of Thought

*Clack-clack* *clickety-clack-clack* *click*. The sound of work, as fingers run a marathon over the keys and alternate with the occasional touch of the electronic rodent's buttons, the murmur of machine, at times a sigh and at others a furious, urgent blowing, mingling with tired sighs and a steady breath that mankind scarcely notices, taking it for granted until it stops. The eyes are sticky from dryness, due to long-time exposure to the screen's radiation and just plain old sleepiness. The mixture of scents is not a particularly appealing one, as sweat upon sweat mingles with the murkiness of the season, the night's dew transforming into mouldy atmospheric humidity, instead of refreshing moisture.



I take a swig out of my overgrown polymer vessel and taste the bitter-sour grapefruit juice - may the Lord rest the soul of he who invented ice-cubes. I have no idea why I drink the stuff - certainly not to lose weight, given my day-to-day stillness and rather foul diet - or even why I am more inclined towards salty, sour, bitter things, instead of sweets (unless of course it's the worst form of sweets, such as petroleum-extract jelly-snacks, or the sainted ice-cream). What I do know, is that once more the Universe makes a point of its peculiar humour, as lines upon lines concerning its creation drone - no, fly, but slowly - before my eyes and I am reminded of a whole chapter dedicated to it being at the grapefruit-size stage, one hundredth of a billionth billionth billionth of a second after its *plop* into existence.



The irony does not escape me but I find it scarce funny that the Universe once had the size of such a delicious, bittersweet thing (the actual fruit is so and make no mistake) and that I am trapped between lines of words brimming with its description, while I guzzle myself on something that might be the actual thing's extract: it's still bitter and I still like it and by now my thoughts have veered off into a place where all dimensions are at right angles with those of my assigned work. The quest for knowledge of the origin of everything and then some: Sacred Science indeed, although it is now unthinkable for the two words to be joined, except within the limits of history and philosophy.



Of course, all this frantic firing of my neurons and the wild DJ battle between my brain's seat of memory and seat of knowledge, results from the presence of one thing instead of another: I have been cloistered for work before, not 4 months past, then in the throes of great depression (seemingly even greater than the one menacing the world's finances), yet armed with solitude and a feeling of being disconnected from the rest of humanity - which things helped, or rather forced me to concentrate on my work alone (what else was there for me, after all, I was thinking at the time).



Now, after a turn of events starting 3 months ago, almost to the day, and ending a little less than one month and a half ago - events into whose details no gentleman of a right mind would delve - the depression was scrubbed off me rather violently, replaced by my returning feel of the humanity inside and around me.

All this may sound a bit aloof and all too philosophical, yet make no mistake, it's a rather simple thing that only perception manages to turn so complex: it is all about sensing humans as living, breathing, sentient things which, indeed, tend to break down too easily, instead of regarding them as only the result of behavioral patterns, cause and effect, strength and weakness. Certainly, the latter is an appealing outlook in that it defends you against a multitude of "acceptable" attacks, within the limits of our "civilized" society and makes you capable of returning the attacks in kind, if not multi-fold.



In essence, if you detach yourself from the complications of humane - and not just human - relations, you are pretty safe and, given the proper inclination, you can develop a number of skills to gauge and damage those around you, should you wish so. However, it is a lonely, barren and rather thankless road. Oh, you can certainly pretened about a great many things and "earn" the gratitude and admiration of those around you, yet the mirror inside yor mind's eye will always show you for what you are: a rather pathetic excuse for Dorian Gray. In time, even if you once had an inclination for malevolence or revenge, it drains out of you, leaving you indifferent, forced to wear mask upon mask to interact with people without coming across as cold (freezing cold at that). Their words reach your ears but do not register and are therefore promptly forgotten, be they insignificant personal dramas which mean the world to them, or serious thoughts deserving of further probing.

It occurs to me that, like a cossinus curve, I have been edging back and forth between conditions over the years, often resting at the 0 point of the y-axle, despite my best efforts. With age, the dinstinction becomes more blurry: I am 27 now and I have seen my share of abnormal situations - well, perhaps a bit more than my allotted share - as well as witnessed and felt intervals of happiness, some longer, some shorter, all in all good and bad balancing each other out, with a small yet very dinstinct "quanity of good" coming out on top. I am grateful for that and should you weigh the good and the bad in your life and find them as such or better, you should be too. If not, then you have reason to work towards making things better. Whining never helped anyone and the Gods help those who help themselves, as the old adage goes.



So now, I am observing and I am listening and I will remember all that you tell me and if you ask me a question, I will try to answer it to the best of my ability, unless I perceive that you already know the answer and are seeking something else. There are times when I might be annoyed, at seeing people conjure problems and imagined slights that stem from internal frustration and oftentimes, pure imagination. Still, I listen and I will speak my mind and I will not lie, though it may hurt you and possibly turn you against me. Such is our world: though we are all somehow connected, we do not necessarilly fit together.

As a last thought, keep this in mind: this, our world and life, is or will yet be filled with too much pain and sorrow. It's the natural way and course of things, as they stand. So do yourself a favor and cherish all that you enjoy as granted; and if you have the time for idleness, at least enjoy it instead of using it to poison your mind and your humour. We only get so much time and if there is one undisputable sin, in my opinion, it is wasting ours or that of others, either in our minds or through our actions.



Good morning,

Speedgrapher

P.S. In case you were wondering, I write these things because they float around in my mind and disrupt my focus. Materializing them into typed words relieves the pressure inside my skull, so to speak. I do wonder whether this train of thought traces its origin to my current work, in conjunction with my reading chapters from Alan Moore's "Voice of the Fire" late at night or very early in the morning.

2 comments:

elli said...

Damn.. we are so much alike..
(having insomnia due to work -or plain insomnia- is kinda great, isnt it? or am I weird for liking it?:S)

Speedgrapher said...

That we are, I suppose. Insomnia actually works rather creatively for me, so mark that as +1. G'morning luv. ^__~