Self-Reflection

I stand alone, staring into the mirror of life I see many faces, stricken by strife. And I wonder, isn’t life nothing more than a reflection? A rumination; nothing short of a revelation? The past flashes before my very eyes, Sometimes hard, sometimes nice. I see myself standing in a crowd I want to shout; to cry out aloud. I want to reach out; to warn the younger me, To implore him not to grow up into “me” I cling to the edges, clutching at thin air, Watching him curse life for being unfair. ...

You are always too old to shirk your responsibilities and too young to do the things you yearn for!!

This is the hardest thing to do of all. The waiting. The languishing. The pausing. Isn’t it time for voice responsive technology to take over the world by storm? Shouldn’t we be talking to our computer by now to tell it what to do? Thinking something. Typing it out. The incessant drum of keys. The constant rumble of thoughts being pounded in by the necessarily debilitating slowness of my fingers. Are forty words per minute sufficient to curb the inflow of thoughts? Definitely not. What about fifty? What about a hundred? ...

Superiority. Human Superiority. Individual Superiority. Why do we feel the need to prove that we are better? Why is there an urge in every one of us to show the world that we know something about everything? Why do we live every day trying to display our superiority in every walk of life? I am sure we all remember (and try to forget) that one time when we foolishly tried to show off to a far superior expert and got our asses kicked royally. It has happened to me many a time. Yet, I find myself succumbing to the urge to float my idiocy in this ocean of aristocratic crap that is the world. ...

Isn’t the futility of life glaringly obvious when we look back on our own small set of adventures on this planet that has paved way for many of man’s mistakes? Do we not spend our whole lives looking for answers because we think that the next answer would change something, make our lives a little less miserable? But isn’t it also obvious that the truth is that we know that when we run out of questions, we run out of not only answers, but also hope? And isn’t hope the reason why most of us are alive right now?