A Pessimist’s Musings

To be a pessimist is tough; more so to become one. But it isn’t tough to understand how dark our civilization is or rather civilization in itself has been. What is tough to swallow is the truth- naked, hairy and disgusting. Its is painful and hard to be a pessimist. Just when you begin to think that this is the Age to be in, you realize that you have actually entered a tunnel you cannot come out of. There are no escape routes and no manholes; years of deposit over the rules and systems have hardened them beyond any bending, leave alone breaking. Worse still, the Newtonian ether appears frozen and crytallized, taking us nowhere and trapping us everywhere.

    Anarchy, that paradise, has been vandalised in the name of order. Complexities stink. Rules stifle. Eternal verities suffocate. Morality sucks. And education wrought us nothing. Every Free Will is but inspite of the system. The State has deserted the individual. It is a system that feeds and thrives on collective suffering. It is Marquis de Sade himself. And on occasions masochistic! The search for order has made us myopic, if not blind altogether. Moderation is mediocrity in tuxedo and radicals are nauseating. Nothing has made us omniscient. Talk of 20/20 vision on a new moon day.
   Our autistic attempts to find order in an inherently chaotic system have resulted only in disharmony in the system; atleast in the perception of the system The world increasingly appears to be drawn over rippled waters. The omnipresent rules, codes, laws, protocols and verities are now cutting deep like a silk thread pressing on cheese. What was once a trickle is now a torrent. What was once a beach is now deep sea. What was once a cliff is now a canyon. What was once Pandemonium is now the only place left.
   Even Art, the last bastion of Free and unstructured thought, is under siege. The problem with structuralization is no structuralization is never enough; it is malignant. The bigger problem is that a structuralized world becomes predictable! Predetermined. The nightmare of any free thinking man, let alone the Ubermensche. As one Mr. Anderson would say ‘it makes you feel that you are not in control of your life’.
   Life is claustrophobic; coffinesque; at best, mortal. Luckily, there is death.
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