"" Bleh and Awe: Poop on your sensus ad inveniam

Sunday, 25 March 2018

Poop on your sensus ad inveniam


Porcupine Tree and Nine Inch Nails. Oh man, when are they gonna release their new material.

The most powerful agent affecting our minds is...our mind. Our emotions rule us and they rule the planet. Your emotions define you, your human software and in return, your human hardware. Emotionally distressed patients have a greater likelihood of suffering from general weakness and diseases. Anyways, we cannot control most of our emotions, they make us feel like rats in an experimental cage: reactions to external environment/stimuli.
These stimuli come in all shapes, colours, panic attacks, and rainbows-with-ponies. Argh, in the end,  we get what we deserve. Anyways, we react to our environments, and it feels terrible to overthink; but introspection is beautiful.


One fine random college day, I woke up in the middle of some class. Last night was fun, booze and chicken and now, there was an exam, surprise test. The teacher was supposed to arrive 10 minutes late. As the usual, nobody studied except this one guy. As a bacterial of bandwagoners surrounded him to extract every bit of information, it felt like a military interrogation. Hard, direct and every ounce of information extracted swiftly. Some were dozing and some were discussing future Cat/Gate/IAS/Rawa/idly/dosa/uthappam plans. And I was there, sitting in the middle of this bedlam, wondering what the hell am I doing here.


I suppose I wasn't the only one with a lack of purpose. The sense of purpose had yet to dawn upon. Some of my friends have jobs, some are married, some pregnant, some in Dublin creating music, some junkies, one stuck in the hospital with his father seriously ill and most in college. Some of my classmates were fixing their hair or playing mini-militia.

Then realize we're all the same. Stupid, greedy and afraid.
Add Violence. (Nine Inch Nails, 2017)

It is really sad and terribly depressing that there is such vastness in beauty but we restrict ourselves to the compartmentalization of different stages of growing up.

Play with toys, Return from school, Hangout with your buddies, Indulge in intoxicants, Go to a building where they teach you math and civility, Get a job, Get married, Have kids, Pension, Have Grandkids, Think about what you're leaving behind, Grow senile.

This weird chunking feels the whole rat race sort of thing.
Yes, the way in which you experience your stimuli from the interaction with the external environment is different from say, mine. Like you may see a flower with a different view, and I'll (or anyone else) will see it in their own personal perspective. Probably blue and sad, or a bright indigo.

But all in all, at times it feels so bloody bland.

It feels so bland to the point where we've been brainwashed into dreaming about some life' of grand tours + exquisite food + Unlimited WiFi + luxury = 100% Pleasure waiting for us. And that it is actually not possible to attain these. Like nat geo photographers travel the whole damn world to get that shot of a tiger mauling the deer. But damn, they have a really difficult job.

Not that our lives or experiences are cheap, but sometimes somehow it does feel so. feels like "argh what the fuck am I doing stuck here while I could have achieved some magical wishy-wushy someplace else? What's my sense of purpose?"

All who wander are not lost, but the lost ones wander off the most. And we are all a bit lost.