Kavya
passionné
résistant
idéaliste

Drowning

Today, more than ever before (perhaps only of late, i dont know, i guess i tend to exaggerate) i feel overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the numerous problems that seem to have surrounded me - i am alone in the woods, at night, without a soul in sight, and i'm looking up at the stars for comfort as opposed to getting up and DOING something about it. This inaction - this desire to watch my own distruction, my own unravelment that seems to entertain me, is my very own personal spectecle - like a car crash, that stupifies the spectator into stopping to watch the distruction that is inevitable. I am the driver and the spectator, all at once. Its almost like a freudian dream - only this is no dream, it is reality.

I dont know if i believe in fate - the inevitable ending of everything in what was meant to be. Should i truly believe that it is all meant, that this suffocation is simply a step to a better - or worse- tommorrow and that my efforts to choose between the two are completely in vain , the purpose of my being is simply rendered irrelavant. There is no reason for me to try, to justify my actions, to think about my next step in life - because everything is predetermined. I would simply be carrying out someone else's plan - and actors dont have to think.

Humans in general choose ideals that comfort and reassure them - its completely true, look around you. Yet this is a dilemma that has been a huge question mark in my life thus far, and will probably always remain - which of the two ideals gives me comfort? the fact that i play an active part in my life, that i have the freedom of choice gives me great comfort indeed. yet, when i make the wrong choices, or when things dont work out, why does this little voice in my head say that everything will eventually turn out right? Why do i seek the comfort that fate offers only when i screw up, and at other times believe that i am the ruler of my own destiny?

This hippocracy that is engrained in my attitude is the cause for my downfall. The responsibility of my actions is shirked everyday, simply because my actions may not be successful and the blame may cause my ego and hope to fade. Yet, when people tell me to work hard, and later, when hard work does not pay, tell me that everything will work out, one must wonder, is it human nature to be hippocritical in this manner? Does everyone forgoe logic and responsibility for the sake of comfort? Is it absolutely basic instinct to retreat to the most comfortable solution or justification of one's problems, dispite the fact that it makes no logical sense?

These questions, endlessly abysmal that they are, weigh me down even more than my problems do. It is a train wreck of sorts, i guess - the wreckage of logic, of that which i believe my life is dependant upon. It is an earthquake to the foundation of my life. And i can only hope it has awakened me from my slumber of comfort and inaction, such that i may stop the wreckage before it takes place, seize the moment before it passes, grasp the reins of my life and swerve away from distruction, as i am bound to do, be it by fate, or simply, by will.