Pseudo-Epiphany

I inject disappointment into my soul at times; to be very honest, college life hasn’t turned out as great as I expected it to be. The people are okay. I’m gradually getting to know them better now but no one has the time to really stop, and care for the intellectual, artistic aspects of life. No one seems to care about genuine creativity and learning, and more or less, we all are focused towards scraping a grade. I can’t blame us now, can I? After all, we’re paying quite a lot and we need to score good ‘to fit in‘. 

Reasoning With Reason

Is there a solid reason to believe in ‘reasoning‘?

Sure, it does help us understand the world around us, but from the very same logical channels, there are other understandings that eventually commingle to reveal a very distasteful, perplexing concoction. To agree with this, you need to agree with the fact that every discipline we demarcate today to suit today’s world’s context, has been fashioned from the annals of philosophy. The philosophy of politics, the philosophy of science, the philosophy behind reasoning and so forth; you get the point, right?

A feeble attempt: decoding Twitter

Marred by a boring experience on Facebook, I made it a target to take my banter onto the famous micro-blogging haven, Twitter. This was not the only reason behind joining Twitter. There were many other simple ones, too, but eventually they all coalesce back to the gist that suggests that a change is needed; Facebook is now static. The communicative interface is turning old by the minute, and even though improvements pour in, such as the introduction of the Timeline and Graphic search, it really doesn’t add anything to the element of ‘connectivity.’

Twitter, on the other hand, is a concept that might have just blossomed due to the emergence of Facebook, utilising all the things that Facebook lacked and locked down a particular niche which had a taste for blogging, but really wasn’t determined to do it the way it is supposed to be done; via a blogging website. That is okay, I suppose. Seriously, as long as you get to share things on your mind, in short excerpts, it makes it all the more interesting and encouraging for any reader to read.

So when finally Twitter started to generate some excitement amongst the ‘hippies’, it grew. There you go – being hippie isn’t so bad after all. These people are responsible for making things like Twitter a success. They tend to appreciate the effort and the potential behind such a grasping social network. In short, may be they realised that Twitter was a new way to get their message across. Fair enough. But there is a very strange, uncanny behavioural similarity between celebrities and these hippies, which sometimes gets me wondering if they’re the same. You see, all my life I have been under the illusion that somehow if man was given enough power to generate a massive following, like a cult, he would not be mired by the paltry details of life lived by a street man. Somehow, that power must be strong enough to infiltrate and corrupt ‘normal’ thoughts and seep into the action of the celebrity’s daily life. To some degree, I was right. Given the enormous amount of attention these people are afforded, no wonder do they come out and tweet things that really concerns no one but themselves. Narcissistic fools. If the media talks about them so much, haven’t they heard enough already? No, they haven’t. They still want to talk about themselves. Furthermore, what I find perplexing is the religious following of ‘sermons’ that celebrities often ‘preach’ on Twitter. For me, all of the condolences, estimations, analogies and intellectual discourse seems a little forced. Trying to get the limelight back on themselves when the conditions prevailing steal the show. Perhaps it’s natural by then, you know. All of that toxic attention does lead to withdrawal difficulties when taken away.

Window of an undying question

A window scuttled with dust

wiped a long time ago

Now reeks of a new breath

Twisting winds ravel the forlorn scraps 

managing a row with the bruised edges

It shall take it’s time,

And the master knows this

 

 

dust and wind, dust and wind

The master never knew

that when he shall look 

up and down, up and down

the time will skittle past

to an alley where 

the speed of light is fiduciary 

And the master shall then ask

Himself a question

to which an answer he knows

but shall never confess