Idled Life
Right and wrong: what is right is wrong and what is wrong is right. Primitive minds are aware of this concept but truth is in between, rather opposite. Neither is right nor wrong. Life is a punishment, so it must be wrong and is the bane of right. If devils rule heaven and angels rule hell then I don’t care because I live to die, exist to disappear. Then ignorance is bliss rather than living.
Life is a disease that there is no cure for. You live to enjoy life’s greatest commodity; only to die at the end. Some come to terms with the disease, others think up interesting rituals to cure it. But they’re all wrong. Life is a disease, a thing, a story, and it begins and ends. The only thing that fluctuates is the span of the script.
Idled Death
The unknown is truly scary, for you don’t know if the unknown will help you or harm you. Instinctively we fear it because it is safer to assume it would harm us instead of helping us, as most would agree. We fear uncertainty, we fear death as it is uncertainty incarnate. But is it irrational to fear such an uncertainty when that is all it is? I do not presume to court death nor do I wish to exile it, I only come to question why it is feared and loved as it is only an event.
If death is not feared, it is loved. If death is not loved, it is seen as a disappointment, as we seek to achieve our goals in life. But when we are interrupted by death, we feel scorned by its choosing. What we cease to realize is death is not something new, rather it is one of the oldest concepts that everything comes to an end. And yet as a species we feel it has a consciousness that cares for the life of others. Instead, it is mindless; nothing more, nothing less.
Idled Living
I sit in my classroom, observing my surroundings. Creating a different thought for each sight I behold. The people I observe, interact with each other in different ways. They go on completing the same actions they completed yesterday without a thought, and all I can think about is why they interact the way they do and how can they genuinely believe in their self-importance when they will leave little impact on the world. It does not bother me, rather I am curious. I can only postulate that they find absolute joy in uniformity, for if you can find absolute joy in something you are not living idled.
