Rebel

Because I have nothing to write about, I shall write something. My passion rebels against my inadequacies. It sees no reason why it should be stopped by a vacuum. But how to write in an all-consuming vacuum?

Because I have something to say to someone, I shall not speak a word. By defying the regularity of the moment, I am made the master of reality. What ought to be said all of a sudden goes missing, and what the future has prepared for the present goes to waste. Eternity has to reconfigure itself because I chose in that instant to not speak what I ought to have spoken. But this superiority which I gain for myself is as ephemeral as the instant itself. As soon as the future prepares a new outcome for the present; as soon as eternity reconfigures itself, then I would have lost my position. I am once again a slave to the universal scheme of all things.

Because I am expected to act in certain ways, I shall refuse to act at all or act to the contrary. There is no such thing as sanity. I can act in the most absurd ways but still retain my sanity. For what is sanity but that which you have defined by your perceptions. Beyond my consciousness, I may be considered insane; people will wonder whatever caused that poor person to ‘snap’. But I have not snapped. I have merely realized that what we call ‘normal’ is but a convincing lie told to us by ourselves – we are after all most gullible to our own deception. And there is such delight to be found in overturning this lie. Decorum thus ceases to matter. I am free, like a bird.

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