EVERYTHING is Normal.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
..insight:)

Submitted: November 16, 2008

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Submitted: November 16, 2008

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It was a normal morning. There was nothing fantastic or shining, the monotony oozed out of the air, playing with the usual stench of humidity that reeked in the streets. As for the weather, I can’t recall if the sun was shining or not; I’m not partial for these minuscule details. Few things stood out. There were a few gusts of winds that I can particularly remember, but that’s because they knocked the papers out of my thin hands, scattering them all over the stone courtyard.

The air was thick with drops of condensation. I remember laughing as I witnessed a few women complaining about the curls that were forming in their new salon hair. You could smell the water. It was quiet, but only in comparison to the usual murmur of the town’s activity. The buzzing that had become a part of my day to day activity was absent. Call me a liar, but even the taste of the air did not intrigue me.

There was nothing today that could call my attention.

 

After the sun had set near the lush mountains, my mind raced to a few conclusions. November is definitely a pretty month. The colors that were streaked across the evening sky ranged from rich magentas to violent purples. Had I so much as glanced at the clouds, I might have noticed. The second conclusion I decided upon was that time was irrelevant. Today, I had experienced that you control how fast or slow the clock ticks by. The dreadful passing of seconds grew only more wearisome as the day progressed, if it did. I also concluded that my schooling was an important part of my education, and that vacations, and days off were a complete and utter waste. Why torture yourself by taking the day off if you just have to go back and listen to old bats and bores rant and rave about things that actually held importance in another time?

But the most important thing I decided on was the following: my life did not make sense without a few permanent factors that were somehow amiss in the past week.

 

I have educated myself out of school; using movies and books to make an effort at learning. I have absorbed even the silliest of ideals out of altruistic novels that always have a happy ending; I have endured hours of ridiculous plot lines and awkward scripts. I have made an effort at Sudoku puzzles and crossword games. I have even tried to waste time in measly human activities, like painting your toenails, drying your hair, or even washing your face. And it has been to no avail, because I discover now, that, if you do miss something, it will leave a permanent burn mark on your heart. If you believe in such things.

I have tried deluding myself into the possibility that hurt and pain are fleeting emotions; time cures all. If you wait long enough, the thoughts leave your head, and only a sensational numbness remains. The pain is still there, only now it’s worse, because what you are experiencing isn’t the physical backlash of tripping or falling. You are feeling something that has not been given a name. There are no adjectives that fit the category. For once, the feeling cannot be reasoned with or logically interpreted. But, looking back at my nonsensical rantings a few paragraphs back, time is not a constant. You determine time, and therefore you determine when you will stop feeling pain.

If, of course, you believe in such things.

The sickness of heart can be manifested by two appropriate agents: a heart attack, and a heart break. Soppiness and gooiness aside, these two ailments have completely different symptoms. To elaborate, a heart attack can lead to cardiac arrest, and soon thereafter, death. A heart break leads to something worse. It’s like being killed, but not receiving the pleasure of going somewhere else, where the pain is nonexistent. Instead, you are eaten inside out, until all that remains of you isn’t enough to be called alive. A heart break is much worse. You could argue that being dead is the worst, but here I must rest my case, because my beliefs might differ from yours. You might think after you die, you go someplace else. Somewhere beautiful, somewhere supernatural, somewhere that doesn’t exist here. And that might be why it holds allure to you. It’s not here, but there. You’ve never been there, so you cannot imagine what new sensations you will experiment with. So you think about whatever is best, and pray that you deserve it. That is, if you believe in such things.

For the cynics of the world, a heart break is not something real. You choose to put yourself through all the aggravation and desperation that heart break creates. Because, love is non existent. It is just a word to excuse carnal needs and physical wants. What is love but infatuation? We, as animals, survive merely on our instinct. Reason is merely a charade. You want someone else for the sole purpose of creating more life. Love is just a shortcut to explain politically incorrect actions. And the heart grieves only if it is dying. And it is only dying because dying is a perfectly normal part of your life. But, that is only if you believe in such things.

There are the romantics of the world that can swear by love at first sight, soul mates, all the dazzling sparks that you feel throughout your body. Butterflies in your stomach. A certain racing quality to your heartbeats. Sweaty palms, cold feet. Whatever physical ailments we wish to associate with that other somebody. But the truth is, the hard and cold truth, that the only time that emotion really plays a part in your life is when you feel the bitter twinge of disappointment. And disappointment only ensues after you place your heart on something that is nonexistent, such as love, or any other imaginary emotion.

The truth of the matter is there is no such thing as emotion. There is only your instinct. The next step, surviving. Surviving means staying strong. We are given tests that they assume we will pass. A person that weaves into your life’s tale is only there to teach you a lesson that must be learned to survive. Love? It’s the worst of them all. No one ever passes it. And if you do, then there’s nothing else, and only emptiness can envelope you now.

 

Happiness can be found within many things. Of course, you decide where to look, but in that instance, you also decide where to find it. Relying on it is dangerous, a fool’s choice. Because where you decide to leave your happiness is an important matter. Just as you leave your money in the safest bank, happiness can only be stored in the places that you can rely on, forever. The day one of those places is stood up, you are left with nothing. This is why, when deciding where to store your happiness, you must find an immovable object, a constant factor that will never be missing. You can’t afford mistakes. There is no trial and error.

And the day that your happiness runs off, you will be left with an awkward space that nothing material or immaterial can use up. Those factors we rely on are our weakest link.

I discovered this one simple afternoon, on a day where school had been cancelled. Seeming riots had dispersed on the boulevards of my city, and it was an apparent threat to us. We were confined to the boundaries of our homes. This was good. No calculus or philosophy. No language arts. No physical education. Oh, the never ending glory.

Putting sarcasm aside, I was given a day to ponder on my life and the choices I had taken recently. I did not dwell so long on these because I discovered that my errant ways were finally taking a toll on me. Instead, I bored myself with meaningless tasks and chores. And throughout the day, I took into consideration my feelings, or complete lack thereof. I wondered what was missing. I pondered and pondered, never reaching a conclusion, because at the same time, I was making an effort at erasing the whole ordeal and placing it on the dusty shelves of my unconscious brain. I managed to laugh a bit, and, here is the best part. I actually smiled.

 

But at the end of the day, when the sun is drooping over the horizon, and the stars begin to tease the indigo sky, you are only left with one companion. Your mindJ.

And that’s when it gets a little crazy.


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