Musings…

We are a race consumed by the virility of life. Constantly Consumed, Devoid of, yet races for meaningful signs and naked Gods with naked engravings. Pillars and post have proven to be a failed protest. Running in solitary circles, dooms day advocates predict a dark tomorrow. But most know better. Most believe in faith and reason. We live for it all, the days and nights, the moments and silences, hearts and beats, the virility, the weird and the perfect.

It might be a moot point of action, but I seem to have hit the main responsibility of truthfulness. It's the way ahead, the reason to fight, war worthy. It is the climax of an institution we lovingly refer to as humanity. So what is this great discovery? Why should one commit suicide and not let death consume the body in its natural progression? Why am I going against thousands of years of human experience, norms and mores? The reason is simple. It's all about control. Our frail sense of happiness positively depends on inner and outer, micro and macro control. To control what we do and more importantly what is done to us.

Without these feelings of need and questing jest, the institution is futile. We need to control how we die. Most importantly understand why we die. The only plausible way to do that is death in accordance with our own boundaries. Don't get me wrong here, I do not advocate a repeat of the Cobain's or such like, I am not advocating shot gun in the mouth and bang! All I'm saying is death, as we know it may or may not be the ultimate end. There is really no way to be absolutely positive, so why take chances. We have one birth and sure one limited death. So die a martyr, die for a cause, and die for reason. Death often achieves as much as life, at times even more. So commit suicide, for the cause. Once you have spoken to creator's evil twin, riding the forsaken horse with an empty saddle only for you, die. Don't resist or desist, assist.

I wonder how I ever got to this place. Talking of death in a manner befitting mayhems' sole survivor. How did I get here? What were the turns that betrayed my way? Was I led or mislead? If so, then who do I blame for the recent developments?

Barrages of questions bombard my feeble mind. It troubles me and frustrates my feeling and knowledge of myself. I knew this day was not too distant, but still, fear and disgust over the actual event is deeper than I anticipated. It caught me positively off guard. Knowledge is what is killing me here. Failure looms high and looking ahead is tugging me down. Revelation is not to be sought, reasons I get aren't the ones I expected. So why now, why here and why at all?

Does it all end some day. Will people understand my life and how I lead it? Is wastage acceptable and if so how do I sell it? How do I justify my reasons for not doing what I didn't do? An elegant suicide is of utmost importance. But the first one must not include death. It must not be gruesome and it definitely must not be now. The time will come. Or has it come?

Deeper the deliberatation, louder the questions, softer are the answers. Whispers on time are floating by so harmlessly it causes jealousy in harms eyes. Aspirations are born off it. We are cleared of all doubt. It brings me up to date, holds my hand in an angelic way, caresses my lips and flows into my eyes. It makes me see that the time for beatification is now. To revive, to die, to rise.