There are only two enemies we keep on struggling and have battle with, probably since we are aware of our consciousness in this world and of the people and the environment surrounding us.
They are the memories of the past, and the imaginations of the future. Both of them are equally dangerous. Both of them can be pain in the ass, make you nervous.
When you dig up the old memories, remember and sense the old feelings, the old pictures, the old long forgotten smells and the old sounds and voices..they all start to overtake you, yourself, overwhelming. You hate yourself for your inability to feel and claim them back. Claim back the people from the past to come to here and now. To talk to you, to spend time with you.
Inability to bring back the smell of grass and wild bushes in the morning, with the morning dew on them. Inability to bring back the softness of the wild purple trumpet flower petals. Inability to bring back the scent of the persons you loved. Inability to bring back the voice of the sparrows in the prairie when there were no built environment. Inability to bring back the silence, the quietness of the neighborhood without the annoying motor exhaust sound. Inability to bring back the butterflies on your stomach when you fall in love.
The helplessness feeling that you have, that reminds you that you cannot do anything to change the present and send the past to the destination: now, is vain. The emptiness inside, to know that even if you scream, crawl, roll over, tantrum, yell, mock, angry, rage, spit it out, nothing will change. And moreover: who will and should be the RIGHT subject of your anger?
Is it God? Time? Weather? Circumstances? Fate? Destiny? Some Divine Beings?
In the end, just like a child who is in a mess after tantrum, you look around and realize that it is a kind of hell that you are dealing with. Knowing what you want, but cannot make anything about it. Not after the tantrum. Not after the harsh rebellion. No efforts will be useful. No matter how hard you try.
And imagination. It is something that exists only in your mind, in your brain. It might be triggered by memories or experiences or it might be simply there because you think of it at the first time. Triggered or not triggered by empirical reasons.
And the dangerous about imagination is that it may go wild. Untamed.
It is when you can make them real. When you imagine of a future condition you don;t know how to make it real. Feeling the helplessness of wanting it come to pass. And it didn't. You are trapped with the now. The future is still out of reach, despite the beauty of the imagination. When you project the picture or motion picture in your head, in your mind. Just to find out that they stay there.
Again, you will feel like that tantrum child again. Helplessness.
In the end, "Everything under the Sun is meaningless". Just like the Bible says. Call me an existentialist, I may be one.
*I Googled the two words, and surprisingly, found a quote about both by Cioran (just heard of him). The pic's there on the top right.
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