Saturday, April 01, 2006
Stream of Un-Consciousness.
Idling gives me time to think, perhaps not for the better. But at least I am thinking.
At times I wonder what purpose I serve in this world. What am I working so hard for?
Wealth?
Status?
Again,
Why do I study? Why do I work?
So what if my grubby hands got hold of a swelling degree,
so what if I am a world-renowned journalist,
so what if I am the world footballer of the century,
so what if I am the greatest guitarist ever,
so what if I sell 10 billion records,
so what if I am the wealthiest man alive,
so what if I own a hundred gorgeous guitars,
so what if I own a hundred tube amps,
so what if I own a hundred boutique pedals.
For when I leave this world, I will not be taking anything along,
not my money,
not my status,
none of my axes, effects or amplifiers.
not my automobiles,
not my house,
none of my mobiles, laptops or technology.
Nothing.
For when I am gone, they will no longer mean a thing.
For nothing in life is certain, except death. For in life is death, and in death, is death.
Glories like glow worms, afar off shine bright,
But looked to near, have neither heat nor light.
Frankly, I still have no inkling what the hell is my purpose on Earth. I do not understand why of all people, I am staring out of this pair of eyes.
Why am I, I? Why is he, he? Who are we?
And when death consumes, do I soar to the sky to be judged by a greater power? I do not know, but that is what I would like to believe.
And then what, do I get assigned to another physical cage? With no recollection of my previous life?
If that is the case, does that mean that my soul is an entity? So is there a fixed number of souls?
Is there a glowing golden court in the skies?
Is there a gleaming monolithic machine, or some austere, supernal being that extracts souls from clinical glass-jars and then stamps the wipsy white things into lifeless bodies propelled along on a snaking rubber conveyor belt?
And who decides who goes where? God?
And since they say that Earth has existed for trillions of years, and all that we know merely dates a hundred million of years back, what occurred during those unknown times?
And when our world finally become irreparably filthy and corrupted,
when our basest instincts are given free reign to guide our actions,
and when we have lost the capacity of compassion and love,
will a greater power, bearing an unrivalled fury, descend upon us to purge our lands to pristine purity?
If we are all going to die, then what and where is the point of it all?
As you might already have come to comprehend, there is never a satisfying denouement to anything.
So,
I think, the point of it all is the journey towards the end.
Sounds cliched, you bet.
But often the most cliched saying embodies the greatest truth.
I think, the most important thing is to share.
So I have accumulated an abundance of knowledge, what is the point of taking it to the grave?
I have to share it, I have to leave a legacy.
So,
if I am a world renowned journalist, I will strive to capture in my articles the precious emotions and happenings of the masses to share it with the masses.
if I am the greatest footballer or guitarist alive, I will share my knowledge, my ecstasy, my passion, with the masses.
if I am wealthy, I will share my wealth with the masses.
And if I am none of the above, I will still share my love and compassion with my loved ones, and with those whom I can reach.
And in doing so, at least I know that I have left something of value behind when I pass on.
For when we ascend to heaven to be judged, we are all equal in status. And we will judged solely upon our doings.
Yet stay, heaven gates are not so highly arched
As princes' palaces: they that enter there
Must go upon their knees
