What are beliefs but the most ductile of microcosms that germinate in fertile lands and yet once aridity ensues, they drearily die or perhaps you could even murder them through a mishap that is your very own manifestation? Or if they do manage to stay, they morph and mould and merge at the mercy of our minds.
We rear them, we care for them and we nurse them strongly in our guarded bosoms with a ferocity that could never fray, perhaps because we know just how vulnerable they are. Imagine if one’s beliefs were constantly threatened, constantly rebuked – not by his or her own actions but by the lives others lead right in front of them that violates everything they stand for – would they not question? Is that how today we have a generation so lost and yet united in a grand confusion common to them all?
Somehow, somewhere I feel the dignity is gone. The dignity of individuality, that is. Everyone seems to be in a psychedelic daze with a fettered gait yet a strong-headedness that makes me dizzy. And I walk along, wondering if I am one of them..or just how much am I not. I could single out perhaps 4 or 5 people who really glow in their own being – unaffected and untouched by the world around them and I love to see them live – it restores hope and faith, and a promise, of a kind. (I hope you stay like that, and copulate only with your equals and ensure a progeny that is so prudish that they’d put a saint to shame).
True beauty lies in the self. A default destination.