Don’t you all feel trapped? Inside this clumsy body of skin and bones. Unable to escape your filthy consciousness, you do things so all of these make sense.
You create personas to give those lumps a sense of individuality. You devise social constructs and make those personas follow a protocol to be heard, seen and understood.
All your future is as certain as an already lost match of chess, but the checkmate is yet to be announced. You wait, until you narrow down all your choices, and Boom! one day you are left with just one.
I used to feel trapped since I was very little. Always wanted to go to Rozy’s home – in her body.
I didn’t understand why it was me when I said ‘I’, but it was somebody else when they said ‘I’.
I was always so mad why I was stuck with this reality and why it wasn’t the same for any two beings.
I could easily have been born at my enemies’ house , would I still hate them then?
The truth is we make habits based on our stupid upbringings and be proud of the way we turned out to be. We associate ourselves with those frail meanings of existence and boom!; it’s time to go.
Do you know what is the hardest challenge? To imagine all the characters of your favorite movies, books and series coming into one. It is chaotic.
They don’t seem to act so well when not directed. I think I just saw Fargo smiling at a stupid Sophie. And Harry Potter was talking with Voldemort about the time when he saw his parents on the Mirror of Erised.
That is just the way we live – not-directed, left to the character arch alone. Not sure if they get to retake the mistakes.
And that is what I meant by trapped. A disorganized theater; sometimes you act in groups and sometimes alone. Sometimes you get astonished by the script you wrote for yourself and sometimes disgusted when someone else played your role better.
And while all of these go by, the curtain rolls down.
