Money, relationships, food, people and places - they all get gobbled up, assimilated and spit-out without making even as much as a blotch on the answer sheet. I continue to wonder if this is nothing but a passing phase in the cycle of development and ruin of the mind. Did my parents feel this same way at some point in their life? "Of course they did", I tell myself. Or could it be that I have been gifted the liberty of this thought, the price for which my parents paid with priceless sacrifices?
And what of the multitudes of unfortunate folk that struggle still to fill up their family's plates, once a day? Are their minds stuffed stiff with worries and numbed by the coldness this world shuns them with? Do they feel happiness? What is their motivation here? Screw that! What is MY motivation here?
Semi-anchored to a quasi-stationary continuum of time, kept afloat by a source-less desire to learn and tied down by material and emotional bonds alike, what the hell am I supposed to be achieving now? Given the blunt truth that points to the sheer cliff of purposelessness, am I supposed to find a way up and yonder? Am I just an incremental change in an extremely long series of mutations that will one day create an all-knowing being, at the culmination of evolution? Is there something more to me than the throw-away trinket that time makes of me? If this is indeed the way of the world, where do expectations, love and emotions fit in?
Giving it some thought, I am led to believe that these are all implements devised to goad an individual to push oneself harder and harder, sometimes against all odds. Maybe these are all a means to an end, just like my salary, my job and status in society. Society in itself being a continuously evolving contraption, a social structure that dictates norms, urging the majority to fall in line on one hand and at the same time, stirring deep a rebellious potion within some, to construct a recursive, ever raising bar of desirable achievement.
If this is indeed the truth, I must set out on a quest immediately. A quest for perfection or something like it, of the mind. And to give my mind all the time I can, I will probably need to keep the material body, now a mere carrier, healthy and capable. But I forget about the worldly distractions that hound me incessantly, that smile at me from the sidewalk, ever enticing me to digress. Soon I will have to discover a meaning and purpose for all these aspects of life that I now conveniently yet unwillingly label as distractions. Until the time that I am able to do so, I must think, read, question, whet my brain, and revel in the joys of learning. This for now must undoubtedly be my immediate and unwavering goal.
