The adage holds true, hotel room walls don't have clocks. Yet time denies the slightest consideration to hotel room walls.
Emptiness, the hollows inside one's self, are an organic thing - as time, three decades of it, has taught me. The hollows grow, and grow, sometimes to dim, sometimes to change to just a subtler shade of black. Never shrinking. Never truly going away. Damned be temptations that promise otherwise, damned be promises.
Ever seen the signboard which says "Don't grow up! It's a trap!"? I've seen it, at some point found it a delightful piece of philosophy; but then, I've realized, it's not really factual. Growing up is not a trap, it's a myth. At least growing up, as we consider it, all the things we expect from it, just never happen... Well it certainly seems like you're doing the things you were hoping to do when grown up, playing the roles you thought were grown up ones. Playing the games you thought were grown up ones, turns out they really weren't.
We humans are as we are, not because of necessity, not because of curiosity, not because of the need to grow. We humans are as we are, because we are dissatisfied, it's not a new idea, it's just plain true, and utterly ironic when one realizes it, and realize it one has to. This is one of those things you just don't comprehend until it happens to you. We are, screwed up to the depths of futility that we are, merely because we're dissatisfied. Not that I condemn it, driving forces are driving forces, fair fodder for the nihilistic mind.
It's just that it's a fucked up driving force, merely pushing, without the slightest sense of direction, looking at it, it's not hard to comprehend how some can remain chronically confused. But even the bliss of their confusion is tempting at times. But original sin, was named aptly, the fruit of knowledge is - just like the one who plucked it - a harsh mistress.
Oh well, temptations come, temptations go, and we keep chasing their shadows, because we're dissatisfied. And the darnedest of them all, the big one, the grand pooh-bah of temptations, the wily one called Tomorrow. It's in cahoots with Time I tell you, or else a conspiracy this big would never survive. Bloody Tomorrow, it's definitely due for a walloping, not if, but when - I catch it. Because I'm dissatisfied with Tomorrow. So dissatisfied.
By this point you must have realized I'm merely rambling, not to any useful conclusion, and it's true, consider this my invitation for you, to be dissatisfied. Tomorrow, we'll go hunting for Tomorrow tomorrow, beat it up together, and be happily dissatisfied. Maybe we'll even be able to land a few hits on Time.
Yet time will go on, whoosh by, hurtle past, with life merrily riding pillion - glancing at everything, looking at nothing, especially hotel room walls.
Emptiness, the hollows inside one's self, are an organic thing - as time, three decades of it, has taught me. The hollows grow, and grow, sometimes to dim, sometimes to change to just a subtler shade of black. Never shrinking. Never truly going away. Damned be temptations that promise otherwise, damned be promises.
Ever seen the signboard which says "Don't grow up! It's a trap!"? I've seen it, at some point found it a delightful piece of philosophy; but then, I've realized, it's not really factual. Growing up is not a trap, it's a myth. At least growing up, as we consider it, all the things we expect from it, just never happen... Well it certainly seems like you're doing the things you were hoping to do when grown up, playing the roles you thought were grown up ones. Playing the games you thought were grown up ones, turns out they really weren't.
We humans are as we are, not because of necessity, not because of curiosity, not because of the need to grow. We humans are as we are, because we are dissatisfied, it's not a new idea, it's just plain true, and utterly ironic when one realizes it, and realize it one has to. This is one of those things you just don't comprehend until it happens to you. We are, screwed up to the depths of futility that we are, merely because we're dissatisfied. Not that I condemn it, driving forces are driving forces, fair fodder for the nihilistic mind.
It's just that it's a fucked up driving force, merely pushing, without the slightest sense of direction, looking at it, it's not hard to comprehend how some can remain chronically confused. But even the bliss of their confusion is tempting at times. But original sin, was named aptly, the fruit of knowledge is - just like the one who plucked it - a harsh mistress.
Oh well, temptations come, temptations go, and we keep chasing their shadows, because we're dissatisfied. And the darnedest of them all, the big one, the grand pooh-bah of temptations, the wily one called Tomorrow. It's in cahoots with Time I tell you, or else a conspiracy this big would never survive. Bloody Tomorrow, it's definitely due for a walloping, not if, but when - I catch it. Because I'm dissatisfied with Tomorrow. So dissatisfied.
By this point you must have realized I'm merely rambling, not to any useful conclusion, and it's true, consider this my invitation for you, to be dissatisfied. Tomorrow, we'll go hunting for Tomorrow tomorrow, beat it up together, and be happily dissatisfied. Maybe we'll even be able to land a few hits on Time.
Yet time will go on, whoosh by, hurtle past, with life merrily riding pillion - glancing at everything, looking at nothing, especially hotel room walls.
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