On Fear

Of course it is scary. Knowing nothing scares humans. I'm not even sure of the things I actually have. Maybe I've learnt something and obtained some other things after all these years. Maybe I've had nothing to begin with. While people around me are going on with their lives, their struggles, problems and contemplations, perhaps I am the one who has been running on a circular track. Ignorant and childishly oblivious. Vain and obnoxious. Boy, how terrible this nightmarish thought is. So horribly frightening that I could understand why some would avoid to think about it in the first place and end up sinking deeper into the hellhole of an egoist's irrationality.

Trust only yourself, and you might end up lost. Doubt yourself too much, and you might lose yourself. It's not that there's no 'wrong' way to live your life. Instead, there is no such thing as a 'correct' way to begin with. "Find your own balance", said your mind, said your peers and your folks. But how? With what kind of gauge should I measure my thoughts? What kind of causes should I believe in? What kind of dreams should I take up and follow? Life isn't a game with a single walkway to achieve the perfect ending, there is no 'save and load' nor a reset button.

Or maybe it is in fact, a game. Some might think so and nobody could really say it's wrong either. If that's the case, you may hate the game, but respect the players. As this journey in time advances, people grow to be more 'pleasant'. To strategize more and adapt to a more suave, curvy way of living - to be straight forward is to be elementary and crude. We thought peers would be our primary forces in checking our balance, but who could blame them when their priorities are to be nice, elegant and velvety, instead of being a nagging nurturer and a busybody. Privacy is something everybody seeks in this age of transparency, and don't forget - as bearers of a life of their own, they are shouldering the same shares of stakes, duties and worries as you are. Staking yourself on cold readings could help to reassure yourself. But then you could've been thinking too much and falling into the second category, and your mind couldn't stress this enough: why would they think about you when they have a lot more to tend to?

It is when humans are left alone, even with freedom, that they would self-destruct eventually out of the lack of focus and their inert insecurities, resulting in corrupting paranoia. Reject the temptation prematurely, and they could fall into a state of apathy instead. When a swindler could use it to trick their preys into self-depreciation, a vile companion could depend on that to eliminate their peers without getting their own hands dirty. As they said, keep your friends close but your enemies closer. It's sickening. Foul. Revolting. But if life could be a game, it could be a war. It could be love. It could be fair.

Nauseating.

Notice that I've stopped using first grammatical person after the first paragraph. Yes. Here I am, a weak consciousness, feeling ill when it gets all disturbing. If life were an unending mystery or a fascinating enigma, it could be a sun; a floating, violent fireball. Me. What am I? What on Earth am I? 

I'd like to think that my mind to me is like fangs to a wolf and a pair of wings to a butterfly. The moth I saw once, however, was burnt to death when it flew too close to the candlelight it loves.

Unfortunately, that's the wrong answer.