Indulging in a Fantasy of Delusion

 I soar. A bird. A powerful bird. I am the most powerful entity there is and there ever was to be. The bliss as I glide over my dominion. Such crushing power under my thumb. I dream of flying. Or rather, falling. I dream of radiating a powerful energy that provokes utter marvel. The people of my kingdom stand aghast in admiration. But of course I do not see them. I have closed my eyes and entered a penitent state. As I open my eyes, my sleek figure slides past two tree trunks in so impressive a manner that the action of sliding and gliding, though unpremeditated, would not stand a remote chance of replicability, even by the most nimble birds.

I am a god. But no. Even deities are flawed. I am a Leviathan. My brain has attained a self-sustaining, incomprehensibly aloof state of function, requiring no one, no thing, no idea to validate itself. This world is meant for me. I am the world. I am everyone. I feel everyone and everything at once. I hunteth not the worm, but watch my soul do its part in this ephemeral body, until it is ready to move on. In painful moments, I merely watch the conflict between my body and nature.

I am not my body. I am not my soul. I am not myself. I am not even a god. I need not the people, nay not even this world. I shall float through an empty void, and still watch myself on this lowly world from afar, knowing that nothing is real, but nonetheless partaking in the grand illusion of life that is the root of this chaos. Then, it shall befall me, in this meditative state, that the solitary antidote to this plague of chaos is the convergent route of destruction. Without this world, there shall be no source of complaint. Destruction. Utter obliteration.

We must exist without the confines of the fourth dimension of time. Only once this has happened would man evade his foolish fear of uncertainty. We shall live entirely in memory. We shall realize that we truly are powerless to change the world around us, but possess the capacity of rumination--the ability to feel, to experience, to vicariously act, without the blinding visage of "reality". I will unlock humanity's fetters and revel in the joy of collective detachment.

Each night, man stops just short of liberation. Dreams are our only means of escaping from this world. I shall watch as my body continues to live on. A great sadness pours over me. As if struck by a hot, piercing bolt of lightning, a great remorse befalls me. My great attachment to this world pulls me and I snap back to "reality". In the reality my body lives in, it is 10:30 pm. My parents have called, and I now must practice my piano and then go to sleep now. I am no longer an omnipotent source of truth. I am just myself. just myself.

After indulging in this dreary state of remorse for 5 minutes, I have made the fateful decision to just go an practice piano now. Otherwise it'll get too late and I'll wake up late and oh...the fear of such a reality frightens me to such a degree that I shall just go to practice now. But no. A part of me pulls back, clinging onto the remnant sliver of happiness that this writing has given me. But that sliver is not real. I know that, and have learned so many times since. I'll just go practice piano now. Good night.

Almighty Ruler of this Blog if not this universe,

- Ravit

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My Summer

Thoughts on LLMs and Modeling

A Realization