Living With Frustration and Acceptance

All around, he only sensed a never-ending sense of drudgery, stagnation and ruts of all kinds.

Maybe it was the environment – summer was there; somedays it wasn’t; or maybe it was the never-ending stream of news that contained only gloom, doom and everything in between,; he didn’t know for sure. But constantly, on a daily basis he would feel the same few things; as if every drop of motivation and feelings of wonder and curiosity towards life were being slowly, steadily, gradually sucked out of him by something invisible, like a thin, plastic parasitic pipe that served to just about keep him alive on mundane things like gossip and on-screen dopamine containing mostly nudity and crass language. Something just didn’t feel right. He wanted to get high and make it right. But he knew, that wasn’t the right answer; it would just be the right answer for that day; not for all the other times when highs of other kinds were probably required. Was he depressed? He couldn’t say for sure. He didn’t know. He felt he did not know anything. He hated this feeling. Was it the heat? Or maybe his food wasn’t that great; somehow he felt he had absolutely no energy to do whatsoever. He screamed.

He was a good human being. He was sure of it.

Yes, he wasn’t proud of many of the thoughts he thought, but he was sure he was a good person who wanted only the best for everyone. He wished he could rip out his brain and start afresh with a clean slate; once all the junk in it had been removed. He seized his head and screamed again; almost as if he could detect the presence of unwelcome visitors in it. He decided he was overthinking. Why else would images of mutants surrounding and operating upon his head with blood and brains all over, pop up in his mind’s eye? Maybe all he wanted was just a long, hit. You know, to calm his brains down. He wasn’t sure if the last batch of stash he had used was that good. The withdrawal symptoms had been so weird. But he was fine now. He really was. Biologically, there was nothing wrong with him. But he was sure something around his environment was. Maybe he wasn’t talking to other human beings as much as he should. He had never done so. He should do so now.

He decided to close his eyes and revisit the meditation lessons he had learnt 2 months ago. He should have been practicing instead of procrastinating and filling his head with junk. “As you sow, so shall you reap”, a voice suddenly reverberated from his head in an old man’s voice. He had heard this old man before. Where exactly, he couldn’t place as of this moment. Another voice came “knowledge and health, mate. Chase knowledge and health, and you’re sure to find the rest of the mental stimulations you’re looking for, natural or synthetic”. Ah, knowledge and health. Yes, knowledge and health, he kept repeating to himself. This was the mantra indeed. Yet, he felt as if he was blindly chasing the next dose of dopamine as and when he felt like it, like a never-ending loop of pleasure that could only stop with his physical or mental breakdown; spectacularly for all to see. He wished he could upgrade his body’s hardware and update himself with fancy new hardware and software. The physical body was too limiting. All of us needed to become cyborgs once materials science technology was advanced enough to reduce the cost of artificial body parts and help everyone upgrade themselves.

He couldn’t understand why he was thinking like this.

Wasn’t he happy with what he had? Maybe it was because over the last 2 weeks, he had managed to screw his health over not once, but twice over. And how? It was so simple. All he had done was drink lesser water than usual, screw over his stomach with some choice foods like mixing processed potato chips by the kilo and a fruit called pineapple; and also sleep lesser than usual to boot. That was all that it took for him to become as dysfunctional as a rock. Heck, he couldn’t even muster up the energy to read a book. He needed to upgrade his body parts. He had decided. He had so many things to do that he was turning himself mad with paranoia. Somehow, he wanted to do make things happen fast. Health, wealth, looks everything. He wanted all of it fast. He knew it would take a few years, but things seemed to be going so slow. How could he fasten it up?

He screamed again. And then remembered to drink water.

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