Crossroads

she scans, stands still, finding her future,

a path, some road, leading her somewhere.

"where to?", she asks, there is no answer.

all lost, alone, middle of nowhere.

credits on http://nigh-euphoria.deviantart.com/art/Crossroads-305067018

Wish

Wishing is futile because you are putting your faith into vessels. You can wish upon anything at all. Save the effort, stop wishing and start doing. No fairy godmother will come and help you out. No genie will appear to grant you 3 wishes.

I can wish upon my cup, my chair, my laptop, and it will be as good as wishing upon Jupiter or Odin. Wishing only becomes meaningful when you wish it upon yourself - when you start doing.

Why wish upon anything else, when you can will yourself? If the gods only help you when you help yourself, why not simply help yourself?

You are the only one who can give meaning to your life.

memory

Does anyone remember those warriors who fought with all their might hundreds, thousands of years ago and died on the battlefield? Are all those farmers who pioneered the Agricultural Revolution still remembered?

Existence in a metaphysical sense is limited. What I am curious to inquire is in its human context; that is, the impression you make on the world. 

Putting a spin on the good old "if a tree falls in a distant jungle and no one hears it, has it fell?" analogy, if you lived in a hut somewhere out in the distant jungles and no one knows of you, would you have existed? 

The death of a human spirit.

He was just a normal boy who believed in ideals. If you tried hard enough, things work out for you. All he wanted was to be loved and to love. All he wanted was to do what he always wanted to do, study what he wanted to study. All he wanted was to be happy. He truly believed in fate, in all that magic and wonder it promised. He tried hard for what he wanted, because he believed that he can do anything as long as he tried. He loved with all his might, with all that his soul can offer. He believed in ideals, in beautiful things, and that they existed in this world.

Yet everyone he met were already tainted and corrupted by the forces of reality. They did not have that twinkle he had in his eyes. They believed not in true love, effort or fate. They believed in power, authority and the inevitability of the social structure. They simply had no time for ideals. All that they believed in was reality and tangibility. Foolish adults, he thought. There is simply nothing more beautiful than ideals! 

He did not falter even in the face of such pessimism. He lived his life, continued to pursue his endeavors. 

He continued to pursue the girl he had always liked. He tried to be her everything. He loved with all that his soul can muster and one fine day, he decided to confess his love for her. Surely, it will all work out? After all, that's what fairy tales always say. Try hard enough and the world is your oyster, no? He told her that he loved her, and she told him she was not ready. Fair enough. He waited. Days, weeks and eventually months passed. No news, yet he assumed she was still thinking. Foolish boy. Oh how surprised he was, when he eventually found out the sick, ugly truth of the world. Her friend told him that she now has a boyfriend. "You like her, don't you? Did you know that she is already seeing someone?" No, he did not. She had not said anything. He was waiting like a sitting duck, like a lamb to the eventual slaughter.

He continued to follow his academic dreams. He always loved his subject. He always wanted to study that higher level course in his school. Even though he was a plebeian, he tried, and he did well even though he joined in the class later. At the end of the year he did well, so he decided to apply for that course. He truly believed he could do it, since he had tried so hard. If only he had read the previous paragraph. Results came. Barely any plebeians got in. It was flooded with the high elites, those who live in a different caste. He did well, they did great. Their social standards were different. They had help from the gods, the real gods - the social superstructure - themselves. All he had was himself. Eventually he could not even go to his dream school, because he had no money - no power. As everyone traveled around the world sightseeing, all he had were his books and computer. He was alone, powerless.

The twinkle in his eyes was gone. Ideals are false. Ideals exist only to juxtapose just how ridiculous and absurd reality is. There is no perfect ending. Thee is no perfection. People get things not because they tried, but because they have power, because they were bestowed with predisposed assets. I believe not in true love, effort or fate. I believe in power, authority and the inevitability of the social structure. I simply have no time for ideals. All that I believe in is reality and tangibility. There is simply nothing uglier than ideals. 

meaning.

they say that many of the stars you now see in the night sky, all their brilliance and beauty, are from stars that have long since died. All that is left is the light it once emitted.

When you wish upon a star, you are wishing upon something that is no longer there beyond a strong beam of photons.Your wishes are dead, meaningless, just like these stars.

To the fallen stars your wishes go, in the void your beliefs drown.