Portrait

grey eyes,
wet eye-lashes,
tired eyes,
full eye-brows,
wrinkled forehead,
grey hair,
wet cheeks,
cut, dried lips,
scruffy face...

"why does grandpa look so sad mommy?" the boy asked.
"that was the day grandpa's only daughter died" the mom replied and took the picture from the boy.

......

Mother died today. Or, maybe, yesterday; the telegram from home said. But Meursault never cried for his mother was dead a long time ago.

It is music that tears me apart. It's only music and watching her leave me that can ever make me cry. And I love this feeling. I must be a masochist in psychological terms, perhaps "in love" in artistic terms and a lunatic in capitalistic terms. It is only now, at such hight of emotions where my senses are so sharp, so sensitive that I understand those are all different labels for the same feeling. I know now that in essence it is the feeling that matters and not its labels.

My goal should not be to find the best label and associate myself with the organization which puts that label on my feelings, thoughts..... my being. My aim should be to reach that feeling and manage to maintain it. It is difficult to really capture these moments let aside maintaining them. It is something I like to call "emotional acrobatics", where you're suddenly shocked with a strong sense and you need to realize it and control it. Very much the same as skiing where you are constantly slipping but you get accustomed to the shock and learn to maneuver around it. You slowly get better at it, until you master the act of skiing.

I want to be the lunatic who fell in love with masochism. I want to expose myself to such emotional moments and test my maneuvering abilities around them. I must become in full control of my feelings. Once I have mastered that, I have nothing to lose thereafter.

It is then that I can truly love others. It is then that my love for others can perhaps become truly unconditional, regardless of their sex, bad deeds, lack of ethics or even savagery towards me. Because it is he who can fall in love with masochism that can perhaps love his savager unconditionally. Because loving your savager is yet another form of masochism.

There is one and only one way which I have discovered for testing my acrobatic skills. I must be fluid. I must adapt my self to my surroundings, while enjoying those moments. I must find the value in every painful moment. I must learn to appreciate every human being for what they have to offer, whether it be good or evil. I must learn to fluidly be in the moment while fully detached from the moment's components. This way I will build a resilience, strange to humanity, towards every moment and learn to cherish the moment for what it has to offer. Separating your self from the moment, while fluidly flowing in the moment is key my friends.

It is the abundance of feelings attached to every moment that stop us from being fluid. Fluidity must come from within though since the outside is too chaotic and out of our control. We must posses full inner control. It is once we have reached a certain level of fluidity, that we can start separating ourselves from the components building the moment.

These moments will disappear my friend. Don't forget that at the end all we have are our laughter and cry and nothing else. Whether you laugh or you cry, make sure you touch someone's heart. Don't worry if today is not your day. Don't let these rainy days make you forget your sunny dreams. Maybe one day your thought alone will be an umbrella for someone's rainy day.

Don't let your heart be unkind to anyone. It's nothing but a mirror what we do. It's nothing but a reflection on ourselves. Don't give anyone an excuse to talk bad of you. Once you're gone there's nothing left of you but your memory.

It is getting warm in my heart. I may have found something to stick onto. My mind is free of predicaments. It has nothing else to worry about. It has acquired a melancholic feeling of boredom. I know now that boredom is the agony of this mind. I know that I need amusement, whether it be a clown performing or another committing suicide. I need to keep this mind occupied at all times with sorrow, hope, vengeance, pain or in other words a perpetual state of fatal happiness. I say fatal, because that is the paradox of happiness. It has a glamorous view from outside and yet a static boredom within. This boredom is so strong that will always force you to look for yet another happy state to live in. It is fatal because it ends itself without any effort or desire from your side. Its essence is lost slowly as you enter it. Its purpose for existence is forgotten once within it. Once you leave it, nothing is left in you but the memory of its glamour at first sight.

This constant struggle of the mind to achieve a happy state is quite strange. This malady of the mind has one cure. Suicide of the mind, mon cher. Death of the mind is the cure. Only death will stop the mind from wondering. Not because it relinquishes conscience, but it puts the mind in a perpetual state of indifference. There is a hidden resilience in indifference. One that will help man bear any condition.

I believe I have found a way to absolute indifference; it is complete acceptance. Yes my friend, what you're thinking is right. Your cat at home doesn't experience your existential crisis anymore. He's well beyond that. Merely because he's learned to accept his condition. He is man’s Sisyphus. Accepting man’s condition is in essence man’s absolute victory over the absurd human condition.

Acceptance of sorrow is the ultimate stage of acceptance. It is then that man achieves absolute pleasure, because only then sorrow turns into a never-ending pleasure. It is then that man will achieve a concious state of constant happiness. It is then that man not only accepts the human condition, but also learns to love it. It's also when death becomes the most extraordinary experience of life; one that man can look forward to. Merely because death alone becomes the only experience which wouldn’t need any acceptance, once being experienced. It is the escaping point from the human condition. It is the moment where the stone stops on top of the hill for Sisyphus.

No matter where he looked, he couldn't find anything to hang onto. He couldn't find the reason to his suspension and yet he was condemend to be suspended. He had the option to free himself from all this chaos and melancholy. His options were not many, there was one way out only. His path to freedom could not be found for free, but he was certain of the outcome.

It seemed like Joseph K. had felt condemned for some time, but no one really knew of what he was condemned. His mind was in chaos, but on the surface he looked ordinary.

I search and search and cannot find the reason for the heavy weight of my despair. What have I done to be punished this way. Why am I so weak. Why are there no other arms but her's that comfort me.

I don't feel like being with anyone. I want to be alone, away from any sort of distraction, so that I could let my mind out of all this chaos. I want to search for the real reason of all this absurdity. I want to know what they really mean when they claim that I am depressed. Can these people really prove that I am depressed. It is really easy to judege others, but not so easy to justify your judgement. It is just like the court-rooms in this city. It is really easy for the judge to condemn the accused but the turth is that the judge is never certain about his decision.
So am I really depressed. I myself, don't even know for certain whether I am or not, so how can they know for sure. Where exactly is that line of certainty in one's decision making. I don't even think there's such line. I think the reality is that truth is what we want to be and not what really is.
I don't believe in absolute truth anymore. Many men have searched for the truth and neither have found it. I believe they have searched all paths, which I may go through if in search of truth. I now know truth is simply an axiom created by imagination. This axiom has the essence of truth to human mind, only because it is created by the human mind. I shall never search for the real truth anymore but instead create it for the sake of my peace for my mind is in chaos only in the absence of truth.