The other side of writing

  1. “I had to write” – After a night of literal nausea and vomiting, I had to write, in hopes that this convalescence might do me good. Suddenly all the bad things that swept over me were arranged in gallery-ordered sequence. What happened? Never did the past circumstances make me feel vulnerable to these things. But now, I feel weak. It was almost as if this is the beginning of the end. You see, I always have the premonition that I will not live long – that something catastrophic will hand me over to my final point. So I have to write for the ideas I cannot share in death, for the loved ones I care about, for the ideals that are not going to be, and for the freedom that perhaps death can at best offer. But this is not the other side of writing: it is not the loving memorial of the lost art of letter-making, but the expression of dying feelings and ideals, in which a timeline would not be enough to convey.
  2. “What I deplore” – I deplore the truth that is convenient only for us.
  3. “Castration” – Did anyone notice how Jean Grey, in the Apocalypse film, released her goddess-like phoenix telepathic power and stripped (almost castrated) Apocalypse of his regalia? That, symbolically, is also how perfectly attractive women render the men of the cloth vulnerable of their sacerdotal identity and reveals – leaves them behind with – the sorry excuse of their fragile humanity. Not only that particular set of men, but of any great man, a basketball superstar or a famous actor, who truly lived what greatness means and all of a sudden a woman shows up and renders that power useless. The comedian Bill Burr fashions the same mechanism women utilize and branded it as gold-digging, when even no successful and great man can resist and dismiss as happenstance. The quaint historical Delilah is and would be at it again to cut (ah, here exactly equating as “to castrate”) the hair of our modern Samsons.
  4. “In one’s best friend” – In one’s best friend lies one’s best enemy. But the plot for counter-attack is also true: in one’s best enemy, one should investigate every detail and flaw as if the enemy is also one’s best friend.
  5. “A fair warning” – There is a wise reason behind eternal punishment. One must be careful not to think that it does not exist. Those who really live the dictum carpe diem as hedonistic as possible might suffer a shock when an after-life torture is brought to them in the here-and-now.
  6. “You’d pay much for ideology” – Other than the widening disengagement towards the normal fancies that ordinary life offers, the most viable remedy is most often and the only detour back to ordinary life itself. What we have, in the most ordinary sense of the term, is a catastrophic realization that even the most normal things in life are trapping nets of an ideology we are willing to pay much for.
  7. “For the beloved” – You know who you are and what you need. Pursue your dreams and cast away the miserable future you think would cause you to be alone. You are never going to be. I will have no other words to express except to tell you in the near-death experience that I can no longer hold a part of you in me because I need you to be whole again. Get the missing piece and go. You will only extract the sordid lesson of ends and how to reach it gracefully. I love you.
  8. “For the loved ones” – I will never be grateful enough. How can I? You have put me in a position where I cannot repay you for the things you’ve done. And I don’t have an eternity to pay it back. Nobody else is certain about these kinds of things. In a scriptural manner, I wish you the same: “Keep warm and well-fed” and that shall be the end of it.
  9. “For my cynicism” – You people are going to be the same. The last man shall live again. The most solitary cave shall survive its extant worshipers. You will live a gazillion millennia ahead of me and that’s fine. Play the part that you need to play in this world. I will have you tossed about in my eternal rest – in my signatory of another failure who once faced you dead.
  10. “For my freedom” – the perennial question it seems needs to be addressed. There is no freedom that I can come up on my own. I only have a few passing days and they are at best the moments of eternity one can desperately ask for. I will have no regrets and resentments. For as long as I have truly lived, there a portion, nay a pinch, of an access to pure freedom awaits.
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