O happy world take this glass of wine away
Take me where heart of a man resides happily?
Is there exist such a place where my heart can say ah, “Sublime and beautiful”
Why there is so pain in this world?
Who will see every disturbed soul in tears at night?
Where are the comforts of home?
Where is love O poor poet you are searching in vain?
Now you have became wise but at what cost?
You dared to cast away your innocence now witness the cruelty of mankind
I am waiting for a Messiah? Where is he?
Why hasn’t the lost Messiah come yet?
“The World is My Idea” this is a truth which holds good for everything that lives and knows
To Schopenhauer’s masterpiece the world as will and idea
Schopenhauer is more closer to me than my father
Schopenhauer is the essence of my soul
I read and re-read his first page of the volume world as idea
Schopenhauer writes, “No truth therefore is more certain, more independent of all others and less in need of proof then this, that all that exists for knowledge, and therefore this whole world is only object in relation to subject, perception of a perceiver in a word, idea.”
All my problems are gone once I read Schopenhauer
This world exists because I exist and what will my life be without having my own place in it?
A void, a nothingness, therefore I read Schopenhauer everyday
My words are like sword of Achilles
My ambitions are like Divork symphonic genius
A rebel is a man who says “No” says Camus
In order to exist man must rebel
Against the weak cultures and relations
One ought to destroy others or oneself ?
To preserve oneself one must became a destroyer
An immoralist, iconoclastic, pessimistic soothsayer
Life of a rebel at best is a lonely one
Why mourn the dead? When we know it all means nothing but absurdity and useless tears and weakness in human nature
Perhaps answer to such questions can never be given as humans are highly emotional beings, they are only sentimental temporary for the time being and such sorrows are overcome by the torment of time and labor
Dear stranger you might consider me a misanthrope or a monster
Humans need to evolve from such petty triflings and face the the empty void of human intimacy
Only when someone closer to us dies we instantly became aware of the phenomenon of death and mourn for the loss. We are not aware that million dies everyday and millions are born everyday such is the catastrophic event of life dear stranger for mankind on this wretched planet
As Nietzsche envisioned greater men, the over man faithful to earth that much in Man is still worm. Why mourn then? Is it going to bring the person back? Why should one shed tears for the gone? Why not invest those energies for the new, audacious and stronger human race. Now tell me? what have you done to Overcome yourself O weaklings of human race?
Being towards death teaches Heidegger that Death is everyday phenomenon and there is nothing tragic or mournful about it. One has to accept bravely and stand face to face to it when ever it approaches with no remorse or reward or justice to eternity and nothing can justify human existence that it was a grand mistake
Perhaps Socrates is my ideal for facing death voluntarily and willingly except Plato who mourned his rebellion in his Pheado dialogue
What do I live for? My soul is lost into abyss
Nihilism is my greatest enemy and friend. Oh ask not how I suffered?
Since a child not a happy moment came to rescue for my troubled soul
I am all alone lost like Odysseus and homer is turned into dust
How can I escape my present moment?
What torturers me is not my past but present
Present moment is the only reality all else is just in imagination
Where to go? Whom to call?
Who will listen?
Why brag,? why complain to strangers on the internet?
Why not kill oneself?
Perhaps I am a mediocrity and a coward unable to end my life
It was much easier to became a proud nihilist than a suicidal
Genius of Frued and rebellion of Foucault in history of Sexuality
Forbidden desires of flesh, repressed thoughts enforced by culture and religion are enemy of man’s happy state of mind
A man in extreme anguish could only be rescued by love of a young girl
My mood entirely changed following the recklessness of Zorba the Greek
If a women approaches to a man there could be no greater sin than not going to comfort her in her bed argues a wise Turk back in the day
Why resist inner temptations?
Why not let a young girl do her magic?
Touch of a women’s hand is a cure for all mental ailments
Welcome this new age of sentiments
My soul at once is at peace
A solitary gaze looks at the world
So, what if literature is my only salvation?
A man can either exist or express
Or can a man of sound reasoning express what he feels
Normality is being questioned for my madness
Social awkwardness and lonesomeness a trail
The sun, the wind understood me more than people around me
Who’s fault is it if not my artistic temperaments
The Sun asked the Moon with voluptuous fad
“Where thee Art? When I “The Sun” the light, the source of life appears in midst of darkness and vacuity of the void in space
The Moon with its senility and contempt remained silent
The Sun with its magnanimity continued, “You imposter, ye imitator, ye mediocre lifeless stone. I the “Sun” is real and master of the universe.”
The Moon unable to tolerate its own truth henceforth think of a lie, any lie to succumb Sun out of its vain glory
I the “Moon” is an imposter, a fraud for a just cause, I steal thy light O sun and shed it on earth when you hide in your abode the earth is shadowed with my shine and delight
I am forever bound to earth the only living stone amongst your universe of dead stones ye God Sun!
The Sun with imperative confusion replied, “I never left Earth alone but Earth rotates on its own axis and show resentment towards its own benefactor the “Sun” ah, what ennui, lofty turpitudes and venomous hatred”
The Moon succeeded finally in his devilish task of dismantling Sun of its existence
A state of Aporia exists surrounding the whole Universe
Who will bring salvation from all paradoxes?
The Sun and The Moon looks towards Earth in a state of Aporia