Dyspeptalk #15

There is a stench of failure in the wind.

You have tried enough. You have given yourself into what you did.
Exams. Relationship. Baking a cake.
But you failed.
That’s inevitable. Try as hard as you can and should, you will inevitably, fail.

The fault lies not in you. The fault lies in a thousand statistical probabilities and a million hands playing the card of fates that have condemned you to embracing you the tag of a loser.
Win, and it shall be your own virtue.
Lose, and it is the vice of fates.
Don’t blame yourself. It will do you no better than the results which have abandoned your happiness today.

The world is full of problems.
The world is in a steady state of disintegration.
Don’t blame the realists because they see it sooner than you do. Don’t blame the rationalists because they believe in it.
It’s a law of nature. Nature and science. Science and futility. The entropy of the world consistently increases.
The waves shall break the shores some more. The trucks shall crack the highway wider.
Failures shall send your efforts to waste.

But listen to me, try.
Try even when there is no point in trying. Make a joke even when no one is laughing. Laugh even when bizarre events of cacophony stares you into the face.
Because, what more can you do?

You know you tried. You know you remembered everything you studied out of your xeroxed notes, until the exam pressure swept it all off and left you with a blank head with buzzing lyrics of half finished songs.
Disconcerting than a hornets hum. Disturbing than radio static.

I know. I have heard it play in my mind, over and over again.
But don’t give up. Not yet.
Nukes are flying our way. The sun is pulling us into its fiery grasp inch by inch. There will be laws that shall imprison our thoughts soon.
Till then, we are society’s only hope.
To protect them. To save them. To rescue them.
From themselves.

We are the border between what’s good and immoral.
We, who fail, who cry, who fall down. We know how to pick up the pieces. We know how to live even when there is no reason to live for.

Listen to me, live.
You’ll be doing yourself a favour. You’ll be doing everything you’ve strived for, a favour.
Don’t give up. There is a plan somewhere. You’ll get to it somehow, somewhere.
Till then, make a joke.
Till then, crack a smile.

Because apocalypse is coming for all of us, just or unjust, alike.
Let’s prove a few points before we go down.
And when we do succumb to battle wounds, let’s go out fighting.

Because what else in life makes sense, but that?



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