Solitude is an inseparable part of a human being. People- especially hypocrites of society, would go crazy when left alone for two hours. However, a person who loves to be left in seclusion would go nuts while indulging in the company of people. The reason behind this is that they do not wish to participate in a ‘society with masquerade’.
Sometimes, it is impractical to write something of your own causing one to stare at a blank page unknowingly. However, it is the same page and the same sight which provokes you to fill words on the said page.
It is difficult in our society to inspire others because the impression of influence often leads to jealousy or hatred. Jealousy is inevitable and contagious; once it strengthens its roots in the minds of people, it will cause them to plot against you, giving their all in trying to overthrow you. This jealousy or hatred will evolve through generations.
You are probably thinking that the above three statements don’t connect with one another. This is true because my own thoughts betrayed me into jotting something on this blank page, and my loneliness wandered to collect precious words only to inspire. What we think and what we write is essentially a formation of words to represent ourselves. Even one’s own knowledge has become a form of gossip.
Harper Lee, the author of “To Kill a Mockingbird” once stated, “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his own point of view until you climb inside of his skin and walk around it”. It is true that we cannot imagine the sadness of an individual who has lost a dear one, and the words of condolences that we offer during funerals aren’t enough to console a person, instead, they just stab through and penetrate their heart. Ask yourself how you would feel if you heard the same words over and over again stating, “I am sorry for your loss”, or “he/she was a great person”. It stabs the already wounded soul with every line of sympathy and we unintentionally cut that soul deeper. Our world has become so attitudinized that the credibility of emotions is being lost and feelings are set aside merely for socializing. I know that many won’t agree because this sin is committed continuously, becoming a virtue which is then defended by our eloquence. We have to masquerade ourselves with the convention of deception.
My personal research showed that human beings are found most valuable when they die. No one speaks well of anyone until death takes place. We are living in a fast moving world, an exotic era, where being famous is everyone’s choice. However, let’s be reminded that no one is truly famous and that no-one cares about who you are and what you do. It’s an era where you have to live a good life while keeping up with the pace of the world. Actors, wrestlers, writers, and sportsman all become unknown after their death–the finality of their death is a reminder that people don’t actually care.
I am not writing this for myself or for anyone else, in fact, I am only writing because I have to.My own thoughts are haunting me, and it seems that I am seeking awareness of the world in which I have been crawling. Every writer brings their own style to the table, and we can’t judge them for it because all writers spend and waste their time only to gather good digest for readers.
In “Black Milk” ElifShafak says,“Every reader brings his or her own gaze to the text and ends up reading the story differently”.