Night is a state of mind.
Like an emotion that gently blankets the soul and leaves the hapless stranded midst muddy days and lonely nights. The daylight hours distract. They take away attention from the obvious…that we will end up alone on our backs in the dark watching the fan blades dance lazily in the hot humid air to the buzzing sound of mosquitoes, someone snoring or croaking of frogs. But then does it really matter when thoughts are the subterfuge in the merry go round of existence?
The doleful, melancholic and syrupy song of Help me make it through the Night reflects the pack instinct that resides in each of us. Afraid to be alone. To curl up foetus like on a double bed distraught with “aloneness”. Why does this mean so much to so many of us. To feel a warm pulsating body…to cling to…to share…is it the ‘back to the womb syndrome’? Or is it merely a sense of wanting to belong… to be wanted…afraid of dying alone.
The string of everyday gymnastics seem to wind up that dynamo that spurs us on to believing that the next day would be better, more fruitful and maybe profitable. Usually it is just another day followed by just another night. The cycle continues. And madness takes hold and makes sense out of all this.
I believed once that the world would change into a better place, a place where one could frolic in fantasy and nestle in the creases of karma, an accepted proven formula for all things bright and beautiful. Years on the belief has changed to one of exhausted illusions, with the word ‘love’ run threadbare.
New generations rise and fall like the tide of a river, while eddies are the brief moments of ecstasy set to befuddle even the most astute of us.
When the sun sets on yet another day to the raucous refrain of ducks wading through a rice field, I contemplate the meaning of living and end up coming to naught, which in essence is the Universe.
Everything exists in the zero.
Like echoes of sadness that always resonate in the dark.
And as these thoughts take flight into the land of Nod, I patiently wait my turn to die.
For what is life when there so much to die for?
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om