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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1730050-Solidarity
by Sleepy
Rated: E · Prose · Emotional · #1730050
The expression of loneliness at 12 o'clock on a friday night.
Why must we think? What cruel trick of Darwin gave animals the ability to ponder? We have created a world for ourselves separate from that of nature. We exist amongst a jungle of fluorescent lights. In this infinite confinement we struggle to make sense of something that has no purpose. Something that does not want us to understand it. Our weak attempts at adaptation have manifested themselves in the multitude of problems that plague the souls of each member of our population. Women. The saving grace. The beacon of light in world of obscurity. Woman, perhaps, in order to avoid confusion. Not just any woman but- her. There seems to be only one thing in this universe that has the power to alleviate the pain of inevitability. The distress of insignificance. That one person who makes you feel like a bad cliché. Whole. Unworried. Content. Happy, I daresay. Finding this soulmate, this other half; it seems to be our singular quest in life. Some strange blending of the biological need to mate passed down from generations of ancestors before us with the relatively newfound creation of consciousness. Without this other person our lives are meaningless. We try to fill the spaces in time with distractions; with trivialities. But our attention is only pulled away for so long until it reverts back upon itself and sees emptiness. A chasm. Neverending. We devote our lives to filling this hole before time can emerge victorious, living every second in search of substance. To stop time. To have the ability to make the world stand still while you look at six billion different faces trying to find the one that speaks to you. Only you. Yet, this is the naïve dream of the unrealistic romantic for any true human being realizes that our lives are not merely the images we see but rather a dynamic set of experiences. We cannot possibly find ourselves in another if we do not experience them as well, yet we do not have the time in our lives to experience everyone and so we hope that against all odds some divine power will guide us together with no respect to physical boundaries and our lives will have meaning. We look to those around us for guidance yet what we see strikes fear into the depths of our souls; into a place few deign to view out of terror for what they might find hidden there. The world is not a happy place. Mediocrity and settlement are a fate worse than death but except for the lucky few it is a destiny most will endure. Looking back on our childhoods we understand the relationships of our parents with the wisdom that adults have earned through trials and tribulations. But what is there to do if not to hope? What if against all odds we do encounter the missing pieces of our soul in the form of another human being? And what if our oversized cortexes have simply outgrown our evolutionary needs? Perhaps we are no longer the fittest but rather a mockery of the streamlined efficiency that is nature. But to think as such is to accept defeat whether it be true or not; and to admit defeat is to become what we all dread most: worthless. No. We persevere. And in this perhaps the pessimists have it wrong. Perhaps we are not a blight on the surface of our once pristine planet. Perhaps the very thing that makes us fit is the ability to persevere in the face of inevitable and impending doom. Perhaps we are not simply the result of the interconnection of too many wires all active at the same time. Perhaps the next step in the process of evolution will not take place in the refinement of hunting methods but rather in the expansion of our thoughts. But I do not believe that we will ever outgrow the need for others to convince us that our worst fears and doubts are merely that; the stuff of shadows. We will always need- I. will always need to have someone occupying at least a quarter of my mind at any given time lest I drown in my own musings. I am of the firm belief that it is the important duty of women to drive men incessantly insane so as to prevent them from performing that action first. And so I write from the depths of my chasm trying to fill the spaces in time until I can seek her out. Until I can fill the void with a single entity. Until then.
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