Essay About Nothingness
I remember how I gyrated myself in mud when I was three, I remember hitting the eye of my grandmother with a stone when I was five, I remember going to terrace alone at night while my cousins played inside, I remember sitting aside all angry whenever I went out with family, I remember how I hit my head to stone wall repeatedly when father asked me to go on a school trip, I remember hitting my head hard with iron press when he asked me to switch on the light while watching television, I remember not giving my final chemistry exam in first year for no reason, I remember giving up valuable things for no reason, I remember crying for no reason, I remember cursing myself for all these reasons.
There are many disorders that half fit to define this disorder but not an accurate one. It’s not bipolar because there is depression but no mania. It is self loathing but the self hate eventually clears out to be replaced by self love. Maybe it’s not a disorder and if it is — it is deep-seated in every individual. People have different contrivance to parade it with some expressions completely hidden, not even the bearer realizes them.
Children never commit mistakes that make them hate themselves for life because they don’t know the difference between right and wrong so their mistakes are not actually their mistakes. Why do some kids hate themselves then? Some say it’s because they don’t consider themselves beautiful or intelligent or worthy as their fellows. But what does a three year old child know about glamor, smartness and other qualities?
Jealousy is an indispensable part of human nature. Self hate is a definable term. It’s not self hate that makes us do self harming act1s. It is a mixture of self hate, self love, chaos, jealousy, madness, loneliness and misery. While these states preponderate this disorder, a very basic emotional receptivity is missing here — HAPPINESS! Happiness has nothing to do with life of such people. They laugh and enjoy but not really — that joy is the demand of the society of all times.
Human beings want to do everything at the same time — Guns and Violence plus Books and Culture! This type of mentally ill people want success but thinking about it makes it humdrum and they find working for it counterproductive. Some believe that when you start doing drugs and cutting yourself, you can’t possibly do any sort of avant-garde work — but —it’s wrong!
Because it’s not the physical harm that turns us out. It is the mental state that makes us do things and prevents us from doing them. We want to seek attention and hibernate at the same time. We want to mutilate ourselves to the core but we want to live. We can spend a year or two of peace and tranquility, a normal life and we think that now it’s over — we are mature but we never mature. We go back to the original calamitous nature.
Anthropophobia is a dominant characteristic of such people. No illness lasts forever, if it’s anthropohobia today, it’ll be human love tomorrow. Centrally, all human beings get tired — of themselves, of others, of everything. Happiness never lasts forever neither do the urge for happiness.
There is a limit after which we get tired and if not the destiny, we ourselves create reasons to set sadness in motion. Sadness has more power than happiness, it is less boring than happiness but the world demands happiness so we continue the cycle to pursue happiness to shut others. We think that it will satisfy us but it never does. Eventually, we get tired of sadness too.
Our mind is in state of acceptance and rejection of who we are or what we ought to be. We are at constant war with ourselves. In fact we are not we, we are no one. It’s just a soul in a body and it’s interpretation is very difficult.
We want to be a gentleman, gain knowledge, know everything, we want to try but the hollow end of everything puts an end to our efforts. We can get two things by doing work — happiness or sadness. Some of us find both of them futile, they don’t find any of the two worth working for, so they start doing nothing, killing time. When the desire for happiness ends, there is an extreme urge for sadness.
But when the desire for happiness and sadness ends — it’s a blur. These people laugh at those working for success and those drowning in dolor. They go where the wind takes them — at least oxygen is the only key to their survival. During all this chaos, man is unable to find himself. After all this chaos, he still searches for himself but never finds himself!
