Welcome Adventurer!
A place for me to share my frivolous writing with the world
Posts
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Waves
Waves are the culmination or the representation of one’s own identity; each wave represents a memory, experience, moment in our lives, stress, conflicts and traumas all incoherently intertwined however when one state/wave overtakes all the others tribulation transpires
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Creativity
I’ve always admired creativity despite not being aware of its significance. Perhaps it is the representation of one’s ideology or the exhortation of their desires. Something which cannot be expressed through mere words alone. Why go through such an arduous task just to voice your opinion? The insoluble dilemma to be discerned by esoteric individuals or remain an enigma for eternity. Articulation of meaning and the voice of begrudging words.
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Key insights from Man's Search For Meaning by Victor E. Franke
- Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedom—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.
- No one has the right to do wrong; not even if wrong has been done to them
- Suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning
- The neurotic who learns to laugh at himself may be on the way to self-management
- Anticipatory anxiety —> paradoxical intention
- Every human being has the freedom to change at any instant
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Critical Review of Hard times by Charles Dickens
Hard times, a novel written by Charles Dickens in 1854 during the Victorian era of London. A work of “fiction” that describes events during the dawn of industrial revolution. Dickens emphasized the importance of reality in his works of fiction, hoping to enlighten others about the changes brought about by the rise of utilitarianism and to shed light on the neglected ghosts of the society. Only a ghost can perceive another; “Charles started working at a London warehouse, he worked daily for twelve hours at a stretch in a shoe factory where shoes were manufactured, cleaned and packed and the small wages which he got was just enough to support his family at this difficult time. This period of hardship played a significant role in his life as he has faced the ample unpleasant experiences as a growing young man which he portrayed in many of his works.” In this work, Dickens informs his audience a detail of the issues that confide in the 19th Century ranging from; mechanization of society, economic crisis and the philosophy of utilitarianism which are still relevant to the world today.
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Apocalyptic Apocrypha
“Name!” cried Johan, infinite sadness resonated in his voice – the mournful toll of a requiem. Deafening silence followed with shrieks of pain; with decent resignation, you decide to look towards your friend: Johan. Appalled you notice that your friend lay on the ground; surrounded by a pool of red-velvet blood, stream of it flowed through the large piece of bitten flesh around his neck; thick enough to abate the raging of the sea, however, there was no sign of the zombie that had bitten him. Brooding frantically with direful uniformity, you begin being eminently cautious of your surroundings. Trudging footsteps resonated with the rustling of leaves – slowly and silently. Following the trail of the cacophonous sound, you catch a glimpse of your friend’s body – still as a rock, observing it brings vindictive images to your mind; overwhelmed with evocative memories. What do you do? A. Runaway B. Fight with the pocketknife in your hand If (a): Wise choice – You tactfully retreated If (b): You strike the zombie with the pocketknife, but the wound isn’t deep enough – you get bitten. “One must learn to distinguish what should be done in order to avoid the consequences of what is done”. Inevitably, you die.
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Closure
I remember the scene; almost as if it were like yesterday. Despite it occurring several years back. Although the events that followed before and after still elude me. It was the day of our class play; the whole day we stood on the hot ground practicing with dreary steps; however, the sun showed us no mercy, intently glaring upon us, while the wind remained stagnant. Drenched in sweat and with my parched throat, the steps grew barge and languid. I looked around and observed the lack of enthusiasm; however, I was not the only one who observed this. The teacher looked at us briefly with a dissatisfied look and concluded that that was enough practice. Soon after, evening followed, and the time for us to present our play had arrived. The desolate ground had been replaced by a myriad of parents who remained seated silently and had their eyes in perfect sync towards us. We stood on the ornate stage, with an array of colorful poster patterns which resonated with our cosplays. The gentle cold wind brushed against my cheeks with calm serenity, surrounded by the cheers of the audience. Unmoved – I averted my eyes towards my classmates, focusing on the interval of time between each presentation, and the echoing of their footsteps as they left the stage – seconds felt like infinity. A shroud of uncertainty had enveloped my mind – blank. Inadvertently, my teeth began clenching, and the coldness crept inside my skin; I began shaking. I couldn’t focus; my eyes began trailing everything around me aimlessly until they met my teacher’s glare, her lips tightened toward one side: a stern expression. The look of general injunction on her face suggested to me to be dismissed. Shamefully, I exited the stage – disappointed in myself. Everything had been for naught.
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Enigma
Languidly, I walked home, with raspy breathing as if my heart would burst right through my chest at any moment. Fatigue had enveloped my body; each step that I took towards my destination brought rustling jolts of pain throughout my body. Despite all this a shroud of calm serenity had overtaken my mind and with decent resignation I gave in to the whistling of the gentle cool breeze of the morning, the sun that feigned asleep despite illuminating scattered light of rays. This idyllic feeling had controverted the pain that I felt. Voices of laughter and joy resonated around as if blending in with the atmosphere around. Everyone seemed to be in jovial spirits which contradicted the evocative memories of yesterday in my mind; The lie that I had conjured. At this point I feared that it was becoming more of a habit to the point that I would invariably lie about my personal life and everything that made me unique to deceive everyone, including myself. Connecting my fantasy to the person I wish I was rather than the person I am. Invoked on just to avoid being judged by society and to not incur its wrath, except for pertinent prerogative individuals, who would be considered as role models for all the others and those that failed to do so would as a result be shunned by society.
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