Samsara. While some believe it to be the world unto itself, a few others believe the meaning of the word to be the cycle of birth and life that everything in this material and physical world is bound to. We kill ourselves to live on our lands, fear death so very much and eventually death is the only release of each man and woman, from the shackles that bind us to our materialism. We talk about fixing things, creases on our brows, the fault lines along two people, the massive erosion of all the land patted down as simple faith. We talk, that’s all we do and that’s all we shall ever do. A person buys a cell phone, then sits on it and breaks it, and then buys another one. Then, he waits for this new cell phone to stop working or break or basically just conk off, till he can buy the latest cell phone again. That’s a phone’s samsara. It’s not life, but the cycle it is going through is one of life and death. The same way we work about our lives. We get married, live with our partners, then get bored, cheat, leave the said partners and marry a new one. Have kids, have a family, still hate our own existences, fall each day deeper into an existential crisis. All of these situations in the want of release. Release from the everyday drudgery of having to wake up and do things the society expects our humankind to. Every day, to wake up, look at our own faces and bogged down by the fact of claiming false love for people we really don’t care about. We say we care, we say we love; what’re words if not hollow sounds and a little bit of heat energy against our mouth palate? Words are what we randomly throw about, hoping it’ll hit target once in a while, if not, we throw in some more. Stir it around in a cauldron of being a hot mess, neurotic tendencies and there you have it, a human who claims to be one. We girls sit in the bathrooms of a club, drunk out of our very heads, criticizing men who turned us down for a free drink, because they saw a couple of us grinding against others. We complain about the very things we do wrong, with absolutely no sense of accountability. We are humans, the kind who’re not really responsible about actions and consequences. You act, it leads to a consequence; you don’t act, it nonetheless leads to a consequence. We run away from these consequences, we pile up on the acts.
Existential crises’. What may those be? Those are the worms festering inside of our heads. All you need to remove and eradicate those worms is to believe in your own good, your own worth. You may not excel at everything you do, you may not be filthy rich, but you may be aware of your living body, and that’s more than enough. As long as you know of your limited time, your limitless kindness, and your beautiful worth, things will never be as bad as those worms make you believe. Most of the men and women in our present times, have been so harsh to their own selves that every time they think of a joyous memory, a physical touch, a little part of them dies inside. And with it, the want and the need to share love. Love was never a chore, and it shouldn’t be. It is the calm waves of the ocean that keep beating against your feet while you gently sink into the sand where you planted your feet. When you come out of the beach and still keep feeling like you’re in water, that’s the taste your love should leave on your partner. Plant your feet against your partner, the one who makes your intuition dormant, not one who keeps your intuition and gut instincts on overdrive. Make your seas calm, and you’ll be part of calmer waters. Make your time on this planet worthwhile. You’ll never know when you chance upon a reincarnation that you may not like. It’s your choice to make Samsara accept your preferences, not of the cosmic sea to mould you. You are all the universe you ever wanted to explore.