Source: Marco ten Hoff on Unsplash

Growth is funny. The amount of toxicity I was and still am surrounded by triggers a certain sixth sense. A sense that allows me to shut off when a pattern I’ve suffered from before repeats itself in a different yet similar situation. A song lyric, 극적인 상황들의 반복은 삶을 지치게도 해 (The repetition of dramatic situations sometimes makes life tiring) and the entire idea of the song make one question their own life. A cycle where the same situation tirelessly repeats itself with different people and equips you with mechanisms to cope with it. A cycle you can never be free of. Deja vu becomes a constant part of our lives and peace becomes an enemy till the day we die and believe redemption is near.

The belief that childhood was better becomes stronger now. The more you delve into life, the false sense of protection and the misdirected picture of what the world is, not just me but most of us grow up with, disintegrates. A world that is happy, a world that is colourful, a world that is peaceful, and a world that does not discriminate; it does not exist now in the realist nature of things. Some would argue that realism can destroy us but so can romanticism. Romanticism alone induces a sense of morals that will eventually detach you from the real world and its practicality while realism alone will deprive you of joy completely. A puzzling conclusion. But does life have any more meaning to it than it being a tiring marathon that seems short yet never-ending? We spend our lives working towards happiness and sustenance while at the same time pushing away happiness and making it a thing of the future. A future that, for most, never becomes a reality.

To this day, I don’t know if I am slowly learning how the world is or the one that I have come to know is a figment of my imagination made to suit my set of ideals rather than what it truly is. But then again, I could be spot on with my analysis. Maybe it really would’ve been better to not know what I am a part of. Because what is the reality for me? A world with parallels. One side is a world struck by inhumanity inflicted by humans and the other side is inflicting inhumanity; there is no escape from the hell we have made. The pink bubble with a stream of yellow making its way in somehow to brighten and diminish the strokes of grey that grace the world; a romantic image of the apologetic state of our being. The image that gets torn away slowly yet swiftly as the shooting stars of reality make their way in the pink bubble rather than the yellow stream of light. 

A new world, one we make suit our cognitive process. A world everyone confronts at their own pace. It’s a world that seems unfamiliar. A world I no longer recognise, full of people I don’t recognise; a greyness that seems to suck the pink of hope and yellow of happiness out of me. The innocently foolish child in me hopes the pink will return one day and the happiness I expect to lie in the future for me will be there when I reach there but how long will this innocence prevail? How long before I submit to my environment and walk this marathon? Innocence is a sign of weakness while being a sign of strength. A contrasting statement yet it works perfectly with the environment that nurtures us. While our innocence allows us to manifest and hope for sunlight with a mixture of ever-calming thunder and rain, it can also be the first one to pull us down when realism surrounds us. 

The world is a confusing place even after being fully in touch with the greyness or even having a perfect balance between the grey and the pink. Why? Because we made it this way. A puzzle that tests and a maze that seems small yet endless. Years pass and yet the confusion persists. Maturity? Does it really exist? Or maybe some just figured out answers to questions others still find confusing. But these people with their answers still have confusions and questions they can not solve and answer. It is quintessentially abhorrent that while having the freedom to choose in this maze we do not have the freedom to choose. Freedom of self exists till it doesn’t. I’m aware both the statements seem meaningless but when you think about it, they stand to make a point crucial to our existence in multiple societal structures around the world.

Confusing, isn’t it?

Can I say I know the world? Presently no, and maybe I never will but whether I will choose to run, walk or quit this marathon when the question arises again is still a thing of the future. For now, I walk the life that has stopped for me.

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  • Mentioned song - "People" by Agust D