Doesn't a life threatening pandemic bring upon anxiety and panic in the common man?
Life has gone back to normal, whilst the danger is still even out there.
Aren't people afraid?
Has time born a fatigue that outcasts fear?
This man seems to become numb to circumstances. Has he been so always?
Man fears death, but does he fear boredom or loneliness more? So much more so as to drought upon the fertile dark and clammy lands of fear and death.
What does loneliness or boredom do to him?
Does it force him to look at himself?
Does it shove circumstances unto his face, so hard, that he struggles for breath?
Does it unveil the thing that he has tried to forget all along; his pain, his suffering?
Suffering weighs far too much to be strong and confident and casually carry it around.
It seems, man has learnt to live with the helplessness. He has always adapted by numbing down the fear, blindly, with whatever anesthetic he can grab.
Why doesn't he then challenge the circumstance and bend it to his will?
Does he figure that it is too much of a struggle?
Does he realize that his will is powerless, and has no place in the greater game at play?
Does he understand that there will not be an end; all life is but suffering?
So many questions, not one answer that waters his thirsty soul.
Not one soul that truly feels his thirst.
Desperately, he seems to choose to get back to whatever slice of life he can get back to; numb himself down, and enslave himself to the master of suffering.
The blood and tears of the body seem to be far easier to handle than those of the mind.
To challenge the circumstances head to head is as tough as it gets.
While the event of someone challenging and emerging victorious stands occasional, coming out beyond to the 'right place' is debatable. Where do you come out to call yourself truly successful? What is the place that houses truth in its unpolluted and pristine glory? The truth, that is the only real place that exists, and actually matters for the deepest parts of your existence; that resonates so powerfully in the remotest spaces of your spirit.
Is that place scary? Does it arise fear? Why is man scared of it?
If he is happy and satisfied wherever he is; why is then there a longing that isn't pacified by anything whatsoever?
No amount of drugs or sex has cured man of this nostalgia. Dwelling in untruth brings upon loneliness,fear and helpless, brings upon fatigue and numbness. If all dwelling in this place is such struggle, then why stay at all? Isn't it worth looking for a place that satisfies all of your longings; isn't it worth to find the 'truth'?
The place that brings fatigue and decays your roots, must be far from the truth. Wherefore then is the pursuit of happiness?