The Aboveground man

Part 3- Resurgence

Ha, you all must have thought that I am done for, eh? That whatever splurge of words there was, its over and now you can rest. But no, I take up the pen (the laptop, actually) once again, to continue the forgotten. Why, you may ask? 

Out of spite! Sheer spite! Yes, my dear reader, I couldn't stand your smug face, imagining that I was long over. Am I imagining that? Oh well, you are imaginary too. Yes, you are. I have boxed (or thinked) myself out of my mind, and no one can go through the resulting madness. No matter. There are madmen aplenty, and who knows, maybe it is that I am sane and the world is mad.

You want to know about my spite for the world? No? I'll tell you anyway. Everything about the world and the dominant species on it of homo-sapiens is contemptible. Most of them are the worst hypocrites to ever walk on this planet. They blame their films, their books, their stores to be predictable, when in fact they themselves live a life worse than flat characters. I daresay even my life is more enjoyable than theirs, and trust me, there's nothing much enjoyable about pouring vitriol in words all day and lazing about looking at the blank white ceiling like its some sort of abstract art. But these days of idiosyncrasies, it probably is. 

But in the movies, the books, you can blame the author for a bad story. And who is the author of this dreadful story of boring lives? Its us all along! But then how can this be, that we are creating a life, a story, that we don't like or want? Is it just out of sheer necessity that we become simpletons without a voice of our own in the world? Or are we not capable of being something more than that? Predictable film, they say. If only they knew that if they were a character in any script, they would be deleted instantly. That's how great their contribution is.

But then, who am I to judge anyone's contribution to the world? What have I done, what distinguishing colors have I painted myself with? None, I say. I have merely raised the question. All I have done is poured random words online, and I know I am smaller than a mouse in the scale of things. But at least, I accept that. You should look at those accountants, those government clerks, the pride in their faces. They have achieved barely anything their entire lives  beyond the desk, and yet some of them pride themselves so much, as if the universe can't function without them. 

According to me, pride is a disgusting quality, even if you can justify it. Even the wisest know that they barely know anything, and that whatever they know doesn't matter. It is only the ignorant fool who believes he has substance in the world. Perhaps it helps him survive, single-minded thing. But it is positively insulting to me to see someone proud of themselves, since the proud ones are those who have the least substance. But in today's world, being humble and meek is taken as shyness and under confidence, while being a boastful braggart is being an extrovert and a good communicator. Ha, if they only knew the disdain, the spite, the hatred in the mind of the silent one, they would go red with fury. 

Do I have pride? Yes, I do. I needed it to survive in this world. I couldn't let others trample over my work, my livelihood. If bragging about it would mean my work is given the credit it deserves, then so be it. But damn, all this advertising, this marketing is disgusting. Not just all the media, but people themselves. Just how many people have the guts to open a conversation by talking about their flaws? None, I say. Some wouldn't even admit it to themselves, or talk about it their entire lives. They delude themselves, thinking they are perfect beings, or the best they can be. Perhaps we all do. 

But some people, like me, they are even proud of their own flaws. They make a point to be lazy, or to smoke or drink incessantly, to annoy others or do their own thing. Is it possible to be proud of anything and everything in today's age? People are proud of their gender, of their sexual orientation, of their religion, their country, even of simply existing (I am proud to be myself? Great achievement, now go become someone else, I don't like your face). Pride seems to be something all-pervasive, and no one can deny that right to this species. One shouldn't be ashamed of themselves, anyway. But there comes a point when it transforms from a defense against needless shame or guilt to something that you rub in other people's faces and use to make yourself feel superior and condescend others. And that's when it becomes repulsive.

Perhaps I should study the emotions of this species, about what makes them click. It's true I am no psychologist, nor have I no interest in this species's workings. But psychology can never provide all the answers. A computer has both software and hardware, but science can only study what it sees, which is the hardware. It can at best record the outcomes of the software's execution, but it can't study what the software actually is. And I can? Ha, that would be too prideful. But then I have got nothing to do that I want to do, so this I should do for a start.