chimerical predicament
masochistic attraction towards the paradoxical behaviour of life
“How has life been treating you, son?”
Thank you, good sir, for asking. But to really answer that question, I must take you back to the place where it started.
Though reminiscing doesn’t give me any pleasure, I feel too obliged not to. My mind has been worrying itself on that very question you asked, my good sir, but there seems to be a black hole in my memory, which my mind has created subconsciously to save me from pain. You must understand, the answer is fragile, extreme, and almost disgraceful. And I must warn you, everything I say or do, is an exaggeration; I hope you won’t be confused between what is right and what seems to be right.
Ah, so, the answer. It is fairly simple: life has been a paradox. Now, good sir, don’t be fooled, this is merely an oversimplification. You must remember that I told you that I must take you back to where it started to actually make you understand, and I will. But again, I said that reminiscing doesn’t give me pleasure. So I will not. Not just yet.
Well, I apologise for annoying you, but you must engage with this “emotional foreplay” that I have arranged for you. It seems as though you have no choice. You have embarked on this journey, for truth, to get inside someone’s head; surely you’re bound to face obstacles. Now, my good sir, you shouldn’t have thought it was easy in the first place!
A particular disinterest might cross your mind now, but it is of no use. You may not want to keep reading but I dare you to.
Fine. Coming back to the due course, a fine contemporary of mine once said, “Welcome to suffering. It has only began.” And you might ask, why is it relevant? It is, my good sir, it is. The longer you place yourself in my shoes, you will realise its purity and wholeness. It might lead you to become nihilistic, or adhere to a philosophy with an undertone of sadness.
You see, sir, life, in general, is not merely defined by an ideology or a mathematical equation (but we may never know). It is ebb and flow, an oxymoron. And I am attracted to it, sir. I can’t comprehend, nor describe this masochistic attraction towards this paradoxical behaviour of life.
“What a Chimera is man! What a novelty, a monster, a chaos, a contradiction, a prodigy! Judge of all things, an imbecile worm; depository of truth, and sewer of error and doubt; the glory and refuse of the universe.”
- Blaise Pascal, Pensées
Is this who I am? A Chimera? A contradiction? You, my good sir, will be the judge of that, provided you yourself aren’t one. Now, I fear I must indulge in taking leave of your company. But I leave you in my predicament, of not remembering or wanting to remember.
Such predicaments might return.
In case you missed it…
