We live inside perfect glass bubbles. Each acting like a crystal clear ball that only shows us the reality. Seldom are the voilent winds outside our protected atmosphere lured in, disrupting the flow for a while. But once in a while those very winds whip at our perfect bubbles madly, ringing the bells of change. They cause our bubbles to spin hysterically in a perfect havoc, the bubbles clashing against one another until they crack and crash; then, the very shards of our indifference hit us along with the actual reality, piercing our skins and the white noise scraping against our eardrums like nails dragging along chalkboard.
What we had been ignoring for so long, now knocks us out. Our worst fears materalize before us. We rise and fall, ceased by the truth of it all. No one is safe. Epiphanies strike; we live within illusions, infinite illusions that merely hide the reality for us, but it's bound to strike. Truth eventually takes off that sheer blindfold. It holds you in its storm until you can no longer evade this fact. Until your facade in no longer an option.
-Momina.
I for one both look forward to, and fear, the day that all facades fall and people begin to see the world for how it really is. While I will be glad that the world is opening it's eyes, I am not looking forward to seeing some truths for myself. I'm already aware of how grey the world is. What I don't know is probably better off being unknown.
ReplyDeleteYour writing has a life of it's own and that's what I love about this post. The imagery is daunting.
ReplyDeletehi momina i have been reading u for quiet sometime now.featuring u as my favorite in a post on my blog. http://pastiche.webnode.com/news/blog-love/
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