Cynical is a state of mind

As we rise from our beds each day and wonder about our social life, on the internet, we don’t realize that we’ve been living (for so long now) in one big plastic wrap of irony.

We used to be a living, breathing, independent-thinking community. A society of self-righteous, sarcastic bastards thrown in with sepia-shade photographs and six bottles of whiskey & gin in the office.  Look at what we’ve become. No smoking in the office, mind you. Passive smoking is inconsiderate.

You can’t drink at work, it affects your performance, John.

Perhaps, I should have been born in the 40s – 60s. Then again, if that were the case, I might not share the same sentiments that I do today. There’s no point in my words, not today. Today, I release a breath of sentimental desire that I haven’t indulged in for quite a while. I revisit a fantasy that I’ve been saving in this dusty box of neglected dreams.

I suppose I’d face the problems of way back when, but – okay, no ‘buts’, I admit, I’m in denial. As much as I’m positively getting scarred on a daily basis by the repugnant nonsense that swims around in what we know today as ‘the internet’, I’m quite sure the problems of the 40s – 60s do match up evenly. Who’s to say whether it was better than it is now.

Forget about making it big. The world has no patience whatsoever for development or progression. Everything has to be spontaneous, a big bang here and a bigger bang there. Boom, boom, pow – wonder child wows the world and cuts a new deal (along with it, a new mansion and a car that if sold, could feed a large percentile of the starving little ones). I used to wonder if it was because the world wasn’t ready for what I had to offer, if I should go along with everyone else’s ideas and philosophy and align my own to theirs.

I understand today what I did not back then. It isn’t that the world isn’t ready. The world was ready, but the window is now closed. The world has grown old and weary, cynical & skeptical. Oh nothing good will ever come out of it, you hear the cries when you think you’re faced with silence. You hear the sounds of the urban jungle, in the day and late into the night. Screaming and wailing that never stops, not for one second do you hear the voice of opportunity. Not anymore.

Today, the world is a battlefield. Ironic, I know.

The world is tired, and so am I. What about the children, you ask? What about the little ones, whose minds are not yet corrupt, who hold in their little hands the faith & joy that overflows with purity and innocence? What about them? It’s not just me. You too are in denial, friend.

Watch as they embrace the iconic ruins of the future wasteland. The glossy new smartphone, the redundant 80 dollar hairdo and the sleek lambskin leather purses that hold nothing but expensive lint.

Call me cynical, but cynicism, I tell you, is a state.

It’s hungry and it’s been on a feast. We are what make the buffet spread, and we’re too obscenely spoiled to admit it. I too have fallen victim to these things, although somehow I’ve managed to preserve a part of my neglected dream. While the world runs wild for the latest and the new, I always find myself distanced from the race;

just a few steps behind.


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