There are those, here, there...everywhere, who think. think!! they engage in existential thought, they question the world they live in. they question society, even their own very thoughts, as being a product of said society.
They understand that everything exists in dimensions...there is no such thing as a line of thought. It is a plane, gently undulating, with infinite shapes depending on each way you look at it. Absolute truth does not exist, only absolute thoughts.
What does it mean to say 'absolute thoughts'? It seems easy enough to put it down...it looks all nice and shiny in contrast to absolute truth, but what does it mean? This is the trap of the so-called intelligentsia: re-defining things into new terms so that only people who think the way that you do can understand them. And consequently, to the 'ordinary' mind, you seem superior. you know something they do not. apparently.

Absolute Thought: The existence of thought such that you find yourself in a position where you can see every shape that thought can hold.

It is, therefore, near impossible. yet we strive. Or i strive, at the least. I am not of the intelligentsia. I am not of anything at all.

Yet I am a product of society.

We are all explained, even in our rebellion. It is a belief that we hold that something is wrong. We cannot pin point it sometimes, and sometimes we can. I have my own idea regarding this, which i shall not belabour you with here. We all share this...not just the intelligentsia, or any other class of society, but everyone. Ask anyone, and if they look deep enough inside they will find that the thought that something is wrong resonates within...somewhere. It is true...and if you think for long enough you find that you cannot deny its truth. And when i say ask anyone...i do mean anyone. Even the man with the big house, three cars, loving family. drive him out to an open field..and ask him. and then leave him there.
there is only one answer.
there is something wrong.

And we, the so-called rebels of society, are the only ones who act on our 'gut-feeling'. Or at the very least we strive to articulate it, to bring it to conscious thought in everything we do.

Yet We are products of this society we strive to understand in terms of absolute thought...to understand from every angle, even those which have not been driven into our heads since the day we were born. We are the allowable error. We are the negligible imperfect products of the Culture machine. Every generation must have them. Millions of them, even....and yet negligible.

"There is no proper place: this includes ghettoes and kitchens, and all corresponding systems of the proper place. The politics of a rooms of one's own has to be rethought today, however enlightened it was yesterday. The question is a hard one, surpassing as it does the video game logic of good versus evil, winner and loser, presence and absence: can there be an atopicality of the community that nonetheless gathers, a community going nowhere, but ecstatic, a community of shattered egos, where the control towers come tumbling down, and where the other is genuinely anticipated?"

-Avital Ronell, 'A disappearance of community'

i am not you.

i don't want it...any of it: sex, money, power, ambition...the life. to an extent, even love is tainted.

give me my room. give me my space. a nice little comfortable life....is not going to happen. i realize that now. human beings love borders, edges of spaces. mine is on a roof, somewhere in Karachi. the border between up and down. safe and unsafe. life, and death.

over, and over....i play with the things in my mind. thoughts, ideas...rolling them around, looking at them from different angles. trying to find resonance...

....yeh raat irtiqa chahti he.

something is happening. and this is good, because for a long time nothing was happening. This, however, is different. i can feel something...growing...inside me. im changing, or ive changed and im coming to realize in what ways. whatever it is, it casts a new light on everything i see, hear, touch, feel.
its awareness...heightened awareness of everything around me. im not just seeing anymore, im seeing. Not breathing just to breathe...theres something more.
its growing.
and all of this sounds melodramatic as ever, ofcourse. which makes me question it....makes me think im raising everything past its significance....but i can't help but feel i'm not. judge me at your own peril.
everytime i go out there its new. i experiment, feel my way around. everythings new, and different. its like taking your first steps again...but this time you're aware of what you're doing. The baby isn't aware of the significance of his development, only we are.
again that word...awareness. it keeps popping up.

drifting, drifting....floating..flying....in a sea of new things, new ideas, new interpretations, new people. a new life. somethings going to happen soon.

soon....

...awakening. Irtiqa. A new life. Fresh, yet tainted by everything that has led to this point.

i can feel the gears whirring away, slowly...grinding back into life. I've been away too long. Never again...this is my unique freedom that i'll never ignore again. The freedom of the blank page.

Its sitting there...asking me to paint upon it my picture. so what're we going to play today, old friend?

*sigh*

Awareness...of every minute thing. my mind is beginning to notice the smells, the sounds. i can hear you, feel you, almost touch you. Life, I'm back. It's been a while...of introspection, of nostalgia, of fond remembrance, and stagnation. Never again.