They Say, these are strange times

I must warn you before you proceed, that I do not believe in feel-good factors. I can’t write in feel-goodness state-of-mind. This is not about hope, love and happy-endings. This isn’t about the how the world is so beautiful. You have fairytale books for that. Read on…

These are strange times. These are the days of full hands and empty hearts. We’ve succeeded in changing dimensions and definitions of life. With success defined my money and failure by emotions. These are the days of overworked worried heads, and nights of drunken fights. Yes, we live in strange times.
As we hope for hope in others, ironically, we still thrive in the hopelessness within. Existing is as easy as breathing gets difficult. Smoke and dust, treachery and lust fill our lungs like once fresh air did.
We, slaves of the very machines we made, have success spoon-fed to us. And we feel we’ve earned that so-called success.
The concept of wanting more from life, always translates into money. The hunger of success and ambition for that one-buck-more feeds on our lives like termites. Eating away life day-by-day, leaving our souls hollow and weak. We crack so easily nowadays, don’t we?
We’ve long existence now, but shortened life. Like moments have been taken away by the very nature giving us birth. One day going different is an event. Life’s squeezed out of our days. And we exist, and exist some more. But we don’t live anymore.
The rustle of notes replaced the rustle of leaves so damn easily. The pitter-patter of rains, drowned out by the bling of the clinking coins.
The essence of our whole lives can be compressed with in a single day. We’ve photocopied our days. No day is different than the other even when we can make every moment more alive the previous. Why don’t we? Coz we live in strange times now.
It is the last age. Before everything falls apart. The words in books have lost in the repentance of the dead and cynicism. We have nothing to give. And seems we feel there is nothing to learn. Why not squeeze more out of life? Why? Well- Coz these are strange times, aren’t they?

Bliss is a lost concept. Completeness and satisfaction are seen as signs of the weak. Contented hearts are shunned and blamed of a lack of purpose.
We see the dark in everything bright and happy. Sadness is beauty. And love is pain. Anything beautiful is equally hurtful.
Well, did someone say ironic? It is a cynical world, and this is an article for these times.