Duality Within Us

It is a widely accepted phenomenon that being oneself, someone who we truly are is one of the most difficult things to do in this world. Many of us loose connection with ourselves early in our lives and then find ourselves at the mercy of elements around us when it comes to being maneuvered. How is this progression made? No obvious answers will ever surface, maybe its just man’s quest to adorn a certain manifestation in the eyes of his mind.
For years I have believed deep within us all of us are basically two people. One of them is what the people are largely known off because that’s the one, which is projected and shown to the world on the projector of life. Then there is this other guy in people who is the real guy of the two. This guy has no friends or even acquaintances because nobody knows him except him knowing himself. He is the ‘introvert’ in every one of us. Man is not oblivious to his existence but he is usually shunned for the fear of his gaining exemplary powers of surfacing onto this make believe world and shattering forever the notions people have become use to believing; the image conjured up by the projected guy in us. The silent guy in most, is confined to a cold cell in the personality grid and remains scared throughout his existence.
At times this projected guy wears the garb of counterfeit so much that he starts believing this is what suits him best. He lies so much he starts believing himself and if taken to extreme there is always a risk of individuality of these two people dissolving into each other and emerging only as the projected guy.
Thus I largely believe that the human body with its various physical attributes that differentiate the two sexes are just an attire adorned by these two people inside the person. In short these beings do not have a sex at all. There like these two twins that are born ten to thirteen years apart. The silent guy comes as the baby when he descends the earth. At that moment in time he’s clean, maybe because babies are the purest of god’s creations. As the baby grows with every revolution of the clock dial, he begins to realize that since reality was only simplistic electric pulses perceived by the brain he did not need to work too hard at being himself. What he does do then, is to carve a statue of a self he is supposed to be and sets it forthright to the world. This is the projected guy who emerges ten to thirteen years after birth and is as old as the silent guy at birth.
For years our respective souls have not made any eye contact with each other. This is because our perceptions about our friends, people we love are largely dependant on how they meet our eye; spending time with them and knowing them to the extent to what and how they wanted us to know of them. Not many can claim to able to see through people, thus for most its an every day quest to hunt for the truth behind the façade. The ‘projected guy’ clouds us ordinary mortals and issues like people being unduly judgmental or opinioned surface, because there is distrust and not many are willing to extend the benefit of doubt to the other person.

Infinite Oblivion

Someday I’ll soar like an eagle totally oblivious to my surroundings and for once time, as a fourth dimension would cease to exist. As if eternity would sit next to me unassumingly and time would virtually stop by moving with bolted feet in sand. The mere thought of achieving this state of mind makes me enthralled to the fullest. There are flashes of brilliance that take me near to my nirvana, as I imagine it, but a rude awakening always ends my flight and I hit the earth with a thud. And every fall makes me more adamant in achieving my dream of making for the sky, reach out for the heavens and experience what its like to defy gravity. It seems almost divine an experience of being able to float in absolutely nothing, devoid of any emotions which peg me back to my surrounding. I would realize why space is Gods stature and how strong an element air can be. Floating aimlessly, defeating the burly winds on the highest grounds and the best part would be to have absolutely no abstract feelings of anguish, deceit, disappointments to take me back to the familiar surroundings I came from. The panorama stretched in front in my flight would almost seem to go on for ever and I’ll be on the move but would have no definite place to go. In my days of fatigue I’d stay perched at the top of the highest cliffs and stand in the shadows waiting for night to fall and then make eye contact with god thru the millions of stars that would that would have risen from there slumber only to marvel at what I had attained .My trance would only be further enhanced by a swan I would pluck from her embellished flight. She would go places with me where words of mine could not take us, listen to much more than I can say and herself would be a proficient flyer. I would be enchanted by the poetic movements of her wings and follow the trail of her flight as she took me to unexplored territories which were just meant for us to uncover together. Her beauty would want me to stretch out to her for the whole of time till I finally fade away into awaiting arms of the mother earth (die) and thus end my flight.