"Oh! You can't help that", said the cat:" we are all mad here, you are mad, I am mad".
Over one of the most intriguing conversations that I have had in recent times, I started to wonder if my perception is really the reality. The fact that this conversation was held in the realm of intoxicity and a bizzare incident that I witnessed, during the revelry that engulfs the festival of colors, makes it even more peculiar. Witnessing someone's hallucinogenic perspective can be hilarious and at the same time causes you to stop and decipher the difference between what you percieve to be happening and what is really happening around you in the world, in simpler words the reality. "Reality" is an eccentric term, to each its their own collection of truths and perception. But, is reality my own idea and my own perception, or is there a world that exists beyond it. Why was it that what I saw as floor, was water to someone else? And how can I be sure in thinking that my knowledge is reality.
There have to be things that exist beyond our reality, only then we can justify the existence of mythological characters, unheard beasts, and other "weird things" that we all heard of in fairytales. How did the mind generate the idea to begin with?
Do we indulge in such fantasies to escape the reality, or do we chance upon some greater understanding while dreaming. Many a times I wake up, not knowing when the lines of reality and my dreams got blurred.
As Nietzsche says , our "will to truth" is concealed in "our will to ignorance" . We need to create meaning of life on our own, to survive the chaos and the madness that surrounds us.
But the meaning of life does not remain constant, as you descend futher in the abyss of life, the very foundations of life change, meeting new people, witnessing new incidents, all adds to the layers of our vivid personality.
I, like many others, do not like change, but I realise the oddity of this statement, as I find myself evolving and changing as a person, driven by my own passions, reflective of my own actions.
So my perception may not be the reality , but it is real for me, and its transitory in nature, changing with time, with me, making sense out of nonsense.
Over one of the most intriguing conversations that I have had in recent times, I started to wonder if my perception is really the reality. The fact that this conversation was held in the realm of intoxicity and a bizzare incident that I witnessed, during the revelry that engulfs the festival of colors, makes it even more peculiar. Witnessing someone's hallucinogenic perspective can be hilarious and at the same time causes you to stop and decipher the difference between what you percieve to be happening and what is really happening around you in the world, in simpler words the reality. "Reality" is an eccentric term, to each its their own collection of truths and perception. But, is reality my own idea and my own perception, or is there a world that exists beyond it. Why was it that what I saw as floor, was water to someone else? And how can I be sure in thinking that my knowledge is reality.
There have to be things that exist beyond our reality, only then we can justify the existence of mythological characters, unheard beasts, and other "weird things" that we all heard of in fairytales. How did the mind generate the idea to begin with?
Do we indulge in such fantasies to escape the reality, or do we chance upon some greater understanding while dreaming. Many a times I wake up, not knowing when the lines of reality and my dreams got blurred.
As Nietzsche says , our "will to truth" is concealed in "our will to ignorance" . We need to create meaning of life on our own, to survive the chaos and the madness that surrounds us.
But the meaning of life does not remain constant, as you descend futher in the abyss of life, the very foundations of life change, meeting new people, witnessing new incidents, all adds to the layers of our vivid personality.
I, like many others, do not like change, but I realise the oddity of this statement, as I find myself evolving and changing as a person, driven by my own passions, reflective of my own actions.
So my perception may not be the reality , but it is real for me, and its transitory in nature, changing with time, with me, making sense out of nonsense.
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