Do Something, Please?

A strange feeling kept clawing at him after every few seconds.

It was an unsteady, insecure feeling, and coupled with an urge to always be on the hurry, on a lookout for the next big piece of information, the big idea to do something for real rather than hold it inside and nod one’s head thoughtfully. He had been itching to do something for a while, and for so long had settled on watching its and bits of videos, audios and texts on the internet bordering from gory massacres to naked women, that he felt it wasn’t funny anymore.

Rather, it was a crime against himself, having forsaken time and energy, not to mention the energy being produced by the world’s thermal power plants, a product of fossil fuels and for what? Raunchy videos? He felt that if power usage could be monitored as to track them for what exactly they were being used for, people using electricity for non-valuable content, for more than a stipulated period, should be banned from the internet. Save the person for his own sake, and save electricity to go along with it.

Besides, material excesses didn’t matter to him. The novelty wore off after a few days. It happened with clothes, gadgets and chocolates. Just the duration of novelty differed, but more or less, he was sure, a month was all it took for the person to start craving a newer, better high, a better kind of novelty, a new fix for the coming days, not knowing that he or she wasn’t aware of oneself and how his or her mind worked, its capacities to self-sabotage and think from a collectivist’ s perspective rather than an individualist’s.

He didn’t believe in populist notions anymore. They were a product of emotional manipulation rather than independent, original thinking, a resource, to be valued in these times of opinions masquerading as facts, coupled with the irony that for every bluff thrown out, it took much longer than the time it took to bluff to prove the bluff’s invalidity. He wasn’t worried about this. He was just bemused. Of what was one exactly keen to prove his or her mettle? Intellect? Physique? Say, even if it was proven so, so what? It wouldn’t last forever, unless one maintained it, consistently, diligently, every day.

There were no rules or regulations. They were called rules and regulations, they could well have been called something else, a product belonging to another time, another age, for it didn’t matter what you thought, what you ate or what you drank, all that mattered was what you did after meeting the right people.

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