Tag: reality

Dilemma

Kevin and Carla wouldn’t even dream of hurting Dorothy. They knew, only too well, that the truth would hurt her beyond consolation—and they couldn’t do that to her. Besides, still young and learning to navigate society as a married couple, they didn’t want to become the inhospitable hosts.

Art didn’t pay as Kevin had hoped and everyone assumed Carla’s poetry was a hobby. Regardless of the meagre potions for themselves, they did their best to cope with Dorothy. After all, she’d raised them when they were orphaned. How would they tell her she was a wrinkle in their lives?

Intent: Creepiness

I think computer viruses should count as life. I think it says something about human nature that the only form of life we have created so far is purely destructive. We’ve created life in our own image.

— Stephen Hawking

One of my blogger friends shared this as a tribute to the now-late Steven Hawking. And it got me thinking. The truth of those words clenched deep, and I cringed to call myself a part of a community ingrained with such destructive mentalities that it prides itself in creating something as creepy as a computer virus.

Not only are viruses vile creatures that creep through our systems and violate everything we cherish and hold dear, but they exist because of us. I did a little digging about the most evil of viruses and came upon a few chilling names. What’s more startling is their uses.

We’ve created viruses to attack and disable other nations’ systems. (Sure, they were nuclear systems—but still, is a virus the right way to go?) Some of them sneak up on our children while they play innocent games, gaining unauthorised access and control over their lives and computers. They can corrupt unwitting minds and souls, and turn them into abusive, power-hungry youngsters. Pity. We could’ve used the same technology to offer remote customer support, instead.

As for the adults, we’ve tempted them with the promise of beautiful women and sometimes porn only to attempt a convoluted goal. We’ve created worms that go knocking on computers during holidays paralysing our contacts and spirits in the guise of wishing a Merry Christmas.

Some of our programmes have crippled governments and defaced other unassuming nations.

Oh, and just the hell of it, we’ve even created viruses that run through emails, sending itself to our contacts over and over again until the internet once broke with the load. All for no reason.

As if all that isn’t enough, we’ve also peeked into our fellow humans’ deepest desire for love, planting viruses as admiration letters only to break down millions of worth of assets.

The specialty knowledge that it takes to build such malware is so vast that it’s a testament to humanity’s skills. If only we use that for good things, instead.

The hacking culture and the cinema-influenced stereotypepes associated with computer geeks—the nerdy glasses, the shady hoody, the dark corner, the millions of lines of undecodeable scripts—has opened up our brains to wrong ideas and ideals.

We’ve created a culture of sad, pathetic humans driven by malicious desires. For a prideful, educated community such as ourselves, it’s shameful.

Shame that we don’t even realise it.

Muting noise

Silence is a golden trait.

Noise and clutter are inevitable at work or in a social gathering. And that’s why it’s important to take time off, to let go of loudness and find a quiet spot to heal and reconvene our thoughts. For when we let our minds to be silent, to pursue the calm energy that silence brings forth, we let our minds to be at peace. We allow ourselves time and energy to reflect on our lives, to seek the truth within.

Most people who are silent, and sometimes introverted, keep to themselves and away from the chaos of the rest of the world. It’s not because we’re unsocial, but because we need time away to process what we take in.

I, for one, find it uncomfortable when I thrust myself in the company of many. I feel fine and accommodating at first, but after a while, I want silence wishing I weren’t there.

Most people assume that craving silence equals shyness. It’s not. Silence isn’t the absence of a voice. Silence isn’t a sign of weakness or meekness.

Silence is a sign of reflection. When I’m silent, I’m thinking, observing, listening to my inner self and trying to heed my soul. When the outside world shuts down, I hear myself better. When I’m not distracted by what’s happening around me, I focus on what’s happening inside of me.

And inside of me is chaos.

Every day I take in so much information—the good, the bad, and the ugly—that it becomes overwhelming to process at the time. When I’m alone at home, therefore, all the subdued information from before begins to sink in one at a time. When my body is away from physical noise, the inner monologue begins, trying to make sense of all that it heard throughout the day.

That’s when my self clarity peeks in, picking out the necessary and clipping out the unnecessary. As my mind empties itself of all things I brought back from work, my soul nourishes itself with the lessons I learnt while my consciousness relieves itself of the burdens.

Peace is a process. And it stems from practicing silence——silencing the external first the internal next. As the day winds and my mind finishes its process, I start to hear my own breathing, calm, and resting—ready to take on yet another day.