The World As I See It – An Essay by Albert Einstein
“How strange is the lot of us mortals! Each of us is here for a brief sojourn; for what purpose he knows not, though he sometimes thinks he senses it. But without deeper reflection one knows from daily life that one exists for other people — first of all for those upon whose smiles and well-being our own happiness is wholly dependent, and then for the many, unknown to us, to whose destinies we are bound by the ties of sympathy. A hundred times every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life are based on the labors of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received and am still receiving…
“I have never looked upon ease and happiness as ends in themselves — this critical basis I call the ideal of a pigsty. The ideals that have lighted my way, and time after time have given me new courage to face life cheerfully, have been Kindness, Beauty, and Truth. Without the sense of kinship with men of like mind, without the occupation with the objective world, the eternally unattainable in the field of art and scientific endeavors, life would have seemed empty to me. The trite objects of human efforts — possessions, outward success, luxury — have always seemed to me contemptible. (more…)
snowball
pensive now. to be honest, have been pensive for ages. never being capable of freeing this mind, taking away needless stuff being kept there, throwing away the trash i’ve collected from there, there, there, and there for years. always inhaling, never exhaling.
as this life heads to the end, the chaos in this grey matter gets bigger, heavier, unbearable…like a snowball rolling down from an acclivity, carrying away whatever stands on its way. one day the snowball will meet an immovable object. no matter how unstoppable and powerful the snowball is, that “unknown” immovable object will disrupt this random movement. seemingly, the snowball has only one purpose, that is to grow, become gigantic, be superior and greater than whatever one can imagine, and finally to reach the end. it’s like gravity! what the snowball needed was just a little push. there is every appearance that once upon a time i did give that push with these hands, now typing this (a sort of confession).
still thinking, repeatedly asking questions to myself, beating my brain… to figure out why i gave birth to the catastrophe, and why i don’t act to stop it, or at least lessen the pain it has caused. it’s really puzzling that i’m standing still, witnessing, and suffering from it, despite the fact that i’m kinda aware of what’s going on. so far, there is no answer I’ve got. watching forest through the window, listening to singing birds at dawn, walking around the lake, struggling to discover my limits in every area, etc. it’s really unfortunate. because no matter what i do, i cannot find an answer, not even a clue.
losing hope. spinning down to the ground. i’ve a sense of dread that i’ll soon hit the ground. scared but also eager to know how gazing at the ground from above through these jelly cow eyes would feel like while air will be kindly touching my skin.
still pensive but never stopping to collect trash from everywhere, and to help the snowball to get bigger and to roll down. why? as i said don’t know, haven’t found it yet. maybe there is no answer, nor question. maybe all is an illusion i’ve made up. well, i hope it’s not . because if there is neither question nor answer, what would i do then? unplug myself, probably!
anyways, i do believe (wanna believe) that there exist some certain questions and answers to these questions. speaking of q&a evermore, there is another possibility, which is kinda invisible, hidden, lost in the shallow waters, not seen by these jelly cow eyes, that i’ve already asked proper questions and got satisfactory answers to them, and but cannot see that they lie in front of me waiting to be comprehended, seen, felt, heard… hope this is not the fact! otherwise, it’d be a complete psychologic breakdown for me.
began to talk about the snowball and ended up somewhere else. this is what i always do when i write. not surprising, is it? maybe i’m trapped in a cycle, and arriving where i start all the time. however, every new line i write here opens up a new dimension through which i can view the cycle from a different angle. every new viewpoint takes away something from and of course adds something to me.
then, let me stop here and enjoy this new dimension!
the darkness
little by little the darkness covering what stands out there in front of me. watching it carelessly. leaves are falling from the trees. as soon as they hit the ground the darkness is covering them. vision is blurry. not possible to distinguish leaves and ground. sound is muted. the darkness not only brings invisibility with itself, it sucks up all the sounds, even the sound that is heard when the leaves hit the ground.
mountains watching each other. doing nothing to prevent the darkness. the inevitable end gradually approaches. the darkness seems to be unbreakable, unstoppable, inevitable, etc. probably, this is not what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. unstoppable force meets movable objects including this being viewing the world through jelly cow eyes. witnessing what’s happening is as painful as what one can imagine. things stand still. leaves keep falling. mountains are as always. all is waiting for the darkness to cover them, paint them to black, and mute them, recklessly.
what’s happening is as rave as watching it. could it because of it feels like when one doesn’t want to get out of the bed in the morning? the bed is warm and comfortable. who wants to leave the bed and face the reality out there? no one!
the darkness injects something to the veins of what encounters what the darkness does. though what’s has been done by the darkness makes all feel good, all knows there’s no turning back. no coming back. even the leaves know that. all is dead when the darkness accomplishes what it’s doing.
keep doing what you’re supposed to do, the darkness. it feels good, at least for now.
mesmerised
slicing memories into small pieces with a not sharp knife in my dream last night. it’s the same dream i’ve had dozens of times. it’s not day or night in these dreams. it’s kinda half-night. the atmosphere is gloomy. i’m scared like i can’t tell. i get even more frightened when i see how i slaughter memories of mine with people in my dream without any slightest sense of compassion. couldn’t stop myself though. keep doing it. but it never ends. there is always something left behing, something not being ruined by my hands. at some point, a sense of enjoyment shakes me. then i see there’s nothing left, nothing is standing in front of me. all is dead. the lives are taken. everything is over. a song is echoing, whose melody and lyrics are forgotten. still, i remember it. i loved it once upon a time. listening to it. making small manoeuveres with my head to see my success/failure. music is echoing still. nothing is moving around me. looking at my hand for a while. a sticky-stinky black liquid covering my hands. shape of my hands are not even recognizable. yet i know they are still there and belong to me. black liquid is not standing still. it’s like vibrating. how comes? i’m not hallucinating. i’m still where i have been always. nothing has changed. me and others/memories are remaining the same. the light is the same. however, i don’t see any reason for strange movements of liquid on my hands. it looks like alive. i’m mesmerised. my eyes are getting bigger and bigger. gazing at it. it’s vibrating, moving, growing… don’t feel my hands even arms anymore. liquid is moving upwards. i don’t see it but i know it’s now covering my shoulders and moving onto my chest. all is happening under my shirt…and the picture is frozen. nothing is moving anymore. don’t sense anything at all. knowing that i’m still in a dream though…
