VANITY

The vanity of human wishes, and the vanity of their fulfillments, results only in a leaden confluence, silty and shallow. The ever convalescent sense and the ever recuperating mirth are both, senile enough to choose the same eternal cemetery for their haven, all the while trying to distance themselves from their brooding whereabouts. Revolt only leads to a promenade, the cobbles of which are murdered aspirations and the promenade on which ends up in trampling the dying ones. But stoicism does not guarantee anything, while mutiny ends up in anomie.

If all are thinking, then all are thinking. But their camouflage of thoughts is accurate enough to an extent where surroundings take over the demesne of identity. The individual identity always has to accede to the notions of the larger framework. Everyone thinks, but at the same time no one ponders. Everyone think, but he thought is always conditioned. This choked individualism is the silt and the banality of the same is the shoal. If all are wishing, then all are. But the prodigality and rationality of the wishes need to be based upon the individualistic thoughts, and there comes the need to shun this camouflage. Hibernation is always over an extended period of time and arises out of the need to survive. But camouflaging is different from hibernation, and the surroundings are not the pole star. Change seasons, and your masquerade becomes your nemesis. The milieu changes, but perfection requires precision. Water needs all hundred degrees to turn to steam. And its often the hundredth degree which is latent and the requires the longest wait.