PERSPECTIVE - Abheet Srivastav (@abheet_srivastav
Knowledge is misery. There are things I don’t know. There are things I wish I didn’t. In between, dangles life, hanging by a thread of perspective. Perspective is sanity.
As a child, my father told me a story. Two little brothers, deeply in love, run an errand. Climb to the top of the hill. One of them slips and falls, with nothing to stop him. He breaks his teeth. Being a kid, for who love is foremost, the other brother wants to get hurt too and he pushes himself down. Love is insanity.
My father doesn’t tell me a macabre tale. My little cynical perspective makes Jack and Jill about the insanity of love.
Stories don’t hold reality. Stories are mirrors, holding lies as perspectives. When I make my father an alcoholic who beats me at night, my reality distorts. I am not a victim of abuse. Yet, I know things I wish I didn’t. In my mind, I go through the abuse, to write a story for you. There are things you don’t know.
Art is a lie. Poets are liars. My heart doesn’t burn like a forest fire. You eyes don’t hold galaxies. I find you attractive and I grow nervous around you. The truth isn’t poetic enough to make you love me.
At 18, I see my best friend die. The car crashes like existence stopping for time to fill the void. The moments pass so slow. The broken mirror, cutting his face and missing mine. Alcohol is a bad driver. I wish I didn’t know, but I do.
This is not how it happened. My best friend is alive. I make your perspective feel sad, for tragedy to arrive. Reality is fabricated.
See, knowledge is misery. Reality is just perspective. It’s speculation. I don’t know anything. I could tell you hundred false stories or hundred true ones and call them false. Who do you believe?
Isn’t your life just one story?
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