Mitigated Hubris

You get your room in hell and you decorate it like an interior designer would do to a newly constructed house. What is the requirement to get a room in hell? In this country it's not much. The thing one should remember here is no matter how worse the conditions become you must always be thankful and you must always respect, no, not those who deserve respect, but the ones who exploit and torture you. Hell, here, just like homeopathic medicine, is individualised. What does a writer want? Just a hell to write about. There are two narratives in your head, one is your real-life narrative and one narrative of your serendipitously discovered alter-ego. The alter-ego knows shit. And he knows a lot of shit. The setup is pretty direct and not very complex. You study and through that study you earn money, or you have skills and through those skills you earn money. A structure works tirelessly to prevent you from studying or gaining skills, and if it fails in that it prevents you from earning money, directly. Why money, because money is the currency of survival. You know shit and you get disappointed because when you know shit you realise that humanity is controlled and those who control it have reduced it to a mere economic system when it is way more than that. But humanity being more than an economic system doesn't mean anything to the autocratic, despotic and tyrannical assholes that control the people and society. The control is direct. You don't know what is the concept of directness in people's heads but when you say direct, you mean direct, like the control of a remote controlled car or a robot through a remote. How did you end up here? You don't know. You have kept the room in hell comfortable for now. But the walls keep closing in and as things are going you are bound to get crushed between the walls. Your performance has been great. You have wrestled with impossibility and it's not about winning or losing anymore. One invariably knows what the result of wrestling with impossibility is. You are just having fun. You see life in retrospect and now you have a bird eye view of all that has happened. It's the same individuals who show people dying of starvation, food, and then snatch it away from them, eating all kinds of delicacies in front of them. These are the same individuals whose brains release dopamine when they deprive people and inflict sadism and cruelty on the most helpless of people. Unfortunately for them, you were not helpless, not even when you are alone. And thus you lived to tell the tale. You attended God's funeral. And after that you got busy decorating your room in hell. A whole decade of orientation with hell and you come to realise that all of these dreamweaving assholes are idiots. Corruption, sadism and depravity is the concrete mix which builds their empire and they are so high and so deep that possibility of God becomes negligible and yet when you were attending the funeral of God, you saw how whole trees grow from seeds, how deers have antlers, how tigers have claws, how fishes have fins and gills and how humans have intellects and you realise that God is not dead, He or She just doesn't bother. It's upon the deer to run faster than the tiger, to use his antlers to counter the claws of the tiger. The walls are closing in, but you realise that it is a contraption not made by God but by human demons who use the name of God like a remote control. It's hot, a bead of sweat trickles down from your forehead towards your eye only to get trapped by your eyebrow. Did God make the eyebrows or was it evolution? Who made evolution then? The salmon doesn't complain getting hunted by the bear, neither is it thankful of escaping the claws of the bear. And you know enough now to not be thankful for anything, except to other humans who have helped you, that, in fact is basic human decency.