Eternal Reality

What if it was possible? Wouldn’t it disregard the very concept of mortality? Even if the molecular structure and the scientific make-up of the specimen produced would differ, the memories of the human source would create an extraordinarily normal human being, with emotions and feelings of its own. If the materialization of the conscience of a human is possible, then would there be anything separating the real and the unreal? Would the specimen produced from someone’s living memory be called virtual and artificial? Considering that it had an emotional and spiritual existence of its own, would we, the greatest creation of the one whose existence shall always be based on faith rather than evidence, doubt the authenticity of a specimen so perfect and complete in itself?

The only thing that really mattered to him, though, was that he would be able to meet her again…and he believed that all their science, their morality, their empty talk would be vain then. Happiness would finally find him, and he would purify his soul by allowing the suppressed tears contained in all those precious but wasted years of his life to expose themselves in front of her…and he would remain there always, with his head in her lap, even if it meant never to go back to that world again which had been home from the time he had opened his eyes. But he could do without them. If his concepts of truth, morality and love were deemed insane and absurd, he didn’t blame them…after all they had never been capable enough to understand….it was his arrogance that had made him believe they could. But it didn’t matter to him now…he had not wasted a single moment in making that decision…it would be so futile for anyone to even attempt to change his mind.

Sometimes he thought that maybe they all might try to deprive him of the only joy he could have after going through so much in a single lifetime…

Would they see then what he saw now?

A Suffering

All those wounds of the past act as stepping stones to a virtual reality whose realm is ever so enthralling. The world no longer beckons as the boy transforms into the man he had waited to become. Ironical is only an understatement if the whole situation is truly realized. Yet he moves forward, not because he has to or because he should, but simply because going backward is not an option.

The aftermath is not only horrifying but fatal without involving the violence associated with death. It is not the physical body that is harmed; murder of the soul has always been the strongest weapon. And yet he complies; knowing fully well there is no rational reason to continue and that the code of his life strictly prohibits such a violation. Selfishness as the only real principle in life is still what holds him together and keeps him alive; the truth is that love cannot be selfless.

That the suffering and internal bleeding of the soul is inexplicable makes him feel guiltier. Incomprehensible thoughts govern actions sometimes. That is probably the reason he dreams of those unattained quests his heart longingly desired at a time.

Platonic love has always appealed more to him than the carnal wishes of the body. However his philosophy remains that the heart, mind and the carnal body are not directed by different reasons; that using one’s mind to choose a person to love and loving a person through whom you want to achieve the most carnal of human desires is one of the only reasonable and morally correct decisions one can undertake. His suffering is more to do with the fact that he might not find another person worth his love, rather than being shunned without even being provided a chance to explain. Justifying is not what interests him; but the realization of the fact that he might never again feel a love so complete for someone else attacks ruthlessly at his heart, inflicting fatal wounds and making it more painful than actual death. It is like his existence borders exactly on the thin line separating the dead and the undead.

And the suffering might never end…