"Drama, Tragedy and Comedy in Between?"

The sky is dispirited.

From afar, a disturbance is brewing.

The black clouds deepen.

The wind, blustery flaunting its might, whirs an unforeseen danger.

In a short while, the first drop of tear will fall from the heavens.

Tremor will be felt.

Chaos will erupt.

The torment will begin.

Awaitingly, as the inner storm sets off, we envision a way to outdare the inevitable. Either "[we] suffer," to borrow the words of Friedrich Nietzsche, "or survive to find meaning in the suffering." Neither sound comforting though, nonetheless, we have to choose.

For most of us, we decide just to be true. 

Sometimes, for years, we remain sincere to ourselves.

So rightful that, in point to experience, people at times misjudge us for who we truly are. 

We tell them what's true, they denounce us.

We tell them what's wrong, they condemn us.

We tell them what's funny, they pity us.

We tell them what's sad, they laugh at us.

They make us feel that we make dramas out of something; that we exaggerate the importance of anything minor (personal or not). And yet, these same faces are the first ones who, after hearing the news of your untimely demise, send flowers of condolences to your family. They show remorse when all else is gone, lost and forever unmendable.

Anne Frank is right: "dead people receive more flowers than the living ones because regret is stronger than gratitude."

So, the next time you see a person who looks calm on a sunny day sitting so quietly before you, 

take a deep breath.

Tone down. 

Respect the space. 

Feel the presence.

Be sensitive.

Never judge.

Know that somewhere within him, in the lowest recesses of his soul, lies an existential storm---- a drama for you, a tragedy to some, but is never, was never, and will never be a comedy to him.

"Just because he carries it well does not mean it is not heavy." 

06.11.2020

03:44 PM