Hello, World — A prose
The day was not extraordinary in any respects. The desert Sun was up, attempting to roast the grounds as usual, and the Winter Winds pathetically but assuredly was able to envelope the one of the many McMansions scattered all around America and succesfully chilled its innards. Time flew by fast — too fast if you ask me, much faster than a hummingbird flapping its wings in flight — that my cyber time seemed like a few hundred years.
It was all but more than 6 hours already. Its 6:07 PM right now.
It was this time, this very snapshot of a million millisecond in different perspectives converging into one, that Depression crept up with his scythe and cloak, eagerly slashing my energetic heart to a heap of shaking leaves. With my MP3s clamoring salvation by anchoring tunes to the past — something to call upon me like the many Sirens serenading this sailor of life to a better world — it was yet another case of Nostalgic Helplessness. Really, there comes a point wherein sentiments such as this are a welcome addition to the camaraderie of emotional gatherings I always have. Hey, its great to alive, isn’t it?
Just as I was in the middle of my negotiations between death-like Depression and Jars of Clay’s Five Candles, a thought hit me — what if I checked out "whoamI.com" and see how others see themselves from their own magnifying glass. Like Enrique de Malacca about to embark on an unknown journey as told by a foreign master, my hands typed nonchanlantly.
W H O A M I . C O M
AS the countless electronic synapses translated the web address to its DNS name, the seemingly lifeless box blinked back a white screen. Together with the following words :
Hello, world!
It was such an outwardly, congenial, extroverted reply back to such an introspective question! "Hello, world!" didn’t just bring back a foolish explanation of this and that, and that and this, but simply itself.
"Hello" — that gesture of friendliness, of nonagression. A greeting in itself that neither tells of night, day; afternoon or dusk. Its a statement of power. "Hello" What power.
"World" — the capsule of our lives. The capsule of our souls. The blob of immediate reality for all of us; so big yet so incomplete. So vast yet so small. This table, chair, computer, and a kitty called Cuddles is my "World". Yet so is that thunderous roar of jet engines roaring overhead, or that notion that the airport is only 10 minutes away from me.
Hello, world!
There is no self if there’s no world. There’s no world with no self. We make the world; and the world makes us. It is not to look deep into the nether realms — to the zenith of the self — that we find us. It is in the world. Out there. Here. There. Wherever you are.
Hello, world!
Its like another set of enlightenment I’ll soon be unattaching myself from memory. Another one of those miny movie-esque episodes playing antiquated personal films. But I’d rather indulge on this right now like its the $5 7 layer chocolate cake from Bennigans. Or something. I don’t care. Its wonderful.
Hello, world!
I am here. You are here. Is there individuality like we claim we have? I personally don’t think so. The world makes us; conversely, we make the world by bringing a piece of it back to where we go to. There is no disconnection, only connection. And we are all responsible for our world. And, guess what? We have to act. This entry most likely will be posted as yet another monologue in the biliions of blogs out there. Do I care? No. But whatever. This is my way of saying:
Hello, world!
Cheers. And pass the Hello around.
Kristian
