Tag Archives: communication

February Ping Pong with Guy ‘Dhyan’ Traiber & Sana Rafiq

You can read the interview of my friend, Guy ‘Dhyan’ Traiber on LiteraryMary!

We talk about culture, countries, writing, and ourselves!

Dhyan writes on his blog: http://utopianfragments.wordpress.com

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Earth, round, rolling, compact–suns, moons, animals–all these are are words to be said*

14096808371d7825afc8150fk0 i have often realized that a state of despondency comes over me like a dark shadow, during the days when i don’t write. all the horrors that we speak of existing in the world are initially conceived within us, that they will formidably swallow us one day if we do not keep at bay. a swift kick in the butt might initiate movement, or say, some michevious event in the near future, to keep the devil happy and content enough not to severe the suffering individual’s umbilical cord with his beloved muse. speaking of cords, or alexander graham bell (which also reminds me of certain cookies), who invented the so-called telephone, which has been upgraded with the much hip cellular phones, i think back to a time when communication was far more ‘actual’ in the sense that if one wanted to speak to somebody, all they’d do was pick up the phone and call them.

today, however, we have alienated each other in the process of increasing accessibility, through means of text messaging, chating and emailing. speaking on the phone has come down to mere professional or impersonal communication, well i suppose i speak for myself here. i am sure there are many normal folks out there who follow the old school ways. growing up as a chatter box, i used to constantly stay in touch with my friends on the phone, after school. perhaps it has to do with age? a propensity towards the goth-era of self-pity or the fear of putting one’s vulnerable self out there, to people whose kindness you are not sure about, that has reduced the warmth of socialising. the effect is radical, revolutionary, and surprisingly ironic. technology has had its side effects, whether anyone wants to admit it or not. but that follows for everything, every action will have some reaction, barring its nature of course, i.e. positive or negative; an interpretation that rests soley on the individual contemplating the particular topic.

perhaps we are all too prejudiced with our selves, to have any space or time for others. who knows? is it our education? the economy? that’s sucking the blood out of our lives? everyone’s worried about paying bills, making ends meet, that we don’t have time to live for the good things much less appreciate a good laugh, and the days pass by inconsequential. it’s quite idiotic how i look forward to only the certain minimal reduced responsibilities or events, and disregard whether it is morning, noon or night. while i turn my face away from nature and her kindly unwavering continuation of existence, i find myself, reduced, compressed like excess unused data in an old hard drive.

not only has existence become a curse for everyone (and you know what i am talking about), but it has become a burden as well, something which it is not supposed to be. we as a collective humanity, have managed to rape mortality out of its innocence, and today suffer the humiliation, the sin of a mortified decadent civilization, too wary to want to continue forward. so there is nothing new to be done? somebody went to the moon, somebody came up with the religions, the renaissance is over, and mona lisa is overrated, people are so bored that they’re re-making all the classics or mocking the normal movies. it is repetition, my friends, an impotency, which makes me quote tolstoy’s famous words, “where do we go from here?”


*Walt Whitman – Carol of Words