Vortex

The spectacle inside this vortex reeks anarchy, rumpus and fear. Straying my eyes, I behold within this mess, various so called important fragments of life swirling around arbitrarily with people unrelentingly hounding them. I see within this vortex, luxuries, societal status, individualism, liberalism, hedonism, orgies and wealth. However disorganized the picture may be; stratification of this rowdy whirlwind, which comprises different people with different pursuits, is now visible to me. There are people replete with and tenaciously clinging on to all the aforementioned fragments, believing that their prosperity is now guaranteed and waiting for this storm to end. Not far behind are those who already possess some but proprietarily follow the fragments eluding them. And then there is a 3^rd class of humans which wobble close to the threshold of this incarceration. Having scruples and unwillingness to stay in, this class contains species which only whine and fear, desperately trying to draw confidence out of others around them and inadvertently making themselves a part of this pursuit of prosperity. Remaining lot of this 3^rd class I see really struggling to break the chains and revert to the outer world.

Beyond this haze and commotion I see but only a vague picture of the outer world. A world whose environment is calm, organized and which was once mine. I see my health, my family, my friends all of whom I once considered my greatest asset. They stand concerned with eyes wet, still yearning for my possible return. But what's startling and unresting is that some of the so called important fragments of life I have been following sacredly like societal status, luxuries and wealth are right there with them. The only difference is that humans on the farther side struggle for these only up to a certain limit. They all stop before the threshold of this vortex, graciously accepting and relishing what they and what I once possessed. There exists satisfaction and balance of everything. And the reason why they all stop before the threshold is because they cannot see anything beyond it.

With each passing second and cycle of motion, this monster is drawing me closer to its abyss of despair and oblivion. The indistinct view of outside is now transient, quickly to be disappeared. Sooner or later all those who are present inside this whirlwind would be meeting the same end. Inches away from being consumed and meeting my fate, I am a paragon of loneliness, anguish and repentance for failing to see that I cannot see beyond the threshold.