The hedonist without the means
A poem
It is a curse of nature that
our body and mind are
two distinct selves.
One does not have
control, or has the
bare minimum of it, over the other.
Our body perishes even after
our mind does all it can
to survive — kicking,
throwing, grasping, gasping, clutching,
clasping, screaming, punching, running,
jumping, rolling, blacking out and so on
and so forth.
Conversely, our mind
goes array, strays astray,
remains scrambled,
distracted and distressed,
depressed and perplexed,
whereas our body craves
nourishment, activity,
a structured day, exercise,
purpose, routine,
medication, sleep,
comfort, constant
waste disposal and
replenishment.
So this is the basic imbalance
of our existence, which
other animals know not,
if we follow and observe
Robert Burns’
mouse closely. Perhaps, this is
the price we pay for
being the current
King of the Jungle
(but, by no means, the perpetual,
e.g. the dinosaurs
and the possible existence of
superior intelligent beings
out there), the Lord of the Animal Kingdom,
the zenith of the food chain, the
celebrated Ashraful Makhluqat.
Be that as it may, in my humble
experience-derived opinion,
the worst thing to become
is a hedonist without the means.
For, that is a life without physical,
mental, moral, financial or earthly peace.
05.02.22
