the nonconformist wonders why is he wasting time, changing from one educational institution that doesn’t teach (anything good enough to waste 3 years on) and is not renowned, to another educational institution that doesn’t teach (anything good enough to waste 3 years on) but is renowned.
the nonconformist wonders why he is being victimized by the loopholes of an imperfect system.
the nonconformist doesn’t say that a perfect system can’t exist. but the nonconformist agrees anyway to the fact that if you skip one loophole, you fall into the next. it’s like an 8-bit video game and you are nothing but a few pixels of green pants and red shirt, running around chasing dragons that spit fire, dodging turtles that cost lives and saving girls that he spent more time chasing than kissing.
the nonconformist is asked a question that simplifies everything – because it is one dimensional. it questions and degrades even his existential crises. now this is not good … because his existential crisis is what keeps him searching and discovering the world, and the sky and numerous human bodies and vaginas and clitorises and this is what his existence is all about.
he laughs and shakes his head at the irony that his existence is a loop too.
existenceàexistential crisesà existence i.e. when you exist, you have an existential crises. when you have existential crises, hey, it is the definitive proof of your existence.
the question, “why do you not do normal things?” translates to why don’t you conform and make things easy?
if he talks about dropping out to pursue art, he is asked simple questions like “can’t you learn after college?” “can’t you do what people usually do?”
the non conformist is always bound by a piece of paper he needs.
why mister, the problem is, you think you have time.
i wouldn’t wanna waste my time learning slowly.
my pace is not slow mister.
i am not here for this.
i am not here to fill stupid paperwork that will go round and round from table to table until I will have to bang my fists on a table and create a dose of drama for the workplace inhabitants and say, “I have been running around since weeks. I gave you these papers. I want to get my work done. Or I will go to the authorities.”
so the nonconformist goes to the university, gets an acknowledgement that hasn’t been produced by moral understanding of right or wrong, no sir. the acknowledgement is an equation that has passed all the syntax and rules.
the non conformist then goes back to the table, slams the acknowledgment, goes round and round from table to table repeats the same process then threatens to quit.
the nonconformist tries to quit but fails.
the nonconformist has already traded his ideals and compromised with his art for societal priorities like money. and a job. the nonconformist wonders, how is it that people think they have time?
i am not here for this.
i am not here to spend half of my time waiting for buses to come.
i am not here to spend my other half traveling in buses or trains although the brotherhood that comes from adjoining travelers stuck in traffic is amazing.
we are time travelers. we are tralfamadorians.
we are not here for successful jobs.
we are here for evolution.
successful jobs aren’t evolution, my friend.
successful jobs are only distracting you from a revolution.
today I saw a Tyler Durden graffiti.
“let’s not conform“, says a nonconformist who has conformed to nonconformism.
© Kanchi Sharma/CampusGhanta