Full Frontal Farce !
Seriously, it has gone too far …out of control … and such so, pls bear me in peace forever ☮️ prayers 🙏
Seriously, it has gone too far …out of control … and such so, pls bear me in peace forever
☮️ prayers 🙏
I was already dead before the fateful destiny led me all along to declare me as “other-worldly fled.”
Confession: My most coveted seat nowadays is in the toilet. Yes, things have changed ever since last summer. I have aged and saged drastically.
The quite ache of what was almost stable( in the days of the yore,) is calling out feelings of longings. It’s a different kind of longing. Every bog visit has become extraordinary. It’s like an anticipatory celebration lingering around a looming tragedy. A paradox of ruthless philosophies have emerged while engaging in the diurnal dailies of the toilet. Herein, it’s not unusual for me to feel: less as more and “more or less,” like a nostalgia striking unexpectedly. This has led to confusion and occasionally I fall into weeping as those loosies pass me by unawares.
It’s like beheld between two worlds with the likelihood of me not sitting content in any.
Literally, being there, feels like a long drawn seizure.
I guess I was predestined to be on the edge of joining the numbers in the streets, trailing to walk royally so as to be seen as “already arrived.” All this because I have learnt to take it slow since last summer. Another sign of aging gracefully.
Think of it as this grace of long show —coming off for a casual tread, and whence-fore as in sheer disposition compelling me to sit it out anywhere and everywhere. That’s ☝️ a glimpse of my daily “sits- walks-trots,”exquisitely shaping into new forms. To be honest , I am beginning to find all this change rather alarming.
No matter the place, whether good or not; I find myself trooping indiscriminately, ever since last summer.
And being on feet for long durations has been risking me to sashay that constipated look for those stools have gone far. But there’s no abandonment to be read here, okay! Every morn, wistfully and covertly, with clenched jaws , and grueling shunts, I am somehow passing the obstacle course in the bogs. With age , dispensing the aggregates of the tummy (in one go,) is like arriving successfully at some interim policy decision. With age, to do or not to do has become an issue with me. Since one mid-summer- night last year —most abruptly and quite amorphously, my gushing stomach has taken to quaking and it’s releasing anything -anywhere. The diarrheal disease has blown out of proportion. That’s pushing me to diapers. To that also—I cry hoarse, every now and then.
And as for the reasons behind such beastly acts if any is —-age expediting itself to perfect senility.
And I know, very soon I shall qualify (in all likelihood) as the best bore ever understood.
Yes, that switch happened one mid summer night, last June.
I haven’t been myself ever since .
Up until then, in all that I had gently grown (and ‘twas no better than I c’d h’ve ever imagined to have borne,) I was shaping my intuition. My premonition had lifted heads like this : Just as I see you, only more clearly, most unusually, as decrepit as me.
White headed ( not enlightened,) I was turning old and ever so, for all purposes, beginning to show on all fronts!
My waning mane (also) was falling apart ; much like, out of line. It may sound like horror of horrors as I vent this or dare to speak of the afore as a furor.
Whether you stride forward or lunge backwards.
Either-which-way, you choose.
And if you fear to view me as too far gone, then simply run!
For the purpose of this anecdote, I shall say I have transformed . I am quite the old lady 👵 ever since last summer.
Clearly taken by surprise in this world to come are many surprises for which I haven’t prepared. I have just rolled into it.
But in all that I have grown, no better than I c’d have ever known, I am simultaneously approaching SAGE-HOOD at enormous speeds. So beware I have ardently started practicing prayers and chanting rosaries.
And here, by the way, unfolds another set of my beastly behaviors.
And of course with the little history of priestess-hood attached to my ancestry, I am connecting (heavily,) to preachers in thought 💭 like this:
In distress, St Paul once said :
For I do not do the good I want,
But the evil I do not want that I do
I see in my members another law at war with the law of the mind, making me captive of the law of sins that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am, who will rescue me from this body of death. That what is said I who lives ; it’s you within me that gives so I is no longer I who lives.
Also, strange as it seems and among all other things which come naturally to me, there’s this void provoking me to sit content forever and muse.
Look ! Here’s a glimpse of my free verse that—now— belongs to Dead ☠️ Poets Society.
A shadow dresses the moon,
The sun in all its prettiness also attunes
A bareness as a siren comes to croon
For a thwat in silence rests in gloom
Then there are those scared chants — wailing at me to master more of that sainthood.
So, to be commissioned as an exemplar in the enlightenment domain, I am automatically remaining wide awake ( with eyes and mouth open,) all through the night.
Yes, you guessed it right—that matter concerning the control of pee is also powerful thro’ the night. With that I am equally becoming proficient in sleeping upright in the toilet.
Also I am a little more than profusely weeping while immersing myself deep in devotion while I worship my chosen deity.
And now singing hymns( loudly,) with fellow congregates might be altogether overwhelming! Any sort of over excitement causes unimaginable chaos in my body. Yes, you imagined it right. I inadvertently and quite immediately excuse myself to the bogs. In ways my regular actions seem like pleas. Forbearance and tolerance has crossed all limiting thresholds.
Nevertheless, in all this, one thing remains intact. It’s the quantum truth repeating itself in many fallacies. Most inappropriately it’s calling me out of time ,more specifically, as time and tide are going alike in losing breath and catching me unawares in that space time.
Dear Reader .. spare me some slack. I shall be done sooner than later.
There you go —I dumped that again!
It’s a relief !
Adieus! Chaos! Namaste!
© ✍️ Madhu Goteti, July 31st, 2025
About the Creator
Madhu Goteti
The thrums in the strums and the delights in the humdrum of life have always fascinated me.
It’s that feast of reason and flow of soul; in all that I see and all that I shall behold!
I am an avid lover of art and philosophy!
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Resignation
Of lately, I have been touched (suggestively,) by this growing AI movement. And, one among the many acts that I choose to do is: Resign to it! Whether I resign to it or resign from it —the truth remains —it has touched me —deeply. Got it! This is my hand 🤚🏼 to notice. At any rate, a type of “awakening,” is instituting itself on all fronts and it is claiming its obnoxious presence all over the realities that we have come to believe! A sort of make belief ( I suppose,) outside the realm of “space -time,” continuum. And quite honestly, as I try to conceive or rather perceive these upcoming realities, I see divinity in people bridled over synthetic tendencies. Also, the eminence of science coursing through our minds ( as if, with infinite fortitude,)sensitizes me towards the regenerative powers of AI. And so, the possible vision when indulged—reveals a metamorphosis—wherein, humanity might not remain as it once was. The irony of being brought up to that point signifies either a triumph or a defeat of whatever shall be left of “us,” in the true sense of our “individualities,”remaining intact. However, that might not be the total truth. Hence, I insist to express my final adieus to life while standing up—in defense against the anguish of living amidst such a revised version of me that shall —no longer harbor “me” as “me” in the future. Yes, this does sound like the “hard problem of consciousness,”tangled in different parameters. Like an illusive impulse entangling humanity everybody might be brought to a point of following an unprecedented condition, wherein—I might also turn into a floating apparition. For example .. monkey say, money do and the rest must follow to pay 💰their dues 🙈 🙉 🙊 And among such perceived realities—the theory of consciousness shall transcend new beginnings,as though, restructuring itself at minuscule levels so as to skew the truth behind mind, life and thereby living. Think of an automata anime avatar coming into existence and ruling your presence in the digital world. Still further just imagine your mind mirroring it all as though you are neuro-linked. All this might seem like an abstraction but we are not far from it. If not already! Beware! Just imagine —Turning into some superlative existent phenomena wherein reality loses its way. You and I might perish or disappear into “nothingness.” No matter what, my imagination gives up claiming to achieve any specific kind of Supra understanding that might belie such a transformative era. I refuse to give into that. And so on and so forth, there could be more to imagine when you care to listen. What if —a scientifically programmed pill is handed over to us 💊 to overcome ourselves from our own original selves; be like abilities and capabilities put together for refinement. In that moment of knowing and not knowing exactly —what and why —where would you go? Where do you think your essence shall reside. Have you ever wondered— Where will your entity exist in such a state of existence. Will such a petrification rapidly cease our creative intuition as well as the critical mind? Will life become a relic, losing its spirit and real sense?! Those are the questions literally haunting me nowadays. So with that said, I am keeping this first person “resignation,” handy. I mean just in case everything becomes preposterous to handle by me. Yes, that would feel like a dispersion from the formerly and to that effect, I would have overstayed on this planet. Certainly, that would be like breaking the habit of being me, and emancipating “self,” to the point of no originality. And to realize that authenticity c’d be misled into such a false of “self view,” seems nothing short of an eradication. It’s a prospective that might emerge from somewhere else, but certainly, not from the roots of my own being. To any such probable (impending ,) apocalyptic doom , I resign in advance ! What haunting harmonies shall ascend or descend our nerves, and pendulously oscillate around many vagaries—only time can tell ! Furthermore, after slogging hard at my desk, here’s what I choose to pen 🖊️ as a parting dribble of drab. Snag, if you can ! Henceforward in the AI world, I wonder : What splendors of day and night shall specter me—I do not know. Will the future hold —one to many and many to one in an encapsulated mystery of unity to uphold common intelligence, and then, artificially applaud the myriad gods, much beyond and much above, the splendors of spiritual realms. What sort of rounded creativity w’d come of me in a muse when such a grace befalls via artificial intelligence (AI era.) To me, that all seems like an alien flippancy. Pardon me , I insist upon attaching self to my stubborn individuality and resist whatever transmutes through me in the name of artificial intelligence AI. And I know such a rationale might seem baffling to a spiritual vedantist but these are not ideas coming to any conclusion. Nobody knows about future in all surety. These are just probabilistic thoughts uncovering futuristic living —wherein—I am being precocious enough to seek permission from self to free myself from those exposed irrelevancies because such a situation might strike at my original-prolific-creativity and stop its natural flow. For in all that, my identity shall find itself artificially upended; trapped, swingling to tow and row endlessly in an amalgam of a meaningless void. At any rate this AI age makes me feel sussed 🙄. I feel staged over a contraption—much like an inflicted erasure of my original identity. The doctrine of being “differently seen,”sooner or later, will vanishing into a state of “oneness.” A loss of identity amidst promising changes flourishing over flooded mentalities. A Hegemonic-mechanized creed could emerge gradually, and thereby cast its elaborate forms to rule life in an ordered fashion. The notion of —oneness of☝️ spirit will transmute. A futuristic world where all of life c’d amass intelligence to extraordinary proportions—with the supple legacy of “individualities,” lain extinct. The genus of “homo,” itself might dissolve into what was once known of it to existence. Extinction! Yeah! Soon I will be there as well 😅And much before that sunset savage arrives fully, I am seeking my resignation from such a randomized functioning. Living to that point, as I fantasize might be like digging a hole with my own hands and sleeping in it fully circumcised. 😂 It shall be preposterous to witness the primal part of my “nature” gone and potentially, living in it,with no reason, might seem like an overstay. Such an opulence with no better end to cause, would tear me apart. I wouldn’t be me because AI would be stealing me from me. Imagine spooning your own mouth to allow AI to feed you to successfully arrive at some staged calamity. Such demonic power c’d be an offshoot of artificially contrived intelligence. What if, by any chance, it chooses to have a run away reaction. I might be half killed and find myself seeking fruition amid those confusing realities. Much like put amid the directive principles of faked falsities. And in all this, I shall miss my own original creative ingenuity.Nah baba nah 🙅! What I mean by that is : whatever value that cognition holds in retaining originality, that will be all gone. This AI era with its inventive edges, —undoubtedly, pretends to be more virtuous in form. Such new norming realities of “make beliefs,” could coax humanity into extinction. It may be noted that mankind in its journey of discovery and delight is approaching the plausibility of being unbeknownst to itself. Herein, admittedly, Darwin or Darwinian thought lies beyond the scope of this writing. As a tangent to the thought —that theory would claim none by assuming that nothing of its original course shall —finally remain. For example, the emergence of Artificial intelligence and the simultaneous rise of applied “consciousness,” staged over quantum levels of varying schemes might turn highly superlative. Subsequently, the acme of thought c’d awaken the following deep question: Could we be meeting gobbledygook systematicity, entailing us to confirm to unoriginal falsities. Where w’d a spiritualist exist in all this? With precision pushing philosophies —that far —where will divine entities or divinity reside?! The whole divinity will be pushed beyond its divine nature, formulating “Supra beings,” hovering over quantum levels of obscurities. To that point, I am reminded Schrödinger’s cat —one moment here , one moment there. Will empiricism sustain over such saber edges and pretend to have survived virtuously🙄 or will we all connect and become a generic property of some other zoned realities. Big question 🙋🏻♀️: Accordingly, will AI make centaurs of us all. I mean aren’t we reaching a point where a new era of order is contending to redefine, refine and reuse humanity and turn it into a sort of “machine bolted,” species with no reasoning of its own or perhaps, better said, our very own existence( in itself,) is being defined by varied simulations. I don’t approve of this. After the first incredulous shock given by social media age, I have awakened to many artificially contrived analogies in the name of experiential learning. Terrifying deliberations, I must say. And so, much before a meta-sized AI version of me arrives loathing in contempt over those pitiful sorrows —divinely mounted over AI platforms, I choose to pause , contemplate and resign! As a matter of fact over mind, just imagine this: our appearance and disappearance distinctively controlled, and in all that, our very own individualities—judiciously—made unreliable. That would be infernal 🔥 fire, which is likely to be worse than Russian torture. Will I be made unreal over contrived grounds of adequacies and inadequacies. This perhaps may sound like an astonishing reality to face but its not far off from not being exposed totally. Quiet enough, I won’t hiss with it, quivering to harvest such fiery pits of hell and effectively be thrilled to whisper : “O! Yea! That’s so fine! How wickedly attractive it is. There’s more to imagine in this AI world. It’s a matrix in which multifarious and multi dimensional approaches c’d reveal themselves as an intuitive enigma. This then, would illuminate or presuppose a lateral questioning about our true originality—identities. Such a stance in itself would assume a rigorous questioning. Particularly, might I say—where will be the “origins of our species?!” Everything would seem to be at the verge of emerging into a new doctrine of being “differently-alike,” or rather “seen-unseen.” A state of oneness ☝️ newly formed over a unified platforms of virtuous schemes. And consider all this as a rationale behind realistic behavior especially with respect of the preserved individuality and divine entities. That would be like cadence drawn towards a sacred shrill. All that ☝️ distinctively entangles a disturbing loss of individuality! I don’t contend to that very well. Origin of our species when taken as naturalistic is at the cusp of existential crisis! What counts to be human in all this?! Have you ever questioned that? I mean how can artificial be used for real —and for that matter of fact—affect consciousness. Conclusive 💭thoughts: Will AI control minds of humanity? Something about it feels troubling and terribly misleading. Never going cautious in the way I word it , it all seems like a Titanic Troy—legitimately tinkering our lives amid the livestreams of ironies already brought out by everyday realities. All that is surfacing for me to express in such a way that I feel like resigning from this AI world. At birth, I had signed up for a life that I w’d feel passionate about. What is this grace of artificial intelligence turning me into an automata. A contraption that’s breaking the habit of being the real me. Believe you me I have meditated 🧘♂️ 🧘🏽 🧘♀️ to that point in disbelief. There’s more to imagine — if YOU 👂 listen No assurances and insurances in such a staged life. So officially, I am stepping down. Today, however, I aspire to move towards a “new normal,” that I must scrutinize; a must for that change to come over my (age-old,) spirit. Call me a consciousness revolutionary ! The following justifies both a triumph and a defeat of whatever is left of the “real me,” in this world of make beliefs. After all, who am I to believe —this or that, with 💯 % surety ?! Influencer : a turning point stitched to the essence of my being. Incorporating the preceding experience —in words—it w’d be like casting self into a momentary conservancy! I know —some monks might call this : a point of “nothingness.” A point of mesmerizing mortuary ( seeking the eternal calm,) and arriving in such a manner as to express this : the final rapprochement of life is a make belief. Once again I stand in defense against such a living. Yes, I come from a land where think-tanks seep in the fields where microscopes 🔬 go far beyond observers keen. Imbued to me is this : to know thyself, and to see what you choose to see—out there, far beyond! Herein, the AI jury dismisses all phases of life in an hour of awakening, and apocalyptically holds a nadir of torpor over me. And hence —barely squeaked out—I wish to resign from such a living. It’s not a suicide. So please 🙏 don’t send in a squad in the name of a rescuing alibi. I promise boldly that I shall slowly perish in this composition and my soul shall ascend to vitality. And I know —no real money nor compensation c’d account for such a grace casted over me in this form of reprieve. Whatever it is, I vehemently seek reprieve. Yes! It’s an imperative to understand what a new life or a new beginning truly means—especially, in this context of the human race undergoing a major transformative change. This is an AI era, a sort of a complex form of construct, threateningly proposing to eradicate the basic luminous point of our origins. We are living at the edge of conscious revolution —heavily proposing to press- compress people on the basis of unique classifications of belongingness. The springing geopolitical crisis is silent reminder of similar grace and analogies. Just imagine —facts fixed to the gross and the opposite. A cosmic resizing —in the name of elevation. A cheering spirit that goes past and holds all in the glorification of all; a type which goes on in the name of unification and then, potentially everything shall seem STILL in sameness. Then again , just imagine —all this living —reshaping and redesigning bent over varied cultural scapes. Here is where a formless chaos can emerge. Wants and needs might take a different tilt-skew, meeting submissive over the debris of emotions. An alien environment shackling our souls amidst grossly trivialized bonds, automatically woven or superimposed from outside to make us proclaim resurrection automatically. Also imagine an outsourced spirit sealed in DNA 🧬 strands in the name of freely formed species. Therein, something shall linger. Potentially, something of living when living in it has completely GONE. The goodness gained would simulate something like: running 🏃♀️ 🏃♂️ 🏃 in streets —much like the the way life gets represented by everyone naturally —playing their own game of survival. Can we say each to his own or will it magnify towards “each to that unknown.” What legacies will stand in defense against such a anguished living. More likely, with it —the question of legitimacy of life might emerge? Something like: Who am I truly?! AI could reshape us to that extent. I wonder whether this could be a spiritual force of unification or something of anything appearing to make mankind more and more deficient. Here’s why I sign this Declaration of Independence from all directive shackles of eclipsing philosophies which is taking a pronounced turn into varied political outbursts all over the world. The above 👆 analogy points towards the formless chaos running 🏃♂️ thro’ the streets of graceful living with all quarters of gracious living gone. Here and there, a false-proof and not the “whole truth,” seemingly governs our day to day living. Hitherto, I am drawn to a different outlook, and I am preparing to rethink or redesign myself, naturally. An impulse or a force to resign from such a resurrection. Consider this more like a re-awakening overturned into a reversal. And I am not shy 🙈 to be remembered lovingly as yours truly while I end ✍️ this ☝️passage purporting me to RESIGN. Post Script : Don’t copy me. I just opened my soul to you, not my book 📖🤣 © Madhu Goteti , May 26th 2025
By Madhu Goteti Exclusive • 8 months ago
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