An Estranged Genre

Imagine a singer performing in front of a critical audience the song of his life, the only song he must accomplish, that he trained all his life to achieve; he decides that he doesn’t like this song. Then, finally, he is mature and old enough to stop pretending his act.

But, still, he commits to the stage.

Imagine when you discover that everything you have been preparing since you were born was not real; it was a lie; the moment of truth shows that your whole life was a false dream.

Imagine when you realized that you were at the wrong stage.
What options do you have?

You can keep acting on what you learned until the last breath, then drop down and finish. This means you chose death before death; you can; it is your tendency.

You can terminate your role immediately and conclude your life instantly; simultaneously, you reach your truth. The only moment of sincerity would be the last, and nothing after.

The moment you realize that you are leading a fake life is the moment for your enlightenment, some can bear the pain of this moment and wait until the fog clears away to learn from their instants of devastation, and some can still smile while sensing the fire that is extinguishing all who they were while reasoning the lessons they became, reaching to the wisdom they need before they bow to their audience and leave.

Then depart the stage gracefully.

Dana Obeid