Stage/Palm/Critic

“...the world’s a stage..” says william. And how many of us have stage fright? Afraid of what the world has to offer. Fear. Feel trapped. Asking ourselves “Why am I here?” Question unanswered.

Life unfulfilled. And contented to be drones, living which is equal to slowly dying. Hoping less pain inflicted. Sometimes forgot that we are infact dying each day. That’s not so positive isn’t it? Well I am not in a postivite mood today, so what?

And how many of us is so brave, performing stage dives. Taking risks. Not knowing people down there gonna catch us or not. But we dive anyway. If we fell to the floor it’s not the end of our world. Just bruises and scars. Pain. Well pain tells us that we are alive. If we can’t feel pain, then we already died. Everything good and meaningful comes with pain. A mother delivers a baby in pain not laughing. Heck, don’t you remember, no pain no gain?

A baby born into the world with his/her palms closed, fist to the world. He’s the fighter! He’s the winner! Or she. Whatever. No he’s not crying. He’s actually shouting to the world “Yooooo! I’m here man, I’m coming to get you!¨, of course in baby language. We could not dechiper or understand. And his mother cried too. She’s happy. He is the new actor on this stage. He will play his roles. Whether he gonna become a hero,villain, samseng koreng, mat rempit, politician, pak pacak, stand up comedian, the jerk, the nerdy kid, the ustaz, the gay, whatever he chooses. There’s no script, no director, no make up artist, no nothing. It’s an impromptu. You create your own story. Your show. The curtain is open. The spotlight is on you. Action! No edits, no cuts, no CGI, no special effects, no stuntman. Or stuntwoman. Whatever.

And the man died, leaving this world, his stage..with his palms opened. And sometimes with eyes opened. Then we have to close it. Or in citer omputeh, put schillings on ‘em. Mata duitan la kiranya. And his mother cried too, if she’s still alive. Sad.

We are what we chooses to do or not do. If we act stupid, we do things stupidly, then we are defined as stupid. But if we act clever, but still cannot perform in a cleverly (is there such word,excuse me I’m stupid) manner, people can say we are morons acting clever. Right me if I’m wrong. Wrong me if I’m right. What can I do, I’m confused.

But then there are the critics. They will say things based on assumptions, assessments, their way of thinking, their benefits or other people benefits, their tasks, their options, their opinions. And who are they to judged others. Beats me. Critics are everywhere. There are silent critics. People critic people, judging in their mind’s eye without verbal notification. Simultaneously. I guessed it’s natural. We are equipped with the tools to critic. Sometimes it’s automatic. But you know what, a wiseman once said, well actually I read it, so he doesn’t actually say to me, nevermind. He said, well it reads, “If you don’t like critics, do nothing and be nothing¨. Correct him if he is wrong, don’t worry, he can handle critics.