Dystopia Turca: A Novel of My Existence

You see, I always liked solitude but I never liked loneliness. My life was a continuous game of hide and seek with people I know and I don't. 

I loved living in that twilight zone where one usually thinks the person one actually wants to talk-to is just round that corner, so there is no need to invest emotionally to the particular person of this instant. I am not talking about sex or living a life together, but small talk, daily effort to communicate. It is not my forte I believe. 

Many people probably thought I was a bit boring; sometimes I am bored of myself, so they were probably right. Anyway.

I was rarely if ever rude though. I kept proper appearances most of the time and behaved like a model human until I faced studied rudeness, intolerance, dislike or hate. Then I would go ballistic. 

The kind and caring and understanding and listening and patient and pedagogic human being would be very quickly replaced with a raging rabid polar bear with serious personality issues. I could, then, be really very ugly and damaging. 

Damage usually was done to myself through a painful bout of embarrasment that I was not able to talk about with anyone but at least I was not suppressed by the rudeness of an idiot. Congratulations are in order; to me. Idiot.

When I was half of my age today, I was forced to hang up the costume of that particular rabid polar bear with serious personality issues forever because I realized I was literally surrounded by rabid animals in the shape of my fellow humans; social rabies took over our societies and, that turned people into monsters.

I was helpless; us, people like me all over the world who thought humans can all live together in peace with warts and all realized that we can not do that. With that realization, at least on my part, a great chunk of my life went to the dustbin of history as Karl Marx would have said; although he had already said that for something else. 

The progression from simple to sophisticate, from poor to rich, from ignorant to learned was not guaranteed any more. We were fooled or at least I was. I was carried away by my stupidity aided and abetted by an unflinching belief in the goodness of humanity. Humans are not cute animals, they are not teddy bears I can tell you. I shall come to that later.

It was as if history had asked us to write an essay: define togetherness. We wrote and we failed big time. This failure changed the rules of our existence on earth and as a consequence our conditions got worse, much worse for years to come.

Majority was happy to languish in a flood of anger carrying away and finally drowning all the values that I and the many across the world held dear. 

I and the many across all continents were a minority though; we knew a lot, we produced a lot, we had even invented all the stuff that were used to create others as figures to detest by the hate packs but we were utterly impotent against the rising tide. 

We could not differentiate our asses from our arm pits for decades and now we had become unwitting actors of a scary opera with real blood, sweat, tears and screams all over the stage. There was no expectation of a fat lady that will end the suffering; yet.

The learned orangutans of the academia announced that the Age of Embarrasment had arrived. Supposedly humanity was embarrased in its entirety because of the shameful actions of a deplorable minority whose greed, hate and selfishness were anathema to human values.

 This so called minority was actually the majority that was not embarrased at all but was proud with their newly found courage to vent their fury against anything and everything that irritated them. They were easily angered and their motto was: don't provoke me.

Clearly, to offend the sensitive souls of these numerous hate pack members would be a mortal sin and the academic orangutans, hence, produced the title: Age of Embarrasment.

In fact the Age of Hatred had arrived. Anger and despise had become the backbone of the predominant ideology, hatred had become the zeitgeist running the engines of politics from within its bowels with occasional but extremely smelly farts.

Every passing day, week, month and year, we tested new depths that humanity was capable of sinking. It was like the Mariana Trench in the Pacific Ocean; maybe deeper than that. By the way, Mariana Trench is now being filled with all the plastic of the Age of Hatred and before.  

Some chose exile abroad but wherever they went, social rabies was spread like their own societies; people were sick. Those new refugees, despite having money and rarely cultural sophistication and money were simply outsiders and outsiders were others, the new-scum as an Anglo Saxon politician of the time called them. 

Glass ceilings that we always had, had become impregnable granite boxes in which the other was forced to live. Every other had his or her granite box that had no doors or windows. Money, knowledge or culture never bought guaranteed safety. 

Many chose to come back to their own familiar dens in order to live with their own kind of monsters; some even chose to be members of various hate packs. Better safe than sorry a man whom I used to work together told me; I did not talk to him or saw him since. I hope he is dead.

Others decided to work like old time Muslim dervishes or Christian missionaries in order to spread the virtues of togetherness, goodness and shared humanity. Unfortunately, they were detested as weaklings because, those values belonged to a bygone age that noone wanted to remember and everyone actively hated.

Whenever I read about them or saw them, I remembered the orange dhotied  Hare Krishna cult members walking with gimbals in their hands in London's Oxfort Street. Orange definitely lost and the gray guy with the end is nigh placard around the corner had won. Easily, hands down.

I chose isolation. As I said before, I always liked solitude. Being born in July, I am a Cancer, so, I easily decided to withdraw into my cave and wait for this epidemic to go away. It suited me.