Our conscious is our brother

 

This isn't something this page talks about, but why not?

Let me tell you a story about a young boy. he is just 14, and got a gift from his brother. He jumps and laughs, and gets all excited about this new toy that he is going to get. His brother was thrilled to see him after a long shift cause he was all he had. No parents, no one to support. The young-adult hands the gift to his brother. "It's a Fidget spinner!! " This is in 2016, and they are still trending.  spends most of his time with this hypnotic revolve-y thing. learns some cool tricks and isolates himself to it. His brother is back home from a hard-earned-bread day and looks at his brother. Smiles and moves on. The second day, smiles and moves on. On the third day smiles and moves on..

Do you know vending machines kill more people than sharks? People shake them. Tip them. Hit them. Hoping that what’s stuck inside… just drops. But sometimes it crushes them instead. Imagine dying for a snack you didn’t even need.

Slowly, slowly, the isolation grows stronger, and the boy kept it to himself. Won't speak to anyone, won't eat, just him and the tiny device, which made his hands shake and eyes still. The hit he was getting before was gone, and now he is doing it out of the addiction he has created. The slowly balding gets all worried as his little 5-foot life sits calm and silent. 

There was a man who lived next to a train station. Every morning, a train would pass at 6:04 a.m. Loud, violent, metal screaming against metal. He couldn’t sleep. He’d jolt awake, heart racing, palms sweaty. Then one day, the train didn’t come. He lay there wide awake, staring at the ceiling, trembling. Because it wasn’t the noise that broke him.

The dopamine kept kicking, the fingers itched, and the legs wanted to move, but the stillness is like a soft monk chanting. There is a weird scratch on his neck. A scar, no blood. Maybe it happened one night when he spun too fast, too long, too close. Or maybe it didn’t happen all at once. Maybe it was carved slowly by silence, by staring, by stillness. One layer at a time. The body always remembers what the mind tries to forget. The boy was too busy to even notice. Big Brother gets the hint that something might be up but ignores it. Now the anxiety increases. The devilish red instrument makes a sound that is a pleasure to the point of divinity. He worships it.

There was a girl who drowned in an aquarium. They say she leaned in too far. Watching the fish. Staring at their silence. Hours later, someone noticed her hand was still pressed to the glass. The fish just kept swimming. They always do.

He grew up. It became faster, louder, and endless. Stillness is still the same. And just like that girl in the aquarium, he leaned in too far. Eyes wide open. Breath held. Hand against the glass. Nobody pulled him back. The fish kept swimming. The brother kept moving on. The world kept spinning. It doesn’t scream. It doesn’t bleed. It just… looks peaceful. We celebrate calm. We praise silence. We applaud focus. But not all stillness is holy. Sometimes, stillness is just drowning, which is done slowly, quietly, and beautifully. And the worst part? Neck craned. Thumb twitching. Breathing shallow. Still watching the fish. Still pressing the glass. Just like the man by the train station, He got used to the noise. The chaos became his lullaby. And when the silence came… It didn’t calm him. It shattered him. He shakes and hits and tips whatever promises satisfaction. Even if it topples on top of him. He is still convinced he needs what is inside.

And the brother, knowing what is happening to his little kid, neglects him. Why? Cause the fidget gave him time to have his peace with his brother. No more extra plates to wash, no more clothes to wash. He has his own free time. He can relax and enjoy while his brother is in the hole.

The boy never blamed the fidget spinner. It was just a toy. A tiny circle spinning fast enough to feel like time was moving. But it wasn’t. He was the one who leaned in. And no one pulled him back. This story was never about fidget spinners. It was about what we reach for when no one’s reaching for us(not even us).