I am an invisible man. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible; understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination – indeed, everything and anything except me. That invisibility to which I refer occurs because of a peculiar disposition of the eyes of those with whom I come in contact. A matter of the construction of their inner eyes, those eyes with which they look through their physical eyes upon reality. I am not complaining, nor am I protesting either. You often doubt if you really exist. You wonder whether you aren’t simply a phantom in other people’s minds. And, let me confess, you feel that way most of the time. You throb with the need to convince yourself that you do exist in the real
World, which you’re a part of all the sound and anguish, and you strike out with your fists, you curse and you swear to make them recognize you. And, alas, it’s seldom successful.
There are many things around us and a countless number of action figures. Although we are not quite aware of all these indistinguishable strings; we hardly notice them but they play a pivotal role in shaping our daily lives. Our lives are shaped or fashioned according to the environment we live in and our daily interaction with things which are invisible. One good example that I would like to quote is a very simple one and almost every human go through this stage; the example that I would like to give you is that of the toys or dolls. We all have had an interaction with toys or dolls in childhood and we are not aware how they form our lives. There are many dolls around us in life; there are the dolls from cartoons and the Barbie’s, and an innumerable number of other toys or dolls. Before these new age dolls, there were old ones, ones made out of paper and porcelain, and a Pinocchio here and there. People seem to be unusually interested in these lifeless impressions of ourselves. Children use them and play “war“, put them in houses and convertibles, while adults seem to like to collect them and let them sit, motionless, on a shelf to look at real life. This brings me to an intriguing question. Are people merely dolls for other people to play with or collect? One could make the argument that we are all “Invisible Man “, doomed to dance by invisible strings for people’s entertainment while wearing a mask of individualism. However, most of us will not realize that who pulls the string, is not ourselves. The “Invisible Man” is filled with images of dolls like it is constantly trying to remind the reader that no one is in complete control of themselves. Everyone has an interaction with things which they are not conscious of and this goes on in life; our lives revolve around invisible strings and we are deeply attached with them. I can somehow quote that’ our life is a reflection of invisible things and they play a major role in the upbringing of the personality of a person.
I would agree with the statement or rather the proverb life is a network of invisible things and I would go in favor with it. We need to deeply ponder over certain matters as to why things are attached to invisible strings? Why are there such aspects which we ignore? What the reason behind thing and what is something made for and how it changes our life? Humans have a natural inclination or tendency of not thinking over meager things in life. There’s a reason and a meaning to everything little object or entity and because of these little yet vital and critical invisible strings; our lives and character are shaped according to it.
To come to a conclusion, our lives are a network of invisible strings and each string has an adequate importance, it has an overall major influence on the moral and character of the person. Our life is shaped according to the environment we live in and it revolves around like a network. Our life is an interaction of invisible strings and we will often not assess the value of it.