Submarines and subliminal blues

I had been following the whole Titan submarine story with bated breath, hoping somehow there would be survivors. Just like I had followed the plane disappearance of Malaysian Airlines Flight 370. In both cases, I knew the chances were next to negligible of anything being found. 

And yet I was hooked. There is something about hoping against hope. It is engrained in the nature of humanity for miracles to occur. But finally, as expected in the realm of reality, the press conference delivered the message that only some pieces of debris were found. The bodies would never be recovered. That's when I heard something fascinating. There had been an 'implosion'. 

I had never heard this word before. I started reading up on it. An implosion was the opposite of an explosion. In an explosion, everything is expelled forward because of the pressure build up in the centre. Whereas in an implosion, the outside pressure is so tremendous that it causes everything to collapse in the centre. I watched videos on how an object would implode because of the high atmospheric pressure at the bottom of the ocean. One video showed pig organs in a diving suit turning into mush in a matter of seconds. Only the Titanic wreckage lay 12,500 feet below the earth's surface. The pressure there would be so intense that death would have occurred in a split second. 

I thought of the Big Bang and Black Holes. Of how everything in the Universe is so carefully planned, in spite of seeming so chaotic.

But the word. Implode! What a beautiful word! I though to myself, could it work with human emotions too? If someone is angry, frustrated, overwhelmed, they could explode. There could be a tantrum, an outburst of tears, maybe even a physical fight. 

But it is also possible for humans to implode. Imagine being so sad, bitter or disappointed that you don't show it. Rather, you just crush your own soul. And bit by bit, pieces of you crush into yourself. Till one day, there's nothing left of you. Poof! You're gone. You have imploded.

I rather like this word. I'm surprised it isn't used often enough. But I am going to use it. Next time, someone asks me why I'm quiet or not smiling, I will tell them politely, please back away. I'm about to implode. 

Not the same effect as an explosion. But at least they will understand for a change, that even though it isn't visible on the outside, I could still be hurting. Crushed, rather. Converging into a single point of non existence. From infinity to a dot. 

Sometimes, even that is needed. To fold your open arms inside of yourself and say, enough. I'm all out of fucks to give. I'm imploding.