Not knowing how to begin this piece, we wanted to speak of many things. So much is in our consciousness at he moment, needing to erupt into the living world. So many times we are fearful of the consequences of our thoughts, our desires, of the very feelings that are supposed to define who we are. Not today, today we release unadulterated and hideous, the inside that has been hidden from the living world. The things we always knew to be true, but wanted to keep in obscurity; forever living in the abyss.
When reaching into that place we all have, inside, where we hold the truth as we believe it to be about ourselves; we shy away. We know that inside this cauldron of emotional scraps, we imprison the truths we all need to deny in order to survive this hell we all currently occupy. You see, hell is nothing more that the life we currently lead here, in this time and place. When we delve into the cauldron we can see why there are those, like us, that have been created to dwell here. We are not victims, we are as we were meant to be.
We do not want to generalize at all here. For the longest time, we wanted to believe that we were, or could be, like others. Those who did not live every day, praying that tomorrow would be different than today. When we lay our head down to sleep, we wished to wake tomorrow as another person, as if we were trapped in a waking nightmare, or pass into nothingness. The prospect of enduring another conscious period trapped in the quagmire called life; This Shakesperean tragedy that keeps repeating, only to worsen with every passing moment is overwhelming. When we realize our ultimate fear, the thing we repress and deny in order to survive, we run to the last choice we all have in our control.
In our system, the name we have given the collective of shards that occupy our physical form, the truth is clear to us, as it always has been. We are the ultimate in horror and pain. We are the emotional reaper. We are the penultimate weapon against happiness and joy. We are everything we have been taught to be. The cause of your problems, the generator of misery and pain. Yes, we always have known these things. We are the death of joy, and the black hole for happiness. We feed on the joy of others, much like a parasite that cannot generate eh required building clocks to sustain its own life. We are an emotional vampire.
Existing in this life knowing what you are is impossible, so we throw all of this pain and wretchedness into our cauldron. Where we send all things we have to deny in order to trudge through another conscious period of existence. We lie, to ourselves. The only way to sustain the most basic, what can be defined technically as life. We know inside all these things to be true. As much as it pains us, we can see the wake of tears, pain and sometimes good, we leave. We desire nothing more than to be the mirror opposite of what we are and have become. We persist to strive towards the light, the life we see others living, to no avail. To this end we are damned.
They say to envy is a sin, whatever that is. We do not envy things that most would say are worthy. We are not noble, or seeking enlightenment, or even to save our souls from an eternity of torture, we are already there. We envy things like, caring, love, gentleness for no reason, kindness, and the silence of the ocean. We want to feel wanted, to experience desire without obligation, or even just a brief moment in time without fear. We envy that the most, how someone can live without feeling fear in perpetuity. As Paul Arteries most profoundly stated, “Fear is the mind killer.”
So, now that we are at a point in our existence, somewhere between emergence and return, we realize that there is no real significance to any of it. Age is merely an artificial measurement. Something we do, trying to give relevance to our coming demise, the most natural thing in our lives, is death. Death gives life meaning? Is there any real meaning to the time we have until we all meet nothingness? The truth may astonish you. The only real power that any of us have in life, is death. As we now realize that our death will be just as insignificant as the death of any other life form. Death os only relevant to those that are dying. Once the body dies, those that are left continue to live. Most want to believe that their life is important to others, as this makes them feel loved, significant, more than just another molecule if dust, in a somewhat endless universe. However I , we, us, have realized that the most useful thing we can contribute to the society we cohabitant in, is our own demise. The way we could make the most people happy, is not to try and better ourselves, or do good deeds. No, people just want us to not exist anymore. We are like herpes, nobody cares when your not there. When you pop in, all they can think of is how to make you leave. We were not the guy picked last in kickball. We were simply asked not to play.
Now here we are with a body that is well into post mid-life, battered and worn. Scars, both physical and otherwise, to match the self-image we see ourselves to be. We examine the timeline of our existence, analyzing the carnage that somehow, despite our deepest desires, we have been responsible for. How is that something so insignificant, so small in the grand scale, could inflict so much horror and pain on the world. many parts of us become angry at the others, as we do not understand. We desire only to love, and do not even require love in return. However we continue to suck the life out of everyone around us. From our youngest memories to modern times, we are the bringer of sorrow and pain. We are the beast. If there were ever an evil, we feel we are the incarnate.
Are we a bad seed? Is there such a thing? Are we just a product of our environment? The real question: What does any of that matter? Just as the death row inmate must live very day knowing his fate is already chosen, we do not have that luxury. Our fate is nothing more than an accumulation of guilt and shame of the parasitic personality that we are. We feel we are forced into a most destructive existence, a horror movie where we are the evil. We move from scene to scene, movie to movie, unwillingly feeding on the joy of those around us. Seeking only to nurture, we somehow find ourselves again causing pain and misery. Wishing to end this existence is not an escape. We cannot escape what we are. We cannot run from that which forces us to feel fear every second of every day. The part of us that still wants to believe we are good, pushes forward through time. Struggling more as every day passes, the weight of our past growing exponentially. We are torn between what we know we are and what we feel we can be.