Death is sometimes an awkward child who steps into ants without considering the effects of her little steps. It is such a funny feeling, to talk about death. One final step we all must take one day. But we don’t know when. But death is not what matters, but live. What about the living people that gather themselves around a coffin? Sure death does not think of what they feel. But what do they feel?
It is complicated, as with all human emotions. We are so bloody complex, that I just sometimes get tired of all humanity. I don’t give a damn about anyone, not even myself. I’m afraid I’m going through one of those stages. I’m just tired, my head aches because of the dense mass of people that go around me everyday. I think I need to rest. And to sleep, and to faint, and to disappear. Commit the ultimate rebellion, be nothing to no one. Not an easy think, as you are forced to interact with other human beings everyday.
And I realize I am lost. I don’t know where to go, where to hide, how to think, how to act. I sometimes think I know who I am, others I just don’t give a rat’s ass. I’m lost, I’m stressed, I just care about one person in the world, and that seems is going down the drain as well. And I don’t know what to do to save the relationship. I don’t know what to do to save myself. I wish I could just disappear and feint. But I can’t. We may call it teenage angst, we may call it identity crisis. I just call it life. Cause this is the life I know. A complex knot I may never be able to untie.
I think I am happy with my major, but I also know that my greatest passion is writing. No one ever said I couldn’t do both, but I doubt that sometimes. Maybe I should take six months and finish a book about angst. A book about life and death. A book about Mia and the Universal Conscience. That universal conscience that tells us that we are nothing but disposable stardust, that have but one chance to shine, and then dim in oblivion. Even if your name lasts forever in the collective mind of this world, when you are through with your life, you are done. Jesus doesn’t care if you pray at night, he’s dead. We will be dead, and no one will ever know about us. We are doomed to be alone, we are alone. We have but one life, and one life alone. So we can do with it whatever we want; there are no consequences. No mana dew in Heaven or fire and brimstone in Hell. Just plain darkness and oblivion. Maybe this is what they call the unbearable lightness of being. But is actually not unbearable. It is depressing, yet encouraging. Because if you have nothing to lose, then you can risk everything.
It is Maya. The universal illusion that covers this world like a veil. And we are all a part of it. We are all just and illusion. We are an entire universe, and we are just one small atom at the same time. We can be everything when we are nothing. A beautiful paradox if you ask me. And we thrive and sacrifice for what? For a simple retribution of material joy given not to last more than a century or two? Those are all disposable prizes. Maybe the only true and precious satisfaction in this world, is the satisfaction of living a life that is remarkable, that is true to whatever your ideals in live are. So, for a true Catholic, living a Catholic life is the only reward. But they expect their prize in heaven, when they get it on Earth while they live. Don’t wait for death to realize that life is the gift, the test, the reward. And it doesn’t matter what you believe in, it doesn’t even matter if you don’t believe in a single thing, as long as you spend your life not believing. Just be true to yourself, and then your life will have a meaning. Not to the world, but to you. And that’s the only thing that should care. Cause you are on a one person voyage through life. You were born alone, you’ll die alone. You get this time, none before, none after. And if you defiantly don’t like it, and you are sure nothing will ever change, you can always abort the trip. You won’t be charged extra, or will be punished in anyway. As long as you believe, it will be true. Cause for you, nothing will ever change, and if things change, you won’t be here to see them, so why do you care?
That’s the universal conscience that keeps Mia alive, and that keeps me alive. That makes the days be worth something when everything else falls apart, just like today.
And what can I say about today? Well, a relationship that can be great and beautiful is too often haunted by storms over still water. And those storms seem to be about to sink the ship. And That’s not good my friends, oh no! Here is the mother problem, we are great together, we have a lot in common, but we are polar contraries in other vital aspects. So as every opposite, we attract, but we have issues because of that. Because we don’t complete each other, we do not share each other. Each of us hangs in an extreme opposite, waiting for the other to come. But when we try, we can only get half way there, cause we will not change. So we argue, so we get sad, so we cry, and it is not healthy or good. But I have never been the healthy or good kind of guy. And I have always been and always be the helpless dreamer and optimist that think everything can be done. When not everything can be done. So I’ll fight for this relationship, till the ship is torn apart by the storms or until the sun shines. But maybe, if you see the dark clouds will be forevermore, then maybe it is good to yell abandon ship. And even if I absolutely and completely love and adore this girl, something are not meant to be. And if we become miserable, we will get into a vicious circle, when Misery loves company, but when you are in company you want more and more, until you find yourself surrounded by a crowd or a person that it is actually hell. Cause sometimes hell is others. And yes, I’m using Emilie Autumn’s words. So what! I like her music. If my ex girlfriend tried too hard to become her, oh well, it is her life. But I still like her words, and I still do rip them once in a while.
So, what should a poor sailor do? Sail this ship till there are just the splinters of the ship, and the sailor becomes a castaway? And then he finds and island and for twenty years goes into isolation maybe to never return. Why not? Something I’m tempted to do someday is to voluntarily go into a psychiatric ward. Just retire myself from the world. A holiday from life.
One day maybe.
