No
love to call your OWN, No life to really feel...Every being to use all those
around them, solely to enhance the so called quality of that
"existence".
It
was always too easy to denounce those statements as callous and untrue. But,
but but-
Those
who feel AND think rather than those who either feel or think know the
terrible, sickening truth. When I was but a boy, maybe ten years old, I used to
wish that I was a dog, or a cat, or any animal but the one I am. Something that
just lived its life to survive with nary a thought to why or how. And here I
am, again. What is wisdom, that I still completely want that oblivious
existence? What is knowledge, that
I
find that I knew it all, when I was but ten years old?
Enough
could be enough, except for the optimistic dream that there still can be found
a meaning, a reason, a PURPOSE. Doubter that I am, I feel that there never will
be found one, that there is none. I always went through these motions, of
doubt, of self-pity, of hate, of sorrow, of death of soul and heart; but always
there went an angel of creation, who followed my thoughts and gave me happiness
in that I was only
one step away from the god/dream/fantasy that is
Truth. I always gave the appearance of
despondency, of the despair of utter failure- and now, as i sit here, I Feel
it, for maybe the first complete time, I understand the futility of the search
for truth and know that to take my own life would be the only dignity I could
afford myself, even though no one would ever understand, ending it all for this
"life" simply because I do not allow myself the clouding of my soul,
do not allow myself to wallow in the hypocrisy in order to survive.
And
still, I will not die.
Therefore,
I am THE Hypocrite of hypocrites, the damned of the damned...
God, if you truly exist,
then truly you are a spiteful old goat of a deity, for your evil
"Hope" will not let me quit, will not let me quit... And, I
persevere, for nothing? for everything-
I can only 'hope' that in the end I will understand
1992
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