Sunday Morning Thoughts 7.1.12

And so it has come to this, yet again. Profound inquires are to be left at the door please and huddle the masses on the hill to see and listen. Read aloud some sort of love letter inscribed on the inside of a book that boldly proclaims that it hold nothing but beautiful lies. Toss the dirt on the casket and mumble something to yourself reassuring the mind that you did all you could. It doesn’t seem like enough though, does it? No, it never ever really does.

I hope I don’t seem morbid, as I am trying very hard to do you the courtesy of at least disguising it well. You can tell me how I did at the end.

I struggle too much to understand things that I know have been going on. Cynicism consumes innocence like nothing else.

All things must come to an end and here it is and here I am. There’s a haze and a daze and if there was anything at all that I could have done it should have been done ages ago, when we were younger and I was less jaded in the real sense. I was only pretending then. Alas, it wasn’t meant and it couldn’t have been set up more perfectly to go hand and hand to guide the creation of a mad man.

 

You have to understand, that I am rapidly approaching my last year of playtime. Even within all this time, games have been ending to make way for jobs that need to be done. It is enraging and infuriating and just the way things seem to be. One more year and you could hear from me yet.

I would ask about the view but I don’t care to know. I would ask about anything but I’ll just find those, whadda ya call em? Answers? No that’s not it. Solutions? No that’s even further off. Tourniquet? Yes, I believe that’s what it is. Life is a wound that bleeds unless you make it stop, although it may cost you an arm. Regardless of what you call them, I will find them and it shall have to be on my own.

 

I want to go ahead and say that it won’t always be on my own but it will. All things that live will die and they will do it by themselves. Any thoughts you can produce at the credits will be yours and yours alone.

 

They will be mine and mine alone no matter how much I fancy the idea of having it done otherwise. It’s just not practical.

 

There are believers in gods and deities and fates and destinies. I couldn’t tell you if any of those things are or are not but if I had to place a bet, I’d go with the latter. There is comfort in them, I know. I spent most of my life believing those things. When I was learning so many of the things I know now, I thought there was a friendly and vengeful old man in the sky. I remember that I used to pray a lot.

 

Surprisingly, most of the time it was for unselfish things as was the case when I would pray that people in my family would stop aggressively and destructively arguing over stupid things. I would also ask god to help me with girls, which is dumb on many levels. Baby faced and wide eyed, I used to believe that happiness was something that would be had. My understanding of the thing now is that the only time I feel I will really need such a terrible thing as happiness is at death. Any bouts of that business before then are doomed to only be sadness. Even the love of your life will die someday but if I stay on schedule, I would never hear about it.

 

So if it is not happiness that makes me be and sends me forward, what the hell do I live for? Why should I feel that I need to do anything, let alone my dreamt up ambitions for changing the world? Well I don’t know why, but I’ll be damned if that’s going to stop me from telling you something anyway.

 

As of now, I strive for control as all conscious things do. I want dominion over my reality to have it sculpted to what my idea of good is. That will fade though and it only does because the control has been had this whole time. Reality is nothing but impulses and chemicals and electricity with some sort of melody and harmony about them. We are nothing but mold growing on rocks. Sophisticated moss, if you will.

 

Does that make our lives less beautiful? Of course it doesn’t, don’t be an idiot.

 

The simplicity is the beauty. I am a simple thing. I like colors and food and feeling comfortable and nice. I’d like to feel loved and I do in some ways. There are smells that please me and sounds that do the same. I have pictures in my head about things that I thought happened and most of them are grand. They’re all grand actually but I get testy and complicated about some. There are flaws in my design as it is still in the test mode.

 

Mistakes will be made and if you manage to get involved with me, I will cause some sort of ruckus in your life. It all depends on how close you choose to get. I am some sort of man which means I will crave things like feast and flesh. I don’t imagine I can go further than flesh for some time, which is funny if you knew me when I was a virgin. At first, I thought I’d wait out the long haul. Those were in my silly praying days. It has since come to something much more sinister, in a sort of sad way. Don’t try to get close and figure it out, I don’t imagine that you’ll like what you see.

I always used to write about how I stood on the ledge and was looking down at the fall. As of this very moment, I’ve come to realize that I have already made the fall and whether I jumped or was pushed is no longer important. I have the time in between where I am and the ground to learn how to fly or something of that sort. This will be another one of those things that will have to be done without much help. Without any, really.

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