As far away as the night sky, emptier than the darkness above and cold like the distant stars, I sit here. With a mind on empty the urge for words comes forth. But for what words there are in any given language, none are mine to give only to see. All the dreams I have never had are not enough to fill this page of no end, there are no ends to a mean or means to an end when everything is a beginning.
I am no ideal and I have none in my possesion. Existance is the cause, but what is the cause of existance? Fortitude in solitude, a false impression. Meager in a minds eye where vision is unlimited beyond conception, perception, nothing left to quantify. Dreams a poemic promise of lies for a better life, take the life by living the dream. We build our walls to hide our mask strings so none may see the fragility behind the illusion that we have self.
Are there any more self made men, self made women, in the world anymore? The only pioneers we seem to have are name brand products. Champions too. Everything is a mental sport, the compition for progress messured in things the eye can no longer see and hands can not hold.
Spinning adrift the mass of humanity, my own presence a solid testament of unforgiving lack of care or concern. I do not buy into your concepts, your preconceived notions. I will not settle for your ideals when I have my own. I see you choke on yourselves and as your reality turns blue, I wonder why you don't see a better way. All you do with yourselves is only what has been done before. If there is nothing more new under the sun, why not dare to find a new one?
"you look like an angel.....you're the devil in disguise"
I met a man at the mall. Nice enough, presentable sort of chap. I could feel his intrest as I rolled my smoke. He asked for the time, I allowed him to light my cigarette. As he stood and talked, I for once did not ponder the reasons behind why. I did not ask myself what he might have seen, what he might have thought. I did not tell him that his prefferences were not mine, for him to construe as a dismissal. I let the moment be, allowed myself the opportunity to enjoy the company of a stranger. And the moment became lost is the same old song and dance I see so many others cavorting to began it's beat. Conversation turned and broke the glory as his own need for acceptance of himself by another led to exagerations and the need to make the connection with another person, instead of simply waiting for one to become on it's own. As the time passed, I held the mein of the brief moment lost upon my visiage, so that he would not notice that for him I felt sorrow.
My own need is such that in the face of anothers, it fades away. I do not want a mirror of myself, the glass is far too fragile and people break too easily when one understands the flaws. I do not need another for my own validations and nor will I be anothers validation of self. Myself in another person I would hate for I know it all to well. In the fine lines of everything and nothing I settle for no one instead. Take me for who I am, for I cannot take myself much longer when I'm loosing who I am.
The age of imagination is being lost to our young. As a child, I remember that lego's came in sets like they do today, but they also came in buckets of pieces with no instructions, no pre-made parts. And the sets of yester-year, the prefabricated pieces were both simpler and more complex. One set could build 3 or 4 different things, combinations of sets could produce things beyond either. Like the difference between buying a professional grade model kit with a million pieces and a premade, prepainted snap together model, it's becoming simpler to merely accept, to follow the form. I'm not saying that the individual has no capacity for taking that beyond the limitations and making something unique out of it, but the vision of _possibility_ is no longer as pronounced as it once was.
I often wonder why it is I even bother stepping outside of my door these days. Perhaps some instinct for survival that knows beyond meaning that never stepping outside of ones self is merely a death of the slowest and worst sort. But all I see does nothing more than re-affirm what already is. And I find myself wondering if that vision is true. Am I as open and searching for the answer as I think I am, or have I already fallen into the pit of fallacy, yet another layering of self-justification? Can I let myself go, dare to loose control, or will I merely retreat again preffering not to be wounded by the mistakes of others?
For the first time, I've actively participated in getting things for my daughter for the christmas holiday. Not because I believe in the holiday, but because I care to see the joy, enthusiasm and utter abandon of glee as the presents wrapped with care have thier mysteries revealed. At this moment, it's the only thing I have to be alive for. Could I do more? Could I strain myself into a more socially acceptable mold? Perhaps. I could do the 9 to 5 daily grind like everyone else, earn a paltry pension, piss away life and self on other peoples emergencies and problems for the sake of a socially acceptable illusion of responsiblity. And yet, doing so would mean nothing, not in the personal sense. In the personal sense, it's more important to simply BE. No matter what. Do what can be done when it can be, to always do ones best independant of circumstance.
But it still hurts. Feeling like I should be doing more and having nothing more to give. Wondering if my own perceptions of society are another illusion of justification, unerring in thier inaccuracy. Wanting something more, wanting a better way and having no power to bring it about. To see the dream unfold in anything more than in my own mind. Not just for myself or those close to me, but for everybody. To see if the race called human can become something better if given the chance. And wondering if that chance will ever come about if the race it left to it's own devices.
For all my hope the still, small voice keeps telling me it won't.
Images: "Eulogy"(top) and "Natural High"(bottom right) excerpted from the image
Spikes Mirror done by JaxRaven.
"Casting Shadows"(bottom left) found on Google,
no copyrights or permission requirements listed.
Design & Layout done by me. all rights wronged, all lefts copied, all reserves purged, all marks traded.
