I want it back, this thing given away. A toll has been paid, my entire being, the price. If I’m wrong then prove it. Show me how to see. Take these eyes and make them yours. Remove from me the thought process of death. I’m mortal, as frail now as the day I first tasted oxygen. You are as well. Death shall be along soon enough.
How do I learn to live as if tomorrow doesn’t exist, when it remains my worst fear? A man with nothing who marks his worth in the same category, yet what is to gain in a world where all is dust. Existentialism at it’s finest as I write words disassociated from your current climate. For if it doesn’t matter, and if in a hundred years I’m as unknown as the nameless John Does that fertilize our future crops… well then guess what? A dream has died before it was conceived and the doctor performing surgery is as drunk as I.
There was a moment, where all the beauty of the whole wide world coalesced upon me. It took my breath as well as my fear away. For a momentary drip in the vast ocean of infinity… I mattered. I created fire and ice. I let it flow from me as if I were the fountain of youth itself. Darkness was enveloped in an ocean of clarity and the demons that lay in wait ran for the darkest corners of my universe. Dreams held enough weight to break the thickest cable and shatter the largest scale.
There are no words in the history of human civilization, that could ever properly describe the ending of this petty written excuse for a reason to breathe. So I won’t even bother to try. I will in closing only offer this…