Diary of Stuff (Volume I)
Errggggg, some days I feel like Elric in that portrait I
put up as myself... Half lidded eyes within a face of
sullen annoyance...with a hint of sneer there..... I get
disgusted with life oftentimes, where events can pass you
by without even a second glance. Whether you choose to
participate or not, is totally up to you. Where your
existence, your individuality, really does not matter in
the end. Time is a cold-hearted mistress, as cold as the
frostiest mountains in the most desolate of locales. I get
tired of acting like life is okay, fun, and exciting...when
I know deep down inside that it sucks, that we are here
only to be irresponsible idiots, playing the game of life,
taking and choosing. Ahhhhh, but going inward, you can
discover your joys, and act them out fulfillingly, but be
damned about your purpose on this earth, or in the great
scheme of things....your evolution was nothing more than a
chancy miracle, your mind another great miracle, choosing
to divest into philosophy and art, religion and
spiritualism, kindness or vengeance. I am not happy, I
mock my own existence... I am bitter, I am cynical...
Where once I had great pleasure in creating, I experience
greater pleasure in destroying... Unlike the plants and
trees that help the living earth breathe, unlike the forest
animals who only attack to defend their young, we mar the
earth for our own selfish ends. It is not enough that we
simply ARE, but we have to be antagonists to the natural
state of everything around us. Hostile, evil, animalistic,
we must destroy to satisfy our own selfish needs...
Only by opening our hearts will we be able to see the
fallacy of our existence, and try to live more responsibly,
more sanely, more quiescently.
This is what I think, anyways....