Looking through the glass

For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known...

The self destructive man

A self-destructive man feels completely alienated, utterly alone. He's an outsider to the human community. He thinks to himself, "I must be insane." What he fails to realize is that society has, just as he does, a vested interest in considerable losses and catastrophes. These wars, famines, floods and quakes meet well-defined needs.

Man wants chaos. In fact, he's gotta have it.

Depression, strife, riots, murder, all this dread. We're irresistibly drawn to that almost orgiastic state created out of death and destruction. It's in all of us. We revel in it. Sure, the media tries to put a sad face on these things, painting them up as great human tragedies. But we all know the function of the media has never been to eliminate the evils of the world, no. Their job is to persuade us to accept those evils and get used to living with them. The powers that be want us to be passive observers. And they haven't given us any other options outside the occasional, purely symbolic, participatory act of voting. You want the puppet on the right or the puppet on the left? I feel that the time has come to project my own inadequacies and dissatisfactions into the sociopolitical and scientific schemes, let my own lack of a voice be heard.


You got a match? Watch me as I light myself on fire.

Pieces of paper

In the end, all i have is paper.

I watch as pieces of it come down from a big black machine, with a glowing green monitor and buttons.

The dull mechanical wirr and the prompt clicks as it opens a small trap door. I wonder if I stuck my hand in a little bit longer, would the machine panic? would it be amused and wait patiently, or would it be irritated and snap my hand off.

The door waited.. but it was impatient because it was beeping.

I got the bills that I needed and the door shut quickly. I had violated it. An act of defiance. I smiled to myself.

Crisp. I can feel it. This. Tangible. I never had a lot of this, I should be happy, right? I worked for this. I worked really hard for this. And in a little while, all of this will be out of my hands and won't be mine anymore.

Pieces of paper in exchange for company I lost, the moments i can never have again. All for this.

In the end all i have are pieces of paper, and none to share them with.

What for?

On being left behind.

It's quite hard to convince somebody that I understand what they're going through..

But I do. I do understand how it feels like to be really small, and as insignificant as humanly possible. Those deep, echoing, piercing aches in places that you didn't know you had inside you.

No matter how many places you've gone to, or how many bottles you've drank, or friends and new people you see; you still go to bed every night going through every detail wondering what you did wrong, or what you have misunderstood.


----

We fall in love with the wrong people because we are always hoping we are wrong. And every time he/she does something that tells us he's no good, we ignore it. And every time he/she comes through and suprises us, he/she wins us over, and thats the moment we lose that argument with ourselves, that he/she's not for you.

pleading..

I force myself once again through another day, trying to figure out what why today just fell apart like my life in front of me.

All the sacrifices are good for nothing. I want to show that i can be good for something.. But I can't because you won't let me. All my faith is gone and I couldnt find it.

Just like what you say. "I dont want you"

I dont like today. Please take it away. I cant keep my hands steady anymore. I know im going further than what I have gone already but Im still pushing some more. I still push some more.

another sleepless night. but i'll live through this. I have to.

The reason we say goodnight

"Hello darkness, my old friend." I greeted the cold gray walls that surround me. I have closed the door, and hung the key on the rusty nail beside the door knob.

I walked further, feeling the room getting colder and more familiar. the light from the distant light post was dim, and the dark would'nt share its space. My hands glided across the grooves of the smooth walls, a bit of dry earth crumbling at my touch. There is a slight chill in the air as i move closer to the corner.

"It has been a while", the cold air whispered. I felt the brush of her icy lips on my cheek.

I closed my eyes and realized, I am back home.

The reason why we say goodnight before we sleep is a mutual admittance. A surrender that we will be alone in the next few seconds just before we shut our eyes. Nobody can come with us to where we are going.

I sit down and held my legs together. I begin to sob.

Here it comes all over again.. here it comes all over again.. here it comes all over again..

i lost it.