My friend Jack wrote a passage recently that reminded me of how trapped I feel inside my own head. To reconcile with the difficulty I am having writing tonight, I figured I'd post something relevant to his thoughts. I wrote this passage a little over a month ago...
There is something inside of me that wants out. There is a part of me that wants to break free from this prison and celebrate in freedom. I have a part to play in this ensemble of chaos, yet it is lost on me. I do not know what I am supposed to do. I only know that my being is exceptional in every way, shape and form. It is a brief opportunity to revel in this ambiance any way I see fit. It exists for reasons greater than I know. If this were not the case, it should not exist at all. There must be purpose to this flesh, this blood, this ego. For if this coalition were purposeless there would be no significance for its existence. And what are these things if not significant? The division of taste, touch, smell, vision, hearing. Our perceptions, tied with our experiences, exhaust everything that constitutes our lives. Thus, every instant, nay, every existent is significant in this marvelous dream of ineffability. All things, holding significance, must have purpose. For what is significant holds purpose, and what lacks purpose has significance none.
I am a paradox because these are the things that matter most to me, yet I fail to communicate and live by my own values. My life is a poem with a blank slate.
2 comments:
I like your writings, putting up a link to u now. Hope u don't mind. Have a good day and keep writing!
breaking away from our very structured lives and simply living is absoultely terrifying.
if i wasn't so afraid, i would drop out of school and find something i really want to do. for now, though, i will remain chained to my inhibitions...
what would you do differently, if there was nothing to be afraid of or nothing holding you back?
isn't that all that matters?
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