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Mar. 4th, 2014 04:34 pmSlowly I am ground to dust in the gears of this giant machine man has made to run the world.
I feel more heartless as time goes on. How could I feel pity for others, when so much suffering is produced at the hands of all of us? Even if I were to be self-righteous and proclaim that I am not adding on, certainly I have, certainly I will. It is an inevitability of life in a closed system. It is particularly unavoidable when resources are spread so thin among so few, that we essentially fight one-another, step on one-another, and use one-another, to obtain whatever we can - even if it is the bare minimum necessary for survival. I make decent wages - but the rat race is destroying me. The commute in and out of work is nearly enough in and of itself to drive me mad, let alone the eight and a half hours I must spend lest I be reprimanded or terminated.
It's driving me mad. Completely and utterly mad. How is it that so many people tolerate this, day in, day out, for a lifetime, without completely losing their sanity? Is my mind wired so differently than theirs? Am I even a man? Am I a beast, or a God, instead, as Socrates said of the misanthrope? Is my mental state faulty, or wrong - is it wrong to feel the way I do? Is it wrong to feel as though it's completely intolerable to work day in, day out, for a living wage, for the rest of my life, with so little time in truth outside of work itself and recovery? How could I possibly find a life mate, when I am so drained and barren - how could I possibly have a rich and vibrant social life? And it has never been any different - school felt the same way, made me feel the same way, and I was just as incapable in those days as I am today. If I improve my energy levels, it seems as though the trials and tribulations simply turn up the volume. Whatever level of health, well being and fitness I achieve, it seems that there is always a new wall appearing to be climbed, more difficult than the last. Will my only solace be in the final release of death? Is that the only goal here?
In my end of day reverie, I sat idly in my chair at work waiting for the clock to strike 3:30. My mind drifted to a different time as my heart rate slowed, my world went to a crawl, and my physical senses dulled. There she was again - Cookie. All I could remember is how powerful our feelings were for each other, how strong that love was, and how frighteningly easy it was to be taken away from me. Nothing in this world lasts, not even me. What a hopeless realization, and yet still, there is the intense desire and longing for that feeling again, even though I recognize the futility of it, even though I recognize no human being can truly be trusted because I can never know their true form until they show it.
I feel at times as though I live in some sort of twisted reality, ruled by a mad demon, controlling everything I experience, punishing every good deed, and making sure that if I am to receive anything, that I become fully attached before it is ripped away.
I feel more heartless as time goes on. How could I feel pity for others, when so much suffering is produced at the hands of all of us? Even if I were to be self-righteous and proclaim that I am not adding on, certainly I have, certainly I will. It is an inevitability of life in a closed system. It is particularly unavoidable when resources are spread so thin among so few, that we essentially fight one-another, step on one-another, and use one-another, to obtain whatever we can - even if it is the bare minimum necessary for survival. I make decent wages - but the rat race is destroying me. The commute in and out of work is nearly enough in and of itself to drive me mad, let alone the eight and a half hours I must spend lest I be reprimanded or terminated.
It's driving me mad. Completely and utterly mad. How is it that so many people tolerate this, day in, day out, for a lifetime, without completely losing their sanity? Is my mind wired so differently than theirs? Am I even a man? Am I a beast, or a God, instead, as Socrates said of the misanthrope? Is my mental state faulty, or wrong - is it wrong to feel the way I do? Is it wrong to feel as though it's completely intolerable to work day in, day out, for a living wage, for the rest of my life, with so little time in truth outside of work itself and recovery? How could I possibly find a life mate, when I am so drained and barren - how could I possibly have a rich and vibrant social life? And it has never been any different - school felt the same way, made me feel the same way, and I was just as incapable in those days as I am today. If I improve my energy levels, it seems as though the trials and tribulations simply turn up the volume. Whatever level of health, well being and fitness I achieve, it seems that there is always a new wall appearing to be climbed, more difficult than the last. Will my only solace be in the final release of death? Is that the only goal here?
In my end of day reverie, I sat idly in my chair at work waiting for the clock to strike 3:30. My mind drifted to a different time as my heart rate slowed, my world went to a crawl, and my physical senses dulled. There she was again - Cookie. All I could remember is how powerful our feelings were for each other, how strong that love was, and how frighteningly easy it was to be taken away from me. Nothing in this world lasts, not even me. What a hopeless realization, and yet still, there is the intense desire and longing for that feeling again, even though I recognize the futility of it, even though I recognize no human being can truly be trusted because I can never know their true form until they show it.
I feel at times as though I live in some sort of twisted reality, ruled by a mad demon, controlling everything I experience, punishing every good deed, and making sure that if I am to receive anything, that I become fully attached before it is ripped away.
