Neglect!
How far can I neglect myself before something breaks? Even my blogging has even fallen by the wayside let alone any self care I may possess.
Obsessions are dragging me into a deeper mire of isolation, thitherto unseen for many a month. I am almost glad of this solitude that on the surface is not really solitude but mere wishful thinking. I am by no means alone. I have my father living with me! Arghh! I can only dream of a time when I can be alone. Totally alone! Desire is where my heart grows fonder. It is a ways off though, I am not that lucky to have solitude for extended periods. Perhaps it is a good thing, however it certainly does not feel like it is such a good thing. Time is not mine anymore. I am in servitude to the clock as it beats its incessant rhythm. Seemingly the Tick. Tick. Tick. is alerting me to some impending doom. That the tick tick tick will end. What have I accomplished? Indeed I have wasted the drum roll of time, thinking it a prelude to something more, a grand entrance to a time where I can introduce myself as something extraordinary.
Its absurd! A lie! The time is now! No grand entrances. Just this moment. Sitting here in front of you. Thinking out loud. Grasping. Faint glimpses of reality in fragemented and disjointed perspectives. Wanting. Wanting More! More of what though? I have everything. That isn't true but I'll tell you what I want. I want to know everything. I want the answers to it all. I want to know why? What I really want is to have some insight into why I am here. really! what is the purpose of me living and breathing, wasting, consuming, sitting here writing nonsense. Why are any of us here? Are we just vessels for a gene pool that will invariably become extinct? or are we here for some definitive purpose? Or am I just a superfluous entity that came into existence just because I could, in much the same way as moutaineers climb mountains, because they are there. Maybe we are just puppets to the deities above and below, servants to the lords of light and dark. Maybe we don't even exist at all. Maybe we are but a dream.
Looping again. The wheels on the bus go round and round.
Obsessions are dragging me into a deeper mire of isolation, thitherto unseen for many a month. I am almost glad of this solitude that on the surface is not really solitude but mere wishful thinking. I am by no means alone. I have my father living with me! Arghh! I can only dream of a time when I can be alone. Totally alone! Desire is where my heart grows fonder. It is a ways off though, I am not that lucky to have solitude for extended periods. Perhaps it is a good thing, however it certainly does not feel like it is such a good thing. Time is not mine anymore. I am in servitude to the clock as it beats its incessant rhythm. Seemingly the Tick. Tick. Tick. is alerting me to some impending doom. That the tick tick tick will end. What have I accomplished? Indeed I have wasted the drum roll of time, thinking it a prelude to something more, a grand entrance to a time where I can introduce myself as something extraordinary.
Its absurd! A lie! The time is now! No grand entrances. Just this moment. Sitting here in front of you. Thinking out loud. Grasping. Faint glimpses of reality in fragemented and disjointed perspectives. Wanting. Wanting More! More of what though? I have everything. That isn't true but I'll tell you what I want. I want to know everything. I want the answers to it all. I want to know why? What I really want is to have some insight into why I am here. really! what is the purpose of me living and breathing, wasting, consuming, sitting here writing nonsense. Why are any of us here? Are we just vessels for a gene pool that will invariably become extinct? or are we here for some definitive purpose? Or am I just a superfluous entity that came into existence just because I could, in much the same way as moutaineers climb mountains, because they are there. Maybe we are just puppets to the deities above and below, servants to the lords of light and dark. Maybe we don't even exist at all. Maybe we are but a dream.
Looping again. The wheels on the bus go round and round.
posted by TwistedTripper at 10:50 PM
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