Posts tagged purpose
Probing my psyche into a state of continual deprivation of self.
3I, sometimes–though it may seem dangerous–wonder into a state of which I travel so deep into my mind I forget I’m only in my mind, and that is now of which I am. When I am there, I find myself fascinated on which I see, smell, touch, feel. All those things I do, and I know I do, but the world could not explain how or why, because the world knows little of the mind of man. And in so, It makes it possible for some of us who are able, and willing, to delve so deep into our psyche that upon returning, this world seems bland and full of lifelessness, death, and limits.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I could have stayed in the place on which my mind conceived as the truth, when it was nothing but a mere fabrication of my own will. And that scares me. That I wish not to leave that world to enter the real one. Is it so possible to dream of such things to replace truth, to bend the vert rules of space and time in our own mind. Make our own universe? Yes.
And I think I know why. We want to be like God, we want to create, change, and enjoy what we make. And what more free of a place then our free-will enpowered mind? I think he did that on purpose. In our body, we have limits. Many limits.
But in the mind, wow, in the mind the end is endless, the unbreakable is breakable, the right is wrong, left is right. Whatever we choose to fathom. With no-one to blame, thank, or enjoy it but ourselves. Now, it is possible to break some barriers and make a bridge between that universe and this. And that is with The Arts. But that, sadly, is still at limits.
But still, back to the matter hand on which I began to speak of, I sometimes scare myself, and all that is in me, that sometimes what I see isnt fiction, but only reality without it’s masks. And that isn’t a good thing. This world is very dark, and only 1/3 of it is seen with the naked eye. But to know that what I see, what horrible, terrible things I have been beset upon me in my restless night’s dreams and visions are real?
That is something is shakes me to the core.
Fallen
1Am I fallen, or am I falling?
Am I forsaken, or am I forsaking?
Am I unique, or am I losing it?
I ask you, all of this.
And what do I get?
Why am I here?
Why did you make me like this?
Is it for a cause?
Is it for a purpose?
Why give me this, and not give me the instructions.
Why make me like this, but not make it easy.
Would that make it too easy?
Would that make it too open?
If so, than what am I supposed to do?
Sit here alone?
Go out a fight?
Help the wounded?
Or just keep on asking why?
Oh, why, why?
Why would you leave me here?
Oh, why, why?
Why wont you answer me here?
Oh, why, why?
Why wont you tell me?
Oh, why, why?
Why do you keep trying to break me?
All I want, all I ask, is a little help
But all I get, all I hear, is a little hurt.
Why? Why make it like this?
Are you this cruel?
Or is there a point?
Can’t you just nod, or make some sign?
Oh, why, why?
Why wont you answer me?
Oh, why, why?
Why wont you comfort me?
Oh, why, why?
Why would you give me this?
Oh, why, why?
What can I do with it?
But sit here alone, staring up at you.
Asking you these worthless questions.
I guess I’ll never know, but it was worth a try.
Until the next I cry, This is goodbye.