The plight of realizing.

What is this life that human beings take for granted?
Mexican-Skeletons-Dancing

I feel distraught at being Here, understanding as little as I do about the workings of this human world, and questioning whether it is our destiny to inherit the keys to these things we call bodies. Death is the lingering concept on the other side of the coin, but into what slot does this coin fit? The whole of me is this coin, and the bottomless pit is where I land, a sea the more barren the deeper it gets. Or is that the illusion that we perceive? That there is even a direction to go, up or down and left or right, but is there a single fact that is right? I have trouble dealing with life’s anonymities and anomalies, and it is the endless waiting that kills us all, not some two-bit car crash or the details in an autopsy afterwards. Fondling ourselves in endless anticipation of a brilliant light that shields us from harm, we take our lives in our hands and hope that no one chops them off for stealing, but with laws being what they are most of us have a tough time of keeping them attached. I figure that if you wait it out long enough, you won’t even realize that you are dead, and before you know it the energy that was you is in a whole new form. Taking part in the miracle of life and death, being able to interact with the more solid substance here, but the ideals of titans we have outgrown. Youth is havoc to the old making their way to the grave, but everlasting is the energy of this spiraling mass of germs, a sombre mood to keep the greedy away from our patterns. Whether they be material worth, or of some “lesser” value, still the energy never goes away but instead leaves behind the shell. Corpses are so beautiful in their lack of movement, forever still life yet still residing in death, but what is the torment of the day? Now we move to the point in fact, job hunting is an atrocious way of cleansing the palette for more interesting life experiences, but with that mindset I have gotten nowhere. So, obviously that all needs to change because I’m not a two-year old, and I don’t need to be supervised twenty-four/seven. However, with all the judicial things that apply to my current situation, it is either jail to pay fines and then go from there, or make it all happen before the end of the month. Whichever I can pull off first is the way it will go, but I’d rather the latter then feel the sting of incarceration, I need to fess up to those that care about me most. Can I even hear the words that they are saying to me, or do they just mumble as much as I do? Is the goal of the century mass confusion, or some other kind of fear tactic to implement evolution in our school systems? The creepy crawl through integrity to get at a morsel of love or kindness, when it could so easily be won at a moment’s notice, and then terror at the end of a long rope to see the blood ooze from skin and bone. Or is it all that which is the illusion? I fear that will never be mine to know or realize. I’m done with this freakish display of sentiment, my emotions mean nothing to you people anyway, and I need to spend this time tearing my soul apart for a job. It shouldn’t be this way for a punk-ass little shithead like me, but when life has never felt worth living, sometimes it can be too much to take it all in at once. People can live how they want to live, and now I live with the consequences of torment, the stench, everyday of what remains. THE END?

Thanks, khet.

Posted by :\_khet on October 8th, 2007 in khet's coroner, p for Periclitate.... You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.

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