I've recently found myself in the strangest
mood of my life. All that surrounds me, all that I’m a part of, and all that I’ve
become is changing. I can step back and watch everything moving swiftly by and
watch everything fall apart. I’m waiting. For what, I am unaware.
Do we hide
behind the illusion of a made up sacred sense of life? All that I see others
living for makes no sense to me.
A force fed
existence. Our daily lives are mere distractions, in the end its all for
nothing. Is life an act? Are we all just waiting to die? No one wants to think
life is pointless, so we consume ourselves with goals and outcomes that
determine our self-worth. Are all of the “important” factors of life just
giving us some daily coping and distraction methods to wait for death?
These thoughts aren't fully derived, just blocked out into categories of questions and ideas.
Money.
Punching a clock 9-5?
The monotony of our routine. Do we pay attention to life
surrounding us? Why do we pride a banal existence on being a type-A, hardworking
job slave? Do we just get used to living our lives and routine that we are actually
numb to the rest?
Success.
Is it measureable? Does it really define us?
Religion.
Made up?
What if it was proven God does not exist? Would you be irate that you’ve wasted precious
time on reading and devoting your life to ancestral creative writing?
Love. A
selfish feeling?
How many can say they’ve loved unselfishly? Don’t we always
want something in return? Even with the greatest intentions, we all love
because of the amazing emotion that comes with love. What about lost love? Are
we continuing to be selfish to want to purge the planet of our exes? What
happens to love when it dies?
Competition. Do we
all just compete for who can distract and cope while waiting?
I am in a line, post marked circa 1983. We are all unaware
of the length of the line in which we stand, regardless of our post marked date.
Mike, You are cherished in my memories every day that I am in line.
