alex

I have become lost to the apathetic masses. The sincere face wishes to wear no masks. Aside from all of their primary side flings, they cast THE ULTIMATE EVIL DEED: They estrange you from yourself and postpone you from reaching the truth and seeing things as they really are.-------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ -- I come from nowhere. My past is like a hopeless oblivion of something that still vividly exists, sucking me in and at the same time providing a retreat to the lost bliss of nevermore. I am just a soul with an uncertain, if hopelessly sugared beginning; a crazy journey topped with joy and listlessness and everything in between; and a meandering blue sea emptying seamlessly into a vast black ocean with welcoming foam and maroon shades somewhere far away along the horizon, where, in a stark light outline, it's vast blackness meets with the sky by the uncertain end. I try to move through this life true, living it to the best of my ability, so that sometime far from that uncertain end I can say with my most sincere attempt at confidence, that I lived it with no regrets. ------------------------------------------------------------ ----------------------------------------------------------Ma ny times I feel like a loser, an inadequate, and almost everything around me-including my father and my own perception of myself-seem to justify this. Indeed, I am a loser. And a failure-not directly, but in so many ways. Yet I seem to regret very little, if anything at all. Somehow, this life just moved in such ways where I involved little of myself to the plunder of humanity, to the contributing actions of unions. They turned me away many times, yet I stand poised and ready. I can only ready myself for the future and say with a stronger conviction that I won't quit, continually improve myself and I will remain true to myself no matter what. Humanity needs me.The swans of humanity need my support and shoulders of guidance in our time of need. And with my whole being I will never let them down. For to fail them is worse than to fail yourself.--------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ ------- Many of my in-between moments I busy myself with justifying new ways to justify killing my time. I daydream, worry, celebrate my neuroses, phobias, love, and longing in thought, painting and, sometimes, by writing. I often tend to get overwhelmed emotionally, and aslo restless. Most of the time I allow for this. When night comes, it brings a longing for humanity's connection with it. Like a wolf howling to the vast and endless night, I feel an inner howl to the world to embrace with. Cornered and subjugated, this howl remains contained-despite a yearning to unleash it's voice of goodness-by something twistedly grand and unexplainable, like the force of reason and time; time and again piledriving it back down where it came from, trampling the virgin flames before they have a chance to smolder, and reducing it to the mythic dust that never was, only yearned to be. ------------------------------------------------------------ ----------------------------------------------------------An d with the coming of the nights, when some of them smile upon me, they illuminate in my mind a wish to see the world in a person. An unclear figure usually plays a part that is the spirit of a human, maybe female, or maybe something endearingly forever with a feminine essence that redeems and embraces in every way. Actually, it's part of a fantasy of mine, arguably partly egotistical. I have a hard time nowadays believing in soul mates and the rest of this far-fetched, narrow thinking bullshit. Doesn't mean that I wouldn't like to. All of it does feed the ego pretty well, like rolling around in a vat of warm butter for eternity with every promise in the world laid to you with conviction and no worries for eternity. But examining life leads me to believe otherwise now; embrace reality with a sore and bitter love touch that retains if only a twinkle of optimism and joy of childhood's conviction or the sake of sanity, maybe for the sake of hope. And think of people with having just as many layers of the proverbial grain as I have come to find in myself and in any seemingly simple fabric of life. Nevertheless, through all the harshness of life's perpetuating threads of storm and grayness, deep down inside I yearn to remain a hopeless romantic and a naive soul that is always looking at the world with a sense of wonder and awe but just seems to get a sense of longing that is never clear and always uncertain. One who carries with them a bittersweet, inexplicably warm feeling of always searching for a home yet being hopelessly lost, wherever they go. ------------------------------------------------------------ ----------------------------------------------------------Bu t even the best nights of joy, that welcome me and emrace me so become a play by the time morning arrives. With the morning's unforgiving wrath, I wake up in a half-comatose state with a spirit that seems to have burrowed itself into the cold ends of my feet, and a head that feels as heavy and useful as mopping pail. That's when the harshness and cold of my reality makes itself felt 10 layers down beneath the skin and I feel like the biggest waste alive. The blissful night full of sweet expanses, of gliding and flying along the prairies of a certain heaven that invited me to be part of them and see the caressing sides of the human soul, it spit me out and left me without saying goodbye. So suddenly came the raw, harsh morning.---------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ ------ I feel that I contribute to the notion of the struggling artist who is serious in their endeavors. Even though there are a lot of layers in between that don't easily contribute to this notion or any other, for that matter. For example, how can you explain the notion of a loser, or a loser but who is sincere in their actions? Or a loser who is not a Charlatan? Or an honest manipulator? ------------------------------------------------------------ -----------------------------------------------------------I am also writing entries for what may become a book someday.---------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ ------ Like the lyrics to one of my favorite songs of all time, something only so strong and convincing can move us in such ways as to become an enduring cornerstone of our philosophy. This is a vision and feeling of life as it is; it's essence. And it is a part of me, as essential as the two feet I plow the earth on. Here are the lyrics to one of my favorite bands' song, "Brief is the Light":----------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ---- Sentenced, "Brief is the Light".Chorus: Hear these words I say Make the Most out of Your Day For Brief is the Light On Our Way On this momentary trainHear these words I say Make the Most out Of Your Day For brief is The Light, and Brief is the Time That we're Allowed to Stay. ------------------------------------------------------------ -----------Be well my friends, my brothers and sisters, swans of humankind. Till we see the light that binds us.........