Thoughts on mortality at 2am in the morning, when I really wish I was asleep

Life is not clear. Time will move on. Our minds will be stuck in the past. Sometimes, I long for the days gone by – when life was simple and I had no responsibility to behold. 

No rebellious mind or pain-laden body.

No desire to discover the intricacies of human relationships.

When I could just be in the company of others and enjoy it for what it was. An interaction with someone who cared for me in some way and I did not mind what that way was.

And on other occassions I have a strange desire to tear myself limb from dastardly limb in some vain, forlorn attempt to rebuild myself, to become someone else. And then I see that, in doing so, I could be no better than the parts that I now have.

Senseless though it may be, this is why I look into the mirror and see nothing but a scruffy mess of flesh and hair looking back at me, a look of utter desperation in his eyes as he looks to escape from the ideology of life.

On occassion I am reminded of childhood and at these times I see more clearly than ever that I can never grow up. Grow as old as I might, I seem destined to have the mindset of a child for what may seem to be an eternity.

But no man walks earth for an eternity. Every human being, however great or small their impact, is destined for death. A short run upon the stage of life before the pain ends.



And in that time, some may fill their lives so completely that there will suddenly be a great chasm in the souls of others. Some will leave the land of the living with nothing more than a whimper.

Such is death.


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