Time and Tears

Life is absurd. Happiness is arbitrary. Pain is inevitable. Oh, the melodrama! Dear heart, bleed for me.

Monday, June 27, 2005


Some days when I feel dejected and ready to throw myself down the bridge of despair, along comes McDonald�s. There is something unmistakably satisfying about the fat surging through my body as I bite into my BigMac and the oil and salt residues the stain my fingers and contain absolutely no nutritional value. Perhaps it�s the feeling of my arteries clogging and the promise of dieing just a few years earlier that is subconsciously so satisfying. Or perhaps it�s a sick attempt to amplify my pain and self hatred by making myself flabby and grotesque. Or perhaps it�s a simple sugar/fat rush that my body needs so that it�s more preoccupied with riding me of the harmful trans-fats than feeling sorry I was ever born. Whatever the reason, it works. Of course, I only live to regret it.
 Posted by Hello

Sunday, June 26, 2005

.Surrealist..Nightmare.

I’ve been feeling a certain absurdity lately. It’s nothing new but yet the feeling never fails to take me by surprise and pierce through my heart and mind such that for an instant I become as though paralyzed. There is no warning, it comes and goes. And with it brings a cold shiver of realization followed by an utter lack of understanding.

At these moments I see death before my eyes and I am overcome with a senseless fear. The fear only lasts for a brief moment as I struggle to return to consciousness and push the unwelcome thoughts back into the dark corners of my mind. But it is only followed by a rush of questions that when asked only serve to bring back the terror.

What does it mean to fear death?

I have thought about this question more than perhaps I should at my age. I have thought about it since I can remember but only recently have I been able to fully imagine its consequences and thus only recently have I started to experience these surges of emotions (by recently I mean that last couple of years). To me death has always symbolized the unknown. It is the end of our consciousness; the end of our being. And what does it mean to not exist any longer? I do not know and I do not think I want to know.

So is it possible to ever come in terms with this ultimate unknown? With this unimaginable infinite lack of existence? I used to think there was. I used to think that the only way I could live on forever was in the memory of my fellow human beings. I believed that the only way I could be remembered forever was to do something great. I wanted to save the world not because I thought it needed saving but because I thought it would be a great reason to live… a noble reason.

Then I grew up and I began to realize my limitations. I came face to face with failure and began to think that perhaps I was never meant for greatness despite what I had always wanted to believe. But deep down inside I never truly believed it and still don’t because for me to accept such a thing would mean that I would have to stop living. But along the way I lost sight of my goals. I became self centered and spent years in self deprecation as a result.

Every now and then I wake up from this surrealist nightmare and look at myself in the mirror and wonder if it’s still possible to be all that I wanted to be. There was a time when I would die for an idea and a just cause, now I wonder if I’ll ever have the chance.

These days I see a world that is bowing on its knees. It’s been beaten and grief stricken. It’s a world that needs saving from itself. Every day I hear the tallies of a new massacre. Every day I hear of inexcusable crimes against humanity and every day I see more and more that our society is only moving farther and farther away from a common good. I feel powerless. And yet I feel responsible. I do not know why I should feel so but I am disgusted at the ignorance and apathy of human beings and appalled by their greed, envy and disseat. Now more than ever I feel helpless because it seems that I have awaken from my egotistic trance but am instead faced with a solid wall of bureaucracy.