Waiting, for that Second Chance

Hold your breath, count to ten, let it out, do it again.

Maybe I should take my own advice...

Time. It`s become a commodity. A fleeting moment is just that. Things go, they happen and you can’t change them. You can`t take them back. Every day, is gone. Gone. Done. Finished. But what does it matter?

People talk about strength, about faith, but in this world there is nothing more than comparisons. Strong compared to what? The mighty oak? A raging river? No. We bend and break under things so much safer. We run out of time but to do what? We’re wasting time but what should we be spending it on? Self improvement? Changing the world? Everything here is bound by that very same hourglass. Our grain of sand might fall through the bottom early or late but still it falls, and the glass will be empty. So what does it matter what shape, or what colour the sand is?

I have passion, desire. But there is nothing I feel them towards. Every time I see something I should care for, every time I try to work for what I believe in I think, and I remember. Every passion I have had hasn’t mattered. It doesn’t change the world, doesn’t change the fact that my death and the deaths of all those around me are fast approaching. So why then, should I wait for them to go? Wouldn’t it be better just to be the first one?

So selfish. But as of late I find myself thinking, deeply on what matters to me. And I have found that very little, in fact does. I speak, I smile, I burn with a brilliant light but when I turn to it, when I go to look the light disappears, like a star in the light with eyes directly upon it. There is nothing but gas, a fire that goes to the core but means nothing. So what is here, then, that is worth being passionate about?

I’ve heard all of the stock comments Community service, art, love. But they all don’t matter. Art will be destroyed, people you help will die anyway and love? Love is an illusion. A beautiful paint we put on our needs. Our selfish, unstable need to drag someone down and up with us. Its fear that keeps us together, not love.

I’m in a life I don’t want, running toward a career I hate with no alternative I want. I hate this, but I’ll hate everything else too. If I quit I will fester, If I don’t I will remain in pain. So what then do I choose? What is the lesser of two evils here? And who then, do I kneel before on the day of judgement? Which path will lead me to the best scenario, when she spins the wheel to place me back on earth? Must I be true to myself, or the world around me? For all the murders I have already committed simply by being, is there any redemption?

We, here, are villains. Our lives destroy the very essence of others. But so happy are they, with clear goals and a challenge to live up to. So wondrous it must be to worry most of when you will eat next, and not for where your place is in the universe. A goal, perhaps, that is what I need. A moment of physical desperation, to give me a light to look for. Throw me to the wild, turn me out to the cold, give me a challenge that can be overcome by the fire in me.

I don’t want to die this way.