So every now and then we all reach this point, this point of proverbial no return. It's a dark and hollow feeling, like the pit of your soul is slowly becoming a collapsed star. The epitome of bright warm sunshiny feelings have died and turned into the void space of a black hole sucking up everything within light years slowly but surely. It's at this point that true freedom can be grasped. The freedom from the mortal restraints that bind most beings. The freedom from fear, hunger, pain and most importantly the freedom from love. Normally when we reach this point there is an epiphany manifestation which draws life into focus. With a purpose, even a false purpose, life becomes easier. The day to day seems less of a struggle when things have order, control, and direction. At this crossroads though you must make a choice, do you tread lightly on the line between salvation and seek redemption or should you forever cast your heart into the abyss which follows the sought after power and freedom... You see, it is this point which people see and fear. They take drugs, talk to councilors, undergo shock treatment, lock themselves up and self medicate. I however seem to draw on it as a form of inspiration, in this befuddled of moods do come my grandest ideas. Life is but a string of memories, one after another joined together by key points, much as a term paper is written. The key ideas are outlined and backed, the rest can be total bullshit yet in the end everything is roughly the same, it's over.
So with that inspirational thought out of the way, I'm going to begin something I had wished to do years ago, thought I may be crude, misguided and a bit selfish, I condone my self gratification for the sheer fact that it seems to be the only thing that's keeping me alive.
Oh how the moods do swing. Perhaps the changing of days, the loss of direction or general apathy granted to me out of a lack of conscious awareness or general care for well being have brought about some miraculous things. Although I use the word miraculous loosely and a bit askew from its preferable status, I find it amazing how my brain seems to jump from subject to subject never truly slowing, stopping or even pausing for the thoughts, ideas and general riff raff of information to settle. I lay here in the dark at 5:10 AM. With self loathing and general anesthetic setting in. Is this what I'm here for? To question my worth, to see the nights change to day over a skyline I know all too well? I used to sleep once, when I was younger I was care free, no fear of death, no fear of dying. Nothing held me back and nothing held me together, perhaps it was this upbringing which did such damage. I cannot seem to live as I see others do so frequently, something in life seems wrong; something in it seems misguided, mishandled and misrepresented. I hear too much of vacations, and not enough of adventure. My greatest dream has never been wealth, not even close, I dream of purpose, a quest, a calling, a call to greatness, nay a call at all. The day to day tedium draws out lifeblood into my palms, and with each drop I see fall I hear my soul cry out for more. I see not the ways of men, but the ways of honor, I hear not the call to riches but the call to glory and feel not for the coming of winter, but the coming of adventure. It is with these thoughts that I do stay up at night, the contemplations never ceasing to work and always forging a new breed.
It is with that, I would like to start my own adventure, I wish that I could do so actually, never the less I shall begin my adventure the only way I see fitting, in the recesses of my mind, produced and directed by yours truly and conducted on the big screen of the imagination.
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