Write something inspirational. Write about life. Write about living it. Write about facing your fears and conquering them. Write about having courage and how to make dreams come true. Write about making a difference. Write something that the world can have to carry on a piece of you once you're long gone. Write something.
But why would I want to do that? Life is a mystery, what do I know of it? Why even bother to try? What good will come of analyzing the inner workings of your mind and applying it to the whole of your existence? That's all you are- existence. You're not here for any reason and no one will remember you once you leave. Today is the greatest day- that's right, because today is all there is baby. Better get used to it. So why not just check out now? Bye-bye world, you're too much trouble, and even the drugs can't distract me anymore.
But what if there was a tomorrow? Just...what if? What if you gave up too soon, and if you had held on just one more day, you would have had your big break? Maybe meet that one person you were destined to be with forever? Maybe you would have won the lottery this time, or maybe they'll have found the cure for your disease. Maybe tomorrow everything will fall into place; you'll suddenly realize what it is that's been missing from your life, and not just that, but also how to get it. What if?
If only. If only it were as easy as finding the perfectly shaped key to fit into the lock that guards the solution to all of your problems. If you think like that, you're sure to run into trouble. You're in a desperate quest for happiness, and you'll latch onto the first thing that eases your craving. Promises to take away your pain. You'll embrace it blindly and give your soul to it, believing it will satisfy you forever. You've found the key. What is it this time- a new boyfriend/girlfriend to tell you you're loved? A new lover to let you feel alive? A new drug to make you forget that you feel so dead? How many keys have you found so far? How many pieces of your soul have you given away? Is there anything left of you?
And why did you forget the most obvious thing? Why did you never think to love yourself? Why do you spend so much time hating yourself? Why is it so hard to have hope? What is hope? Hope is believing that there is a tomorrow. Hope is believing that you can write that tomorrow into existence. Hope is believing that that tomorrow can be different than today.
But why would you want tomorrow to be different? Why would you want to live to see tomorrow at all? What if tomorrow you fail? What if tomorrow isn't the day that will change everything? What if all tomorrow's really are just another today? You're wasting your time and energy. You're putting yourself on an emotional rollercoaster that will only go round and round in circles forever; it's unnecessary pain. Give me back my fucking drugs. Give me instant bliss in chemical form; it's so much fucking simpler.
Real happiness isn't a few hours of ecstatic freedom. Real happiness isn't an intense orgasm. Real happiness doesn't take you from walking to flying in five short minutes, no work or risk involved. Real happiness doesn't love you one minute and then rape you the next. Real happiness doesn't make you feel like shit the next day. I know what real happiness isn't but I still haven't figured out what it is.
So what are you going to do? Continue to indulge in your little game of self-destruction? There's an element of beauty in it, a work of art in hating yourself. The downward spiral entices you, there's something seductive about masochism. You've watched so many dreams miscarriage one by one, it's better to abort them before they've been born. Fuck the world, fuck everyone. What's wrong with giving up? What gives you any right to judge me? Do you know what I've been through, what I go through every day? How dare you call me a self-pitying coward? You've never seen the depths to which I've sunk. Yes, I dug myself this hole, but maybe I like it here, maybe the comfort of the darkness is preferable to the glare of the sunlight. Too much sunlight burns the eyes. And I prefer to keep mine closed, thanks anyway for all the rescue attempts.
But what if? What if 'up there' was better? What if, after your eyes adjusted to the light, you found what you had been looking for all along? What if your hope wasn't for nothing? What if your search was over? What would it be like to finally be really and truly happy? It could happen, I suppose. Or it could simply expose those realities you worked so hard to avoid, re-open those wounds you had bandaged so carefully. Although, all wounds must be re-opened and set to mend correctly before they can properly heal. And maybe the scars would fade, and after awhile, you could even forget you ever had them.
Maybe. I wish there were more guarantees in life. I wish risk could assure you reward. I wish dreams could equal our reality. I wish I wish I wish. The cynic in me hasn't quite stomped out the eternal optimist in me. Not yet. I think that tiny shred of hope is what keeps me alive. Those thin rays of peace that shine down on me through every break in the storm clouds. I need those moments, I need that inspiration. I need to believe they will come again. I need to believe in tomorrow. Or else I might as well die now.
Whatever you do, just don't do nothing.
And so I wrote something.
~kimmy.
------------------
~*~I hope you take a piece of me with you...~*~
[This message has been edited by *SWeeT-e* (edited 11 January 2001).]
But why would I want to do that? Life is a mystery, what do I know of it? Why even bother to try? What good will come of analyzing the inner workings of your mind and applying it to the whole of your existence? That's all you are- existence. You're not here for any reason and no one will remember you once you leave. Today is the greatest day- that's right, because today is all there is baby. Better get used to it. So why not just check out now? Bye-bye world, you're too much trouble, and even the drugs can't distract me anymore.
But what if there was a tomorrow? Just...what if? What if you gave up too soon, and if you had held on just one more day, you would have had your big break? Maybe meet that one person you were destined to be with forever? Maybe you would have won the lottery this time, or maybe they'll have found the cure for your disease. Maybe tomorrow everything will fall into place; you'll suddenly realize what it is that's been missing from your life, and not just that, but also how to get it. What if?
If only. If only it were as easy as finding the perfectly shaped key to fit into the lock that guards the solution to all of your problems. If you think like that, you're sure to run into trouble. You're in a desperate quest for happiness, and you'll latch onto the first thing that eases your craving. Promises to take away your pain. You'll embrace it blindly and give your soul to it, believing it will satisfy you forever. You've found the key. What is it this time- a new boyfriend/girlfriend to tell you you're loved? A new lover to let you feel alive? A new drug to make you forget that you feel so dead? How many keys have you found so far? How many pieces of your soul have you given away? Is there anything left of you?
And why did you forget the most obvious thing? Why did you never think to love yourself? Why do you spend so much time hating yourself? Why is it so hard to have hope? What is hope? Hope is believing that there is a tomorrow. Hope is believing that you can write that tomorrow into existence. Hope is believing that that tomorrow can be different than today.
But why would you want tomorrow to be different? Why would you want to live to see tomorrow at all? What if tomorrow you fail? What if tomorrow isn't the day that will change everything? What if all tomorrow's really are just another today? You're wasting your time and energy. You're putting yourself on an emotional rollercoaster that will only go round and round in circles forever; it's unnecessary pain. Give me back my fucking drugs. Give me instant bliss in chemical form; it's so much fucking simpler.
Real happiness isn't a few hours of ecstatic freedom. Real happiness isn't an intense orgasm. Real happiness doesn't take you from walking to flying in five short minutes, no work or risk involved. Real happiness doesn't love you one minute and then rape you the next. Real happiness doesn't make you feel like shit the next day. I know what real happiness isn't but I still haven't figured out what it is.
So what are you going to do? Continue to indulge in your little game of self-destruction? There's an element of beauty in it, a work of art in hating yourself. The downward spiral entices you, there's something seductive about masochism. You've watched so many dreams miscarriage one by one, it's better to abort them before they've been born. Fuck the world, fuck everyone. What's wrong with giving up? What gives you any right to judge me? Do you know what I've been through, what I go through every day? How dare you call me a self-pitying coward? You've never seen the depths to which I've sunk. Yes, I dug myself this hole, but maybe I like it here, maybe the comfort of the darkness is preferable to the glare of the sunlight. Too much sunlight burns the eyes. And I prefer to keep mine closed, thanks anyway for all the rescue attempts.
But what if? What if 'up there' was better? What if, after your eyes adjusted to the light, you found what you had been looking for all along? What if your hope wasn't for nothing? What if your search was over? What would it be like to finally be really and truly happy? It could happen, I suppose. Or it could simply expose those realities you worked so hard to avoid, re-open those wounds you had bandaged so carefully. Although, all wounds must be re-opened and set to mend correctly before they can properly heal. And maybe the scars would fade, and after awhile, you could even forget you ever had them.
Maybe. I wish there were more guarantees in life. I wish risk could assure you reward. I wish dreams could equal our reality. I wish I wish I wish. The cynic in me hasn't quite stomped out the eternal optimist in me. Not yet. I think that tiny shred of hope is what keeps me alive. Those thin rays of peace that shine down on me through every break in the storm clouds. I need those moments, I need that inspiration. I need to believe they will come again. I need to believe in tomorrow. Or else I might as well die now.
Whatever you do, just don't do nothing.
And so I wrote something.
~kimmy.
------------------
~*~I hope you take a piece of me with you...~*~
[This message has been edited by *SWeeT-e* (edited 11 January 2001).]
