Life Happens

The warrior has fallen, fallen into the path of disbelief. I must rely on things outside me for comfort, because what is inside is dead. I'm running away now from everything I stood for, my words have fallen silent. Who would want to listen to a hypocrite. I can't see anymore good coming from me, my insides are eating away, and soon nothing will be left except the devil inside. And this devil only knows destructions I started hitting myself again. I don't know how long its been, but doing it that hard has been about a year, one year for the cycle to start over, one year of running to finally end up at the beginning again. Fucked! All this talk of change and no change. The world doesn't want change, it can just sit there and fuck itself to death. For me, I ran into a wall of concrete, see I thought it was all grays and there would be a way to sit through it all. But everywhere I looked soon hardened, And the last opening . . . Welll I was running full speed grabbing at this final hope until bam! . . . style="font-style:italic;">daydream delusion I awoke from this dream that I'd been dreaming that I had been in a dream and everyone else was too and that if I could show other people the way too. But there is no way out of this shit. I am bound to keep climbing an ever steeper hill with an ever steeper load. heh, If I were really dreaming then the hill would get smaller or I could just fly up there no problem. So why even write anything you ask, because really what I'm doing is breathing my last breath of air before I hit the bottom. You see falling is not death itself, it leads to death but as long as you aren't there yet then you are never dead yet. So what have I done? Tricked myself into falling in a hole so that I might come to see death, and right at that final instant avert it? But how will I re-climb all the ground that I had lost in the meantime, a straight vertical drop. But I'm not really here or there and if time and place don't exist without some point of reference. Then I am as much here as I am any place else. I have lost my frame of reference you see, and so I am afraid that I ended up where I started. But the truth is I never really went anywhere, I was always here. And what I saw as progress was a lie cast infront of me. A false mountain was built under me, so that the inevitability of my not succeeding would drop me straight to death. But that's just another one of the lies the devil casts in front of us. As long as I'm here, then I'm not dead, and since here is no more than an inch from death and an inch from enlightenment. The devil needed an extra pull to break me down, he needed to create the illusion that death is so far away so that he would trap us into it. As I realize now that death is always close by then it cannot scare me, "To never think of dying is to never think of living." So where do I go now? The train whistle blows and I wonder where its going to, will I ever know, will I ever get on? So given this anecdote, am I really depressed? Shouldn't I infact be happier to be out of the dream. I know it felt amazing dreaming but you can't start dreaming from within another dream. You must come back to reality, realize you are still here close to death. And when you start to dream this time, reality will change with it. See all was not lost before, dreams can be used to assist you, because without them you wouldn't have arrived here. And what is here? It is the doorstep to yourself. You two could meet but not in the land of pen & paper or books or movies or conversations, the self is in the unconcious and that is entered through the gaps of mind. So as long as you, Brian continues writing then you will not meet yourself, but don't stop writing too soon either, because really it is responsible for bringing you this far, you must feel yourself drift away from your pen not pull the pen away from yourself drift back into that flow of mind you've felt it before, if only just briefly. If only just . . .