Not So Much Anymore

These past few months, I've noticed a change in me.

I've gone soft... mild... lukewarm... tasteless... dull... smooth... boring... lifeless... mediocre... tired...

What the hell happened?  I remember the days when, at the slightest urge, I would grind up a bunch of weed, roll it up nice in a dutchmaster candela wrapper, stick that ***** in my ear and walk down the ******* street with a doob the size of a sharpie hanging off my head like I didn't give a damn about it.  I can't believe I smoked it on a public walking trail.  I was so reckless...

These days, I am happy that I can eat without constantly worrying about how much money I'm burning up.  I am happy that I can have a beer or two and "take it easy."

**** "take it easy."  I used to turn the music up in my car, with the windows down, and the breeze in my face.  I used to walk into lectures on relativistic electrodynamics with my eyes red and closed into slits.  It seemed like I always knew the best answers the the professor's questions when I was high, whenever nobody else did.  I reveled in the unconventionality of my thought.

People didn't like it.  It angered them.  They fought to whittle it down.  They told me I was wrong for not respecting their arbitrary convention.  They said, "you can't just throw your life away like this.  You're too smart."

Little did they know, I was building something beautiful in my life.  I was charting a new world in my mind.  I was drinking the nectar of reality with a savage and insatiable greed.  I was running through the wilderness of uncertainty, laughing in the face of death and failure.  Spitting in the face of these false gods that punished me for my lack of piety.

Damnation by these was threatless.

In time, I started believing their lies.  I started believing that my "condition" was my own doing.  I'm not the only one who brought me here.  I like it here, anyway.  I am proud of who I am.

I'll never forget the day:

"Do you think you could live my life better than I could?"

"Yes, I think so."

Ignorant child.  Your life is simple.  No figuring to explore.  Its mechanization holds you tightly, like robotic fingers, caressing your cares, slaughtering your desire with humor and satisfaction.

Who shall suck this marrow from the bones of life?  Who will linger upon these last few drops?  This meat is uneaten.  Our mass produce leaves us satisfied with scraps, while the greedy consume us.

Relinquish your millstones.  Cut them from the neck, and swim away from this burden.  Leave no harm upon your inner child, and lose your sense of understanding.  This life is your enigma.  It escapes you, and throws doppelgangers at your feet.  How brilliant are you for relishing your discovery of shadows!

I won't answer to your telemarket soul slaughtering.  How can the dead bring life to the dying?  You would inoculate me, worshiping your pain elusion craft.

You are wrong to tell me what I need. 

I don't need a fancy car. 
I don't need a comfortable life. 
I don't need your toys. 
I don't need to be entertained. 
I don't need to defile my tongue with the names of your idols. 
I don't need your sympathy. 
I don't need your acceptance. 
I don't need to be free of your judgment.

You are wrong to tell me what I must do.

I don't need to control my dog if he isn't hurting anyone.
I don't need to quiet down.
I don't need to lie to avoid hurting you.
I don't need to be your friend.
I don't need to help you.
I don't need to help myself.
I don't need to exercise regularly if I don't want to.
I don't need to develop routines.
I don't need to worship efficiency like you do.
I don't need to do everything as quickly as possible.
I don't need to ignore the smell of roses.
I don't need to ignore the fresh air.
I don't need to ignore the love of god that I feel.
I don't need to ignore any of my feelings.
I don't need to explain myself if I don't want to.

You are wrong to tell me what I must feel.

I don't need to feel greedy.
I don't need to feel comfortable.
I don't need to feel loved.
I don't need to feel wanted.
I don't need to feel accepted.
I don't need to feel honorable.
I don't need to feel strong.
I don't need to feel weak.
I don't need to feel in control.
I don't need to feel trusted.
I don't need to feel happy.
I don't need to feel SATISFIED.

You are wrong to patronize me.
You are wrong to think you are right.
So am I.

That's the thing: there is no script for me to follow.
Most of the time, there is no better or worse - just different.

We don't value the same things.

Nobody does.


I choose to ignore you.  I choose to walk away from you.  I choose to tell you that you are wrong, because we all are.  When you understand this, talk to me.  I will share with you, and I will learn from you.

And together we can taste this strawberry without regret or concern.

This is the greatest form of love, to me.
It is the love of life and the self.

SeraphicWannabe SeraphicWannabe
22-25, M
4 Responses Mar 21, 2009

i'm speechless. except for i will try to speak.<br><br />
i feel like modern life leaves us so anaesthetized. i am, too, i have been for a long time, and i don't know how to find my way out. but i haven't always been. even as a young child, i realized i was different, i realized there were things about me my peers didn't understand, but i vowed not to give them up because i realized they were what made me. but things that go without ex<x>pression become silent even to oneself. it is like there is a thin film on the surface of things, and i can't seem to break through it. no matter what stirs beneath that surface, i just can't seem to gain access into my own soul.<br><br />
how brilliant you are for relinquishing your love of shadows!

Thank you, love. Your encouragement heals wounds in my integrity.

the chip in my armor is sympathy, which easily becomes guilt... some people find this and use their might to drive wedges into it... It's a conflict I still haven't resolved.<br />
<br />
I am finding my way, though.

I worked up a sweat just writing that. That makes me feel really good.