I read this quote somewhere, I dare not mention where,
Due to the fear of ridicule, or of the quote losing its significance.
Said, "The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you cant achieve it."
As to this quote, I came to note, from my imagination, an exemplification, of what it might apply to,
A little story, psychopathically gory, not for children, or feeble of heart, I tell you it's an art, what one can do.
And as I thought, my imagination flew, I had no clue, as to what could befall this fate of mine,
My mind entrap't, enslaved, punished, lobotomized of free will, sent through hell's intestines.
My existence sent to inbetween worlds, it stayed there, neither here nor there,
It must have been hell, through what I've been, I lived in a deathly scare.
But with much agony, and much apathy, I freed my soul
And also a helping hand from a supernatural source.
You see, what I thought of, was of people, who wanted to die,
But they keep telling themselves to wait, for some reason,
For a reason, could be someone, or a sometime, or even just a lie.
I thought of what goes on through their mind? When they want to die?
I thought of what they think of when they wake up every morning?
I thought of how they could nourish their bodies, and sustain it?
I thought of the shame, the Biblical leprosy, and the loneliness, the searing pain.
I thought of how the world would lose all it's colour, all happiness would fade.
I thought of how I would look in the mirror.
I wondered what could've happened, and I came up with ways it could've happened.
I wondered what they felt, how they felt, all the time.
I wondered how they would have been with others, how could he show his face to them?
I realized they would act. Yes, they wouldn't want to be discovered. They would hide,
Behind a facade, of happiness and warmth and compassion and, life!
But hidden behind the contorted, uncomfortable smile, would be a scowl.
And behind the scowl, a hatred, a putrid poisoned feeling of being betrayed,
By love, by life, by fate, by the world, by luck, by the one above,
And through this fate, rises a new belief, of a creator.
They live in cowardice, and shame, and a mute existence.
I could feel my hatred rising, for a fading soul, for a lost cause, a half sunken ship.
So strong I felt this hatred, I felt their pain, their hopelessness,
And without realizing, I sunk a little in.
And as a philosopher, as I think of myself, I thought.
I thought of what shouldn't be thought of, too much.
But I knew not it, then, that I shouldn't venture so far,
As there is very little distinguishing boundary, between little, and little too much.
I thought what it is like to die?
I thought what if I was dead?
I thought about what happens after, does it end? Or is there more?
And as convinced as I was that it most definitely was the end,
So grew my doubt...
Like a spark licks a little dry twig and up in flames goes the forest,
Went my belief.
I was toying with the point of no return, like a curious little child.
And it seduced back.
It should've felt like touching a red hot metal, but it was enchanting.
Lustfully I pondered more, and sank in deeper into the chasms.
And as I pondered, I understood, and I felt brave, like a courageous warrior.
But it was more like fear had slipped away, slithered away like a snake,
Plotting and conspiring and planning for a feast with the devil, but I was far too lost.
My mortal fear of heights gone, I relaxed more on the edge of the roof,
Looking down, wondering, how would it feel to touch the bottom in the next moment?
I would wonder why the heavy speeding vehicles looked so sad? Maybe I should give them a kiss.
I would wonder how soft our skin is, and it can be invaded in so many ways.
I was sinking in curiosity, deeper and darker.
I was promised a beautiful land, full of love and hope and freedom.
In the true sense I had never felt before.
I was promised my mind and my consciousness, free of physical restraints.
I was promised an era, an eon, many eons, of plenty and enough.
They became better and better, and more difficult to ignore, more difficult to wait.
The darkness was all encompassing.
As the promises were on the edge of victory, shone a feeble light in the distance.
An accusation of selfishness!
Its voice grew louder, steadily, firmly.
A slight shame peeped, but arrogance reigned.
It won't matter later, I argued.
But my thoughts came from an abyss to a standstill, a miraculous moment,
The faces of all who loved me...loves me, what they mean, how much they mean.
Then their faces after I was gone, grief stricken, with doubt and disbelief,
And all those promises faded, and a deep shame overcame like a fog.
Remorse, repentance, rebuke ...
Then I saw hope, very literally,
I saw the promise of a life yet unlived,
I saw the promise of a love yet unloved,
Full of possibility, and choices and mysteries,Curiosities to ponder, discoveries to make,
Knowledge to acquire, feelings to feel,
Expectations to fulfill.
I saw the promise of a journey yet unwalked.
Dealt with the devil's advocate, who came to my head, and stayed there,
For days and days he stayed, and soothed me,caressed me, wooed me.
And just as I was lost, came a light, so bright, like a miracle it was.
Such thoughts couldn't come from my head, I know,
It must have been given by someone,
An angel, perhaps...
Due to the fear of ridicule, or of the quote losing its significance.
Said, "The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you cant achieve it."
As to this quote, I came to note, from my imagination, an exemplification, of what it might apply to,
A little story, psychopathically gory, not for children, or feeble of heart, I tell you it's an art, what one can do.
And as I thought, my imagination flew, I had no clue, as to what could befall this fate of mine,
My mind entrap't, enslaved, punished, lobotomized of free will, sent through hell's intestines.
My existence sent to inbetween worlds, it stayed there, neither here nor there,
It must have been hell, through what I've been, I lived in a deathly scare.
But with much agony, and much apathy, I freed my soul
And also a helping hand from a supernatural source.
You see, what I thought of, was of people, who wanted to die,
But they keep telling themselves to wait, for some reason,
For a reason, could be someone, or a sometime, or even just a lie.
I thought of what goes on through their mind? When they want to die?
I thought of what they think of when they wake up every morning?
I thought of how they could nourish their bodies, and sustain it?
I thought of the shame, the Biblical leprosy, and the loneliness, the searing pain.
I thought of how the world would lose all it's colour, all happiness would fade.
I thought of how I would look in the mirror.
I wondered what could've happened, and I came up with ways it could've happened.
I wondered what they felt, how they felt, all the time.
I wondered how they would have been with others, how could he show his face to them?
I realized they would act. Yes, they wouldn't want to be discovered. They would hide,
Behind a facade, of happiness and warmth and compassion and, life!
But hidden behind the contorted, uncomfortable smile, would be a scowl.
And behind the scowl, a hatred, a putrid poisoned feeling of being betrayed,
By love, by life, by fate, by the world, by luck, by the one above,
And through this fate, rises a new belief, of a creator.
They live in cowardice, and shame, and a mute existence.
I could feel my hatred rising, for a fading soul, for a lost cause, a half sunken ship.
So strong I felt this hatred, I felt their pain, their hopelessness,
And without realizing, I sunk a little in.
And as a philosopher, as I think of myself, I thought.
I thought of what shouldn't be thought of, too much.
But I knew not it, then, that I shouldn't venture so far,
As there is very little distinguishing boundary, between little, and little too much.
I thought what it is like to die?
I thought what if I was dead?
I thought about what happens after, does it end? Or is there more?
And as convinced as I was that it most definitely was the end,
So grew my doubt...
Like a spark licks a little dry twig and up in flames goes the forest,
Went my belief.
I was toying with the point of no return, like a curious little child.
And it seduced back.
It should've felt like touching a red hot metal, but it was enchanting.
Lustfully I pondered more, and sank in deeper into the chasms.
And as I pondered, I understood, and I felt brave, like a courageous warrior.
But it was more like fear had slipped away, slithered away like a snake,
Plotting and conspiring and planning for a feast with the devil, but I was far too lost.
My mortal fear of heights gone, I relaxed more on the edge of the roof,
Looking down, wondering, how would it feel to touch the bottom in the next moment?
I would wonder why the heavy speeding vehicles looked so sad? Maybe I should give them a kiss.
I would wonder how soft our skin is, and it can be invaded in so many ways.
I was sinking in curiosity, deeper and darker.
I was promised a beautiful land, full of love and hope and freedom.
In the true sense I had never felt before.
I was promised my mind and my consciousness, free of physical restraints.
I was promised an era, an eon, many eons, of plenty and enough.
They became better and better, and more difficult to ignore, more difficult to wait.
The darkness was all encompassing.
As the promises were on the edge of victory, shone a feeble light in the distance.
An accusation of selfishness!
Its voice grew louder, steadily, firmly.
A slight shame peeped, but arrogance reigned.
It won't matter later, I argued.
But my thoughts came from an abyss to a standstill, a miraculous moment,
The faces of all who loved me...loves me, what they mean, how much they mean.
Then their faces after I was gone, grief stricken, with doubt and disbelief,
And all those promises faded, and a deep shame overcame like a fog.
Remorse, repentance, rebuke ...
Then I saw hope, very literally,
I saw the promise of a life yet unlived,
I saw the promise of a love yet unloved,
Full of possibility, and choices and mysteries,Curiosities to ponder, discoveries to make,
Knowledge to acquire, feelings to feel,
Expectations to fulfill.
I saw the promise of a journey yet unwalked.
Dealt with the devil's advocate, who came to my head, and stayed there,
For days and days he stayed, and soothed me,caressed me, wooed me.
And just as I was lost, came a light, so bright, like a miracle it was.
Such thoughts couldn't come from my head, I know,
It must have been given by someone,
An angel, perhaps...
