As I think constantly the many dreams unfulfilled, the many paths, the many journeys we have travelled, I ask myself what: What does it all mean, what is it all for, what will happen, what will be the sacrifice, what will be the reward. Que sera sera (what will be will be), but is it really. Do we really be or are we being for someone else, something else? Those who believe in a higher power will say we are existing for the soul (yes I meant soul and not sole) purpose of returning to the source. The question is do I believe in that explanation any longer, as I am caught in a web of treachery, deception, trickery and loss, do I truly believe the chaos is an illusion or am I beginning to accept it as real. Is this chaos self-created or interrelated?
The creation of chaos is an unconventional path caught up in the mundane works of present life. As I ponder on the self, I am displaced in the fields of opposites. See my thoughts have always been, if you try to be a good person than good will come. That is not the facade being allowed in this universal path as the gravitational pull of negative overshadows my positive. I am barraged with a myriad of endless opposites. The more I seek a purpose, the more it hides from me; the more positive I attempt to be, the more negatives events occur; the more peace I try to accertain, the more chaos consumes; the more faith I have, the more loss I receive. So I retreat into a oneness of self source only to find a void. I call out to a God who no longer answers with the sweet, eloquent, floetry of yesterday's past but a same script of don't be blue, write and produce.
How can I not be blue when I am riddled with the sadness of guilt from a world who no longer cares about humanity, the hue of man. I write no words flow, I still no thoughts manifest, I produce no prosperity arrives. So I am caught in the vortex of chaos, not able to go back and unable to move forward. THIS BLOWS!
So what shall I do, just be, be what? be who? be HE who has abandoned me over and over and over again leaving an empty shell each time. Be they who intrinsically designed an iron clad web of lies which produce hate. Be me when I don't know who or what me is. Having this ability to feel the world's pain has left me incapacitated, laden in a void of mistaken identities and fallen destinies; so much that no longer do I want to feel at all. So I hide behind a mask of witty remarks, paranoid rants, and depressive immobilization. I am told by all to stand up, awaken, pull myself up by the bootstraps. Huh much easier said than done when ever time I stand I am smacked down, every time I awaken I fall back to sleep, ever time I pull myself I am pushed.
So I ask who will fill this cup? Where is the life for self, for me, for I, for you and I, for us, for we,
For ALL, that I AM
Peace, Love and Bliss
Angel-Ah