05 June, 2010


(Please note, before you read this, that this is being written at a low point in my life)

Vanity of vanities, all things are vanity. They grow and die, they live and fade. All things are done in vain. From dust they come and to dust they return. Wherein then is the purpose of life? From whence can the meaning of life be found?

All were made for a reason. All were made for a mission. All perform some sort of service, provide a form of influence, shape all that occurs around us in minute ways. But. What if you cannot find your Dream? Your life's purpose? What if you have waited all your life for something to happen, something that tells you that 'this is it', but it never comes? All the while the colours are fading, the pain is growing and all you know is that the countdown has begun... and still. Still the Big Dream you were born with will not reveal itself. It will not even give you a little peek at what it has to offer and all the while the seconds tick by. Time is running out.

What is the point in studying, getting a job, going to work? Why bother? Why trouble yourself watching tv, gardening, playing sport, doing what things you love? For what reason? Is there a reason? They are purposeless, meaningless activities one performs; for the world cries, "Conform! Conform!" at the same time contradicting itself and demanding you achieve its ideal: "Be yourself. Be individual. Be unique. Be special." Yet if you do not conform, they come. They beat you and bind you, they squish you and confine you. They come and do the nameless 'thing' - what you most dread. All because you would not conform. It is not enough to just hurt you. No. They must wound you and kill you over and over and over and over again. Just because you would not conform. Because you refused to be like them, talk like them, look like them, think like them... All that you love best in this world, all that you hold dear - taken and destroyed. There is no such thing as being allowed to be an individual. You are special, but you are oppressed and the real you must stay hidden, protected at all costs. See what they have done?

A stab in the chest. Not enough. They repeat it and this time they twist the knife and push it up and down, slicing up through the rib cage to the neck; and down through the abdomen to the pelvis. OR instead and this one is more painful than the previous: they take what looks like a cross between a grapnel hook, a whisk and the blades of a blender and force it into your wound. There is a whirring and your insides - all your organs are mushed to pate. It is for this reason I hate, cannot eat or look at pate. Organ mush. How palatable. How enjoyable. Would you like some on your crackers with cheese? Pate. Hush. Hear the sound? They have found another victim.

Quickly. Quietly. Silently. Walk away. Hide yourself from the light of day. Let no man see or find you. All are enemies. None can be trusted. It may be someone that you thought was a friend will hold you down, whilst the other punches. They wear smiles on their faces and greet with with sweet innocence. Yet behind the masks they rage and speak and plot and plan and scheme. True kindness, with no motive, is so rare that one might say it is extinct.

One must be strong. One must never fall, never make a mistake. Never show a fault. To stumble is to fall and then the dog pack will get you. The dog pack love this game. They tease and play, but their aim? Their aim is to rip you to shreds. You are not like them and therefore must die. Anything that is weak (or shows weakness and is therefore weak) is fair game. Game to be hunted down. That is unless you excel in escape. Prove to them you are stronger, smarter and wiser than they. Show them your teeth, roar more loudly and fiercely than the whole pack put together. You must show them you are king. Eat or be eaten.

"Survival of the fittest," they love to say. No. It is not survival of the fittest. It is "massacre of the weakest". That is the game. How it must be played. Be strong or die. Eat or be eaten. Join the massacre or be massacred.

One alone is easily broken. You need people to help watch your back, but don't keep your back turned for long. It is not safe. I will say it again. It is not safe. Don't keep your back turned for more than a second. Oh, play their game and let them think that they have your trust, when in truth you trust nobody. Unless you are alone. The only thing, the only person you can ever ever trust is God. He is infallible and perfect. Knowing all things before they come to pass, He is the only lifeline you have in this dark world. The only one that can guide your steps, when one false move will have you fall and ripped to shreds. Trust His plan.

If you trust nobody and not even God. There is no one left to trust. Yourself? Ha! That is laughable. Yourself. Who would dare trust theirselves? Have you seen yourself and your selfish, petty little ways? Have you seen your thoughts, your bumbling and bungling, and your stupid, incomplete plans? Your tendency to cause chaos and all your silly little mistake that add up to more than you realised? Before you know it, you're in debt and drowning. How then can you trust yourself with even the smallest deed? You think that you have factored everything in, but you haven't. You think that you have accounted for every variable in the world, but you haven't, cannot. It is not possible. That is why, unless there is a God, it is better to die in whatever way seems best to you. There is no point and life is purposeless.

The darkness it creeps and poisons. Everything is tainted. The air, the sky, the ground, the birds, the trees, the grass, the creeping things, the fish, the people. All are tainted, all are cursed. Why trouble oneself with trying achieve anything upon this dying earth? If all is dying, isn't it just easier to die sooner rather than later and save yourself some suffering. Only, that's not the point. But then, what is?

Who cares about you? Your loved ones? You? Ha! And HA! again. You say you care about yourself and yet you don't. You don't do what you ought, you don't look after yourself or your beloved(s) as you ought. Sure you care about yourself, when you neglect the little things, left undone because 'there is not enough time'. You care only about your 'survival'. As long as you 'survive' everything will be all right.

How about your loved ones? Your friends? Your family? They have problems of their own. They have their own lives to live. Their own little 'worlds' to take care of. Their 'survival' to ensure. You sure they really care about you? Only to lean on you, step on you, use you when it's convenient, otherwise they just leave and forget about you or kill you if you're inconvenient. But that's life. That's what we tell ourselves. In reality, all we are doing is looking for a foothold or a handhold. Anything to hold onto and pull ourselves up the ranks, so that we can look back down and say, 'what a good boy/girl am I'. They 'care' about you, because you are a necessity, just as you 'care' and 'love' them, because you need them to 'survive'.

Look what we have come to. You. Alone in this world of billions. In the loneliest place anyone can be found. Lost amongst a crowd. You. Selfish little you. One selfish person amongst billions of equally or more ferociously selfish others. Each one vying for the title of 'king survivor'. Ha. And HA! again. Massacre of the weakest. Conform or be pulled down and trampled by the masses.

All things were made for laughter. All things were made for enjoyment. That is until they became tainted and perverted. Twisted things for twisted minds. What goes in must come out and if what comes out is tainted - how dark is the inside? Therefore laugh at everything. For laughter helps to chase fear away. Enjoy every moment of every day and want for nothing. "Eat and drink, for tomorrow we die." No. I rather say, eat and drink, but be wary and wise. You may yet avoid disaster and live to see another day.

Fear. Fear is something you must not do, for it brings the nameless things to life. If you have no fear and are not afraid, well then and good. Fear brings what was not, the little things you see out the corner of your eye, but disregard because we think they are improbable - to life. To fear them, brings the monsters out from that little unseen corner to before your very eyes... and then you're in trouble. Once you see them, all the more you fear them and the more you fear them, the more 'alive' they become. Fear gives them strength, therefore you. Must. Not. Be. Afraid. See them, by all means, but ignore them and cast them off as insignificant ramblings of an air current. You must not look directly at them. You must not scrutinise them. Above all, you must not fear them or they will come and not only destroy you, but all that you have lived, touched and breathed upon. This is what the monsters of the fearsome dark do. This is what they are. Fear finds them, brings them, feeds them. Only truth, faith, hope and the Name above all Names can dispel them. Fear not, neither be afraid, but be strong and of good courage. Perfect love - His perfect love, casts out all fear. Seek the Highest Authority and you'll know what I mean.

Do small things amuse small minds? But I tell you, nothing amuses nor interests large minds. Why? Because they are so big, they can't tell you where their brain ends and the noxious fart begins. Airheads they are and be. Therefore laugh. What is there to fear? They can only kill you and surely you've been there before.

Be amused by everything. Be thankful for everything. In everything you do, whether living or dying, waking or sleeping, working or resting, playing or stressing, NEVER LET GO. Never let go? Of what? Your life line. What else? For while there is hope, no matter how small, grab it, hold onto it and never let go. For me, it is God. He is my lifeline. My one and only hope that my existence has a meaning and has a purpose. The little dot of light at the end of the tunnel. Never let go.

So, while I have no further motivation; still, I live on. When all energy is drained and the gas tanks are empty; still, I go on. When all other hearts fail and all the lights go out; still, I hope. In peace, in love, in faith, in joy, in hope, in truth. The reason? For the hope that I have a reason and a purpose, that I will make somebody's life worth while. Time is running out and the countdown counts every second gone. Still...

Never let go.
Of Jesus.

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