The only thing I'm good at seems to be not doing.
Not drinking. Not smoking. Not chasing tail. Not talking. Not realizing my dreams. Do I even dream?
So very good at demonstrating to myself there is no reason to do anything, no reason to change.
Why bother? What's the point? I can never answer these questions.
I waste away in a sea of insignificance. No person, thing, or thought stays for long here.
One day I'll look back upon my life and see a gigantic nothingness. I dread that day.
Or will I change before that day and eek out a life worth remembering?
Then again... why bother? Why is this important - to live such a life? It's not. I would have to make it important to myself. There is no objective value system that will impart wisdom. Because there is no such thing as wisdom. I hate all things subjective.
I embrace my inhibitor, my prison guard, myself. Objective reality - you are my reality.
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2 comments:
been there ... done that
I meant to make some kind of poem that reflects a part of my personality, but I think I ruined it by trying to make it logically consistent. I really should have cut it off earlier.
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