The Truth of I

To the heart within that bleeds,

Beating against a twisted chest

From sorrows unknown, the unrest

That lingers, like ghostly deeds

No longer remembered;

Did I not care for your pain,

As my hands, trembling, sought release

Even beyond the mind’s own disease?

What is the purpose of your reign,

Beside the agony left in your wake?

Bleeding worm that you are, writhing

Your way through the world’s veneer,

Trusting your hopes and longings so near,

Till the apex is reached… and nothing. 

‘Tis the reason you cry at night,

Sobbing like a child

Holding her blanket so tight,

Watching your own blood defiled

By the hounds of Man.

I walk this Earth wondering everyday who I am. Every time my mouth makes a sound, I wonder who really emitted that sound - was it really me, or a lifetime of conditioning?

My mind is racing at 200 miles an hour... sometimes it's hard even for me to keep up. Within myself there certainly is a duality. It transpires in all my writings if one ever paid close enough attention to it.

As I walked in and out of the office today I realised more concretely why I always tend to feel as though I'm stuck on the other side of a glass wall when it comes to dealing with others. It is because I do not feel fully 'awake'. I actually do not feel fully awake in this very life. It may sound very 'Matrix' like, but the blunt truth is that at some point I must have gone too far in my thinking and now going back to 'living' just like everyone else is impossible... because I just don't feel truly awake. 

How to describe it... It's like your mind can see way too many repetitive patterns everywhere, except you're not really 'seeing' them, it's more like sensing them everywhere because your mind is able to keep a tab on it all. And in the end I have to conclude: this life is an illusion.

An illusion, yes, but perhaps not a pointless one. Ultimately, life is life - but the illusion of life... then that hints at an intelligent entity having to exist to even come up with an 'illusion' of what just is in the first place.

And this is where I stand. I do not believe that this life is 'real'. It does not feel real at all. More like a half-awake dream, and every time I meet people in real life I have to make an increasing effort to remind myself to play the game - to make myself believe that maybe it's real.