I'll show you how god falls asleep on the job...

Taking a look in the mirror. It's depressing. It's a trip down the rabbit hole farther than one perhaps intends. It's scary.

"And how can we win,
When fools can be kings"

I'm a coward. I can't stand to see others be happy. I can't stand to not be the center of attention. I'm too prone to envy and jealousy. Instead of being happy for others, I only envy and resent them. Even if I'm perfectly well off, I crave to be better than them. It validates me. And I hate it. I want to love humanity and forgive those who do wrong against me, but I can't find the strength in me. I want to accept all without judging and take them as they are, but I find myself unable to for whatever reason. And I don't know why. I'm filled with hate and anger. And envy. And jealousy. I judge humanity to be base and beyond saving, yet I myself am the worst specimen of all. I want control yet can't handle the responsibility that comes along with it. I want power but don't want to be held accountable. I hate being chastised and rebuked. I hate being criticized. I can't take criticism. I hide behind the veil of an "ego," yet have no confidence in myself. I hate myself. I hate what I've become. I hate getting up in the morning and realizing that I'm not the person I thought I'd be at this point in my life. Realizing that I"m a coward and that all my shortcomings are my fault. I blame others, yet know that it's ultimately my fault. But I refuse to accept it. I pretend that I'm better than everyone else in order to shield myself from the realization and the pain that comes with it. I talk down to others constantly. I hide behind cynicism and witty facts to make myself appear smarter or better than others, but I know they're nothing but illusions and masks. I can't face myself. I'm suicidal. I don't know to what degree. But the thoughts have been preoccupying me lately. What if I just let go of it all. Would it be better? I know I'd hurt some people, but I wouldn't feel this way anymore. I'd be able to estinguish thoughts. And the pain that comes with them. I want to be better. I want to fit in. I lack charisma. I make up circumstances and interactions in my mind to give myself a false sense of worth so I can say "well I could do that if I tried...but I just don't want to try because it's pointless seeing as how I know I can already do it, and do it better." I am everything I hate about others. I'm a reflection of the worst parts of humanity. I claim intelligence yet fail to realize even the most basic things. I rely on luck to pass off as skill. When I can't be the best, I claim the system is broken. That it's the system being inadequate for my far superior skill, or intelligence, or any number of things I tell myself to justify my short comings. I quit too often. I'm a quitter. I can't accept compliments. I can't accept losing. Or winning. I'm constantly off putting. I lack confidence in myself or my abilities. I have no self esteem. I hide behind the superficial. 

I want to be king.

But I have hope. I know that in despair there are those who look at me as I am, and accept that. And it makes me wonder why? Why, despite all my harsh words, and bad attitude, and childish behavior, they still welcome me back with open arms. And they ask for nothing in return. I over analyze. I try to make sense of things that already make sense. I try to look at the deeper meaning to things all the while neglecting the meaning in front of me. I refuse to accept things as they are. I hate humanity. I wish to see this whole world burn and all human life wiped out. I hate bureaucracy. I hate democracy and the emergence of the modern man and society. I hate money and the society it drives. I hate individualism. But I hate it because I love people. I hate them because I can't stand to see them fall so short of their potential. I can see what humanity can be. And the great heights it can reach. And the good it can do. Yet it constantly fails. And it kills me to see that. I can't accept to see humanity and people treat each other the way they do and take advantage of each other and trample on each other. And yes there is still good in people, but it's far overshadowed by the selfish individualistic self exalting majority. And I am part of that majority. I hate humanity because I'm no less human than anyone else. Because it acts the way I do. And it's the same as me. 

"Flick the switch and open your third eye, you'd see that

We should never be afraid to die"

Down the rabbit hole and back out again.

Even now, the cycle of bullshit and generalizations and overcompensating 'realizations' continues.

"So go, find a new way of coping with being alive.
When you find it don't tell me, I don't want to hear all your lies."

But I'm ok now. I find that by finally taking a look in the mirror, and looking at the reflection, it makes sense. 

"So what's it going to take for you to realize
it all could go away in one blink of an eye?"

You dream the dream. You dance the dance. You sing the song. You live the life. You wake up. You go about your day. You enjoy the company of those you have. You try to maximize the positive. You deal with the negative. You eat, rest and laugh. You sleep. And repeat. And you realize how precious that is. How precious being alive is. What a gift it is. And what a curse. But what a wonderful curse. A curse like none other. Priceless. And you take a breath and enjoy the view. And live the life you want to. Enough with all the whining, moaning and bitching. The analyzing. The justifying. The prioritizing. Be. For each good, there is a bad. For each bad, there is good. For every wrong there is a right. For every right there is a wrong. You do the best with what you have, and you hold on for dear life. All things are going to happen naturally. As they will. As they always have. And you hope for an answer to the bigger questions. You build your walls, and you gather security blankets, and you build your fences, and gate off your communities. And you open your heart to others, and you laugh, and you sing, and you feel the warmth of sharing that part of yourself. And you cry. And you smile. And hurt. And you contemplate. And you realize. And you drink. And you say stupid things. You make amends. You apologize. You regret and you vow to change. You learn from others and serve as an example. And you build a movie set. To tear it down. To entertain and to express. To be popular. To drink away the solitude. And you blog. You reach out to a voice in the void. You hope to hear. You turn on the radio and get lost in sound. 

It's okay. It's okay. It's okay.

You play martyr. You dream of heroism. You revile in the base and laugh at the meek. You fantasize about the good and the bad. You walk both paths, and pick as you go. 

What would you do if the world ended tomorrow? If everything you knew came to an end. And you lost everything. If the world just stopped being. Would you care? Would you feel it? Would you feel it for the others? For everyone else? Would you care about self preservation? Or would you worry about your family? Your friends? Your girlfriends and boyfriends? Humanity? Would you have hope or would you give in? Would you do because you can? Would you think about your fucking dog? Would you go back to your nine to five after that? Could you just get into your car and drive away from it all? Shrug your shoulders and drive away? Could you give your life to save another? And expect nothing in return? No glory. No sad story in the paper. No news headline. No sweet words at your funeral. Just give your life for someone and never have it known. Not even by that person. Would you give your life to end all genocide? To end world hunger? End poverty? End all the pain and suffering through disease? To bring fathers and brothers home from war? Could you look hell in the face and laugh? Turn away and walk away? 

I don't know if I could. I don't know if I'd do any of it. I don't know if I"m man enough. I used to think I'd readily give myself for any of these. I used to think I was the hero in the nightmares, rescuing the weak, saving the fallen. I used to imagine myself as a trumpeter of the glory days to come. A beacon of hope and light in a world so devoid  of both. That I was special. Unique. Original. Misunderstood. That no one knew what I had gone through. What I thought. What I could be. I still do. I'll think this for as long as I can think. 

A weight is lifted on this evening. 

"A falling star

At least I fall alone.
I can’t explain what you can’t explain."

I don't want to love the world. I don't want to forgive anymore. I don't want to accept everyone. I don't want to be the great hope and beacon of light amidst a failing world. I don't want to stand out and be the champion. I don't want to get along with everyone. I don't want to smile and pretend everything is alright. I just want to be. Be me. Be myself. No masks. No language. No subtlety. No walls. I want to face the man in the mirror and earn his respect once and for all. I want to show him that the world beyond the looking glass is not as dark as it may appear. I want to show him that it's ok to step through that window and join us. I don't want to live for any great philosophy. I don't want to live for any great ideal. I don't want to live as a martyr for a cause. I don't want to be associated with a particular personality or set of thoughts, ideas, ideals, contributions, actions, or anything else. I just want to wake up in the morning, and face the mirror. Knowing that I am who I am. That this is what it is. And that it's ok. It's okay. So turn the music up. Turn on the bass. Face the mob. And dance. The gunshots sling away, and their sound sets the beat. The bullets compel you to move. So move. Drop the disguise. And aim to kill. Be merry. And be kind. And give the world what it needs. Be what you are. Be who you are. But do it like no one else. Run. Run away. Run for your life. Just run. 

So I sit here with a glass of milk. And I listen to the poets of our generation. I lose myself in their words. And they make it alright. And their words purify. And I'm looking on the bright side, and balancing the whole damn thing. 

"See I'm all about them words
Over numbers, unencumbered numbered words;
Hundreds of pages, pages, pages for words."

I've found the most amazing woman in the world. And she completes me. And she makes life worth living. And it makes everything alright just to be around her. To hear her voice. To know that she's there. I'm almost finally out of words. Someone once said that the art of the tumble is to be humble and realize nothing is wrong. Take ownership of the situation. Be proud that you fucked up perfectly. Then smile, and wave. 

"Well if you should nervously break down

When its time for the shakedown would you take it?
It's when you cry just a little but you laugh in the middle that you've made it.
And don't it feel alright. And don't it feel so nice.
Lovely."

Say it again. Do we all dream of dreams or are our dreams the reality in which we are now being dreamt up? Such childish questions. Yet so intriguing. How do you ever really know? What's the difference between a lucid dream and reality? As I lay me down tonight, I close my eyes. What a beautiful sight. Once I dry my eyes I'll climb on. It takes some work to make it work. And it takes some good to make it hurt. It takes the one to know the other. In time to get away. 

For now, I'm glad god is asleep. But time goes on.