Author Information
Wisdom
I have seen many things in my frankly short life-time, I've experienced life and death, trust and betrayal, love and loss, and for that I am glad. With all of these experiences I have gained knowledge and a clear understanding of how the world works. We only have one another until someone gets lost inside of their own dreadful conscience.
I find myself slowly getting more bitter towards the world again, as if it was the universe's fault for giving me feelings. As more and more things come into fruition, I find myself getting more and more detached from the rest of man, I feel my lungs fill with bile and blood, and my heart being beaten by those friendly demons who have the most daring smiles lying upon their lying lips.
Am I going crazy? or is my plethora of paranoias just here to push me back into reality? Have I ever truly lived, and if I have, what part of me is clutching onto my clean mind, slowly stretching it and stealing all of my thoughts into the pit and filling my heart with stolidity? My feet are being twisted and mangled into misdirection with every step on my endless pilgrimage into malevolent darkness and insanity. The thing is, I like the way it feels, to know that my soul can still feel and know that I can still feel the pulsating of my limp heart in my chest, reminding me that I am here only to let others know that they can feel too, if they just embrace the pain.
Pain is just weakness leaving the body, but oh how I wish for the days that I could feel weak and vulnerable again, to know that anyone has power over my emotions more than I do. I want to feel that either myself or another is in control of my emotions, just the constant reassurance of my repetitive contradictory morals has become a maelstrom in my mind, always repeating itself and always proving itself wrong in anyway it can.
I also noticed how all of the colors are different, how I see the color brown or blue may be bright and vibrant with explosions of colors, while you may just see grey, lightly tinted an orphan blue or mahogany brown in every color that you come into contact with. Now all of the colors are becoming bland, ordinary and generic. When I touch things like the bark of a tree or the still waters of St. George, there was a time when I felt the slightest shocks of life in everything, but now, I feel only their life slowly seeping out of those poor seedlings. Even the
world smelled fresh and new every morning when I ran outside to play in the crisp Florida weather, the leaves crunching under my feet and the rocks always firmly trapped into the ground where they would lie for years.
Nature itself has taught me valuable lessons through creation and destruction, it's adamant ways of life and death, unchanging in all of its ways. It has shown me that where a tree falls, that is where it will lie. It has shown me that even though the ants and the beetles have no ruler, they still can gather together to try and survive even without a ruler as man has always considered a necessity. Even though the elephant still cries for the way its mother treats him, he still grows to build clear paths of life for even the smallest creature of the forest, so all of the animals of the jungle, big and small, bow down and respect he who has built a way for them.
The thing that softens my heart the most, is when an innocent child or ignorant baby wraps their hand around my finger. They're pulse is always steady, always holding on without a care in the world. Oblivious to the menacing setting that threatens the only valuable thing that they have, their happiness. The transition from complete innocent to lack of innocence is the scariest image, their eyes dilate, shoulders tense, and fear replaces happiness. You see that they become quieter, they start hiding from their problems, they have those deep, secret things. They get lost in thought, drowning everything out with the repetitive screaming of the night that they changed. In the course of about three months, you see years of experience and pain added onto them. You're 14-year-old boy and girl both went from an 8-year-old mindset, to the mindset of someone in their mid-life crisis, mid-thirties. They've died during their transgression, but have a new, beautiful journey ahead of them.
Children are being resentful and petrified of their parents more and more as time goes on, from ignoring their correction, to even yelling back. We have kids who smoke and that get pregnant as soon as they find out exactly what intercourse is through their vast amounts of internet connection, they're more concerned with getting connected to their wi-fi than getting connected with a friend. Our beautiful baby girls are afraid to look natural and hide behind makeup, while our brawny baby boys are swapping sexts to others, but all of the parents just make excuses for their kids, "oh, it's just a phase, s/he'll grow out of it, and
don't you dare talk about my kid that way again!!!", What a terribly unique, unified world we live in, where good leaders are forced to be obedient followers.
Parents aren't married anymore, there aren't any more happy families here. Now we jump from lover to lover looking to lose something that we think is lassoed around our throats. We're afraid to be alone, but we push against the people that are around us out of fear, it's as if no matter how hard we try, our fate is set in stone. We're all just kids, stoned out of our minds, muffling laughter out from behind our cracked happy masks. A marriage today is just a five-year maximum subscription that most people are too lazy or afraid to re-subscribe to once they get bored of the monthly gossip and news, so they just move onto another one.
Is a lie really a lie if you believe it to be the truth? Or does a lie become the truth if enough people believe it? Whether a statement is a truth or a lie, it is still a statement that provokes change in someone. Whether you hurt someone with the truth or comfort someone with a lie, it changes them, it helps them either open up or shut them down, but overall, the truth always submerges, even after so much rough suppression.
When I say something, I've come to the conclusion that everyone perceives my words differently, I speak elegant words, but they don't understand the context in which I speak, my mother and friends think that I'm being negative and down putting, while my aunts and distant acquaintances think that it's beautiful and eye opening. But no matter what, I will always hurt, deep down, I know that I'm still a monster, and no matter how hard I try, I am a predator, out for blood.
The thing that scares people most, is the thought of the unknown. The suspense that anything could happen in the next few moments. He could want absolutely nothing to do with you, and you have absolutely no control over that. She could tell you exactly how she feels about you and completely destroy you. Even death itself, you don't know where you're going but it's coming up soon, and you have no power not to think about it at night, it eats at your sleep and saps at your mindset every day, the more you ponder over it, the more power it has over you, it's completely draining. Will it hurt? Wherever I go, will I remember everyone on earth? Will I find who I've lost? If not, then was life really worth it? It's beautiful.
I am isolated, my feelings are just repetitive now and I'm getting lost just when they say to get out of the way. We always tell ourselves that we'll never love again, that we'll never let anybody hurt us like they did before. But this time, this time we thought that it would be different, that he would actually stay, and that she would fight for you like they promised they would, that you were exactly as they said you were to them "sister" or "brother". But now I've realized that we are all replaceable and get worn out like clothing on an orphan child, they love us when we warm them and surround them with love, but as soon as we get worn out, they burn us, straight down to the pit of our shattered soul.
The soul is like a mirror of who you are. When you are a child, with no cracks or blemishes, the world sees you for who you really are, you can be as real as you can be. Then the person who used you finally found a newer mirror, they drop you, along with the smudges that they made on your mirror like soul. You hit the ground, it's cold and damp, yet arid and glowing. You're cracked beyond repair, you can't see who you are clearly anymore, everything is clear but out of place. There are parts of you missing that you searched for, but the ground stopped glowing and the world went dark. They dropped you and left you in the dusted, dark ground, you poor, poor, broken soul. No one will ever understand you anymore because you don't even understand you. You get worse and worse. Being alone makes you feel useless, because you can't reflect anyone, you can't do anything, and so you think that makes you a freak, and it's all, their, fault. That monster. They made you disgusting, and nobody wants to pick up a discarded, dusty old mirror, now do they?
