I’ll scream out loud
To the floor, to the clouds
Hoping that the whole world will hear
But Death won’t understand, with his scythe in hand,
The sorrow or hatred or fear
I’ll make a scene
With cries and pleas
So loud for the whole world to see
But Death has no eyes, nor care nor time
To yield to the desires of me
I’ll talk up every night
At my rooms old beds side
Just waiting for a friendly voice
But Death is a mute with no mouth to shoot
His laugh at my lack of choice
I’ll pray to the Gods
For some help or cure
For the inevitable that is to come
But God’s cannot stop what Death has in store
For each and everyone
I’ll fight on for years
Against all the fears
That slowly rot at my core
But Death is patient, calm and composed
Until I can fight on no more
I’ll stare at the ground
Day after day
And day after day after day
And Death will come as swift as the wind
With one sickly touch to take me away
And at Death’s door, my life will hang
Like a spider hangs from its web
But spiders move on and as will I
To embrace the one known as Death
Thursday, March 3, 2011
To Be Or Not To Be
That is the question.
Many a great minds were consumed by the question, and many great minds came off second best. But if the likes of Vincent Van Gogh, Sylvia Plathe and Virginia Woolfe caved to the thought, how is the Average Joe supposed to refrain and thrive?
It's obviously not an act of intelligence (or lack thereof) with such highly renowned figures falling victim to the act of suicide. It is more a lack of will.
"Survival of the fittest" - since the dawn of time nature has had its way of keeping the strong alive and disposing of the rest. A friend of mine adapts his theory of evolution to the act of suicide. Natures way of 'weeding out the weak' - so to speak.
But we are all weak. All suffer the same negativity, the same pessimism and the same confusion.
"Sometimes I worry that I've lost the plot, my twitching muscles tease my flippant thoughts."
We all feel a little overwhelmed at times. That our life is spiralling out of control, unavoidable, chaotic. So what differentiates those who go through with it and those who don't? Resillience, determination, something worth fighting for? Who knows.
It will happen to us all eventually, even if it is not by choice, as often is the case. We all live, we all suffer, we all die. It's never been a question of 'if', but a question of 'when'. I'd like to say that I'm not afraid of death, but mother taught me not to tell lies. It's hard to not be scared, but I've heard that it's great.
"Don't you weep. There is nothing, as lucky, as easy, as free."
A battle of the mind. Death is seen as a release for some, liberating, salvation just waiting to happen. Nature just moves too slowly, hence why few take the matter into their own hands. A haven of comfort, an escape from despair, a shining light in the black abyss that is existence.
What we must realise, is that suicide is a choice like any other. Made, perhaps, by troubled minds, but a choice nevertheless. They choose to seek freedom, we choose to strive on. We are all entitled to feel sorrow, regret, even guilt. 'But don't you weep. There is nothing as lucky, as easy, as free.'
For those who remain, we too have a choice. A choice of happiness, it's just a battle of the mind. Happiness will come to those who search for it, provided they know where to look. One can accept that a life has been taken, accept that things will never be the same again, but also accept that it does not mean the end for everyone. People never forget, scars never heal, but happiness never fades for those who believe in it. A battle of the mind. You can choose to be a person who looks for the happiness, even if it takes years. Or you can let the sorrow consume you, and let the hurt and pain carry you away on the same path as all those lost before you.
"The night is darkest just before the dawn. But I promise you, the dawn is coming."
Will you search for it? To be or not to be, that IS the question.
Many a great minds were consumed by the question, and many great minds came off second best. But if the likes of Vincent Van Gogh, Sylvia Plathe and Virginia Woolfe caved to the thought, how is the Average Joe supposed to refrain and thrive?
It's obviously not an act of intelligence (or lack thereof) with such highly renowned figures falling victim to the act of suicide. It is more a lack of will.
"Survival of the fittest" - since the dawn of time nature has had its way of keeping the strong alive and disposing of the rest. A friend of mine adapts his theory of evolution to the act of suicide. Natures way of 'weeding out the weak' - so to speak.
But we are all weak. All suffer the same negativity, the same pessimism and the same confusion.
"Sometimes I worry that I've lost the plot, my twitching muscles tease my flippant thoughts."
We all feel a little overwhelmed at times. That our life is spiralling out of control, unavoidable, chaotic. So what differentiates those who go through with it and those who don't? Resillience, determination, something worth fighting for? Who knows.
It will happen to us all eventually, even if it is not by choice, as often is the case. We all live, we all suffer, we all die. It's never been a question of 'if', but a question of 'when'. I'd like to say that I'm not afraid of death, but mother taught me not to tell lies. It's hard to not be scared, but I've heard that it's great.
"Don't you weep. There is nothing, as lucky, as easy, as free."
A battle of the mind. Death is seen as a release for some, liberating, salvation just waiting to happen. Nature just moves too slowly, hence why few take the matter into their own hands. A haven of comfort, an escape from despair, a shining light in the black abyss that is existence.
What we must realise, is that suicide is a choice like any other. Made, perhaps, by troubled minds, but a choice nevertheless. They choose to seek freedom, we choose to strive on. We are all entitled to feel sorrow, regret, even guilt. 'But don't you weep. There is nothing as lucky, as easy, as free.'
For those who remain, we too have a choice. A choice of happiness, it's just a battle of the mind. Happiness will come to those who search for it, provided they know where to look. One can accept that a life has been taken, accept that things will never be the same again, but also accept that it does not mean the end for everyone. People never forget, scars never heal, but happiness never fades for those who believe in it. A battle of the mind. You can choose to be a person who looks for the happiness, even if it takes years. Or you can let the sorrow consume you, and let the hurt and pain carry you away on the same path as all those lost before you.
"The night is darkest just before the dawn. But I promise you, the dawn is coming."
Will you search for it? To be or not to be, that IS the question.
Oh, To Appease The Masses
Amongst the busy duties entrusted on me by my employer, I somehow managed to writhe my thoughts free of responsibility and onto the phenomenon that is social blogging.
My other blog entitled: Soccer 2010/11 is rather straight-forward in its purpose and expectations. Match reports on soccer games, or any other interesting soccer related articles. This blog however does not have the luxury of simplicity.
The name itself has no direction or purpose and any expectations acquired from it's meaning is perhaps a little misleading; fantasized, melodramatic and even a little surreal. Obviously I am no madman, completely sane, 111%. But my thoughts do collide. Spiralling around my head, clashing against one another, as all good thoughts do.
They say that 95% of battles can be won in the mind. Well they don't. But I do. Who cares what 'they' think. Ha. Who doesn't? We all want to be recognised. "I guess it’s because we all want to believe that what we do is very important, that people hang onto our every word, that they care what we think. The truth is: you should consider yourself lucky if you even occasionally get to make someone, anyone, feel a little better." - When in doubt it pays wonders to pass others words off as your own.
The truth is simple. You cannot win them all. You cannot make everyone happy, you cannot please everyone. Life was never meant to be that easy. But as for this blog? It has no direction, no objective, no purpose. As do all of us I suppose.
"Why keep fighting? Do you believe you're fighting for something? For more than your survival? Can you tell me what it is? Do you even know? Is it freedom? Or truth? Perhaps peace? Yes? No? Could it be for love? Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. The temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose."
Without purpose, what is there to strive for?
Happiness? We were meant to be selfish. "Greed ladies and gentlemen, for lack of a better word, is good." After all, the only person we can truly make happy is ourselves. A battle of the mind. We can influence others happiness, but not determine it. Unable to secure a person's happiness other than their own, how could one possibly be capable of pleasing them all?
Oh, to appease the masses; the dream of a madman indeed.
My other blog entitled: Soccer 2010/11 is rather straight-forward in its purpose and expectations. Match reports on soccer games, or any other interesting soccer related articles. This blog however does not have the luxury of simplicity.
The name itself has no direction or purpose and any expectations acquired from it's meaning is perhaps a little misleading; fantasized, melodramatic and even a little surreal. Obviously I am no madman, completely sane, 111%. But my thoughts do collide. Spiralling around my head, clashing against one another, as all good thoughts do.
They say that 95% of battles can be won in the mind. Well they don't. But I do. Who cares what 'they' think. Ha. Who doesn't? We all want to be recognised. "I guess it’s because we all want to believe that what we do is very important, that people hang onto our every word, that they care what we think. The truth is: you should consider yourself lucky if you even occasionally get to make someone, anyone, feel a little better." - When in doubt it pays wonders to pass others words off as your own.
The truth is simple. You cannot win them all. You cannot make everyone happy, you cannot please everyone. Life was never meant to be that easy. But as for this blog? It has no direction, no objective, no purpose. As do all of us I suppose.
"Why keep fighting? Do you believe you're fighting for something? For more than your survival? Can you tell me what it is? Do you even know? Is it freedom? Or truth? Perhaps peace? Yes? No? Could it be for love? Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. The temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose."
Without purpose, what is there to strive for?
Happiness? We were meant to be selfish. "Greed ladies and gentlemen, for lack of a better word, is good." After all, the only person we can truly make happy is ourselves. A battle of the mind. We can influence others happiness, but not determine it. Unable to secure a person's happiness other than their own, how could one possibly be capable of pleasing them all?
Oh, to appease the masses; the dream of a madman indeed.
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