Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Step Three: Blister Tongue

"No one should ever tell me I don't have a right to complain. Our problems may differ but all issues of this nature are severe. Are you worried yet?"

Yet again I sit here contemplating my existence. Just now it has dawned upon me that my life is so small, so insignificant, that simply being is no reason to suffer. To the ants, we are Gods. To the Gods, we are ants. To the universe, the Gods are nothing but fictitious energies created by our collective insanity as a way of coping with what we cannot comprehend. The placement of all these things is too convenient. Every moment in history has led up to one teenage girl having an existential crisis on the floor of her room while her drunk mother sobs in her sleep. Somewhere across the world it is entirely possible that someone is doing or thinking the same thing I am. It is entirely plausible that out of the millions of bedrooms in this country, one of them could be exactly like mine. We could have parallel lives. She could be working retail for the Devil's spawn and loathing every second she has to waste on putting other's pleasure above her own. She could be dreaming of finding a true family that wont fall victim to vices. She could be exactly, undeniably identical to me. And I will never meet her.

The world is fading. There are no colors. Every scent you once knew now smells like plain paper and black ink. You're just a child with a blank coloring book and a box of broken crayons. You could swear you tasted tears but your tongue has been missing since you could remember. Restricted senses have molded your mind into an expression of fear and apathy. God forbid you should ever feel. It would be chaos. Anarchy, even.

A can of spray paint rolls across the floor and bumps your foot. It's time you took your art to the streets. Prove you have a voice regardless of what the authority thinks. And maybe you'll find that person who thinks exactly like you. You'll find your reason to truly live. You are the product of natural selection. This is the way of nature and no one can stop you.