No Harm, No foul
I wanted be rich, better looking, with bigger tits, and to have a better life than the one I had. I have blasphemed everything I can think of thus far. I blasphemed the catholic church, I blasphemed all church, and I blasphemed the U.S. government (after ceasing to be frightened of it.) I blasphemed everything I could think of including the very entity which saved my life. That's just how I am. I operate in vacillation between savage defiance and crumbling despair. I'm always someplace on the spectrum. At the extremes, we call this the victim/vigilante syndrome.
I have determined that I exist in a profane reality and seek to find myself, so to speak. Let's face it finding oneself can be an arduous process in this rodeo as evidenced by all the self help books flooding the market. I was told that those are for people who can help themselves in a vacuum and I wasn't one of them. As it turns out, the internet has turned me in a cross between the fabled Gretel and the girl detective Nancy Drew.
I determined that someone had the answers and that I would find them if it killed me. I found what I was looking for and the door to that fabled Pandora's Box swings ever wider as each moment passes. On some days it feels as if I'm clicking my way to top of the rollercoaster and on others it feels that I may careen off the track as I rush towards more personal, and dare I say professional, self actualization.
If the truth is revealed, I must admit that my life is rushing towards me and if I'm honest I'd have to say that the rollercoaster ride is so exhilarating that it actually feels like I am experiencing the entire ride simultaneously. Love, hate, anger, fear, hope, despair, grief, along with righteous indignation flood my being. Sometimes it feels as if it is all threatening to rip me to shreds.
It is clear to me that the profane reality is at present operating in defiance of Natural Law. Nature and God abhor suicide and it feels at times that we are all poised with the razor at our wrists. I feel like shouting out, "Step away from the ledge! You don't need to do this."
After all, suicide is a permanent answer to a temporary problem.
I have determined that I exist in a profane reality and seek to find myself, so to speak. Let's face it finding oneself can be an arduous process in this rodeo as evidenced by all the self help books flooding the market. I was told that those are for people who can help themselves in a vacuum and I wasn't one of them. As it turns out, the internet has turned me in a cross between the fabled Gretel and the girl detective Nancy Drew.
I determined that someone had the answers and that I would find them if it killed me. I found what I was looking for and the door to that fabled Pandora's Box swings ever wider as each moment passes. On some days it feels as if I'm clicking my way to top of the rollercoaster and on others it feels that I may careen off the track as I rush towards more personal, and dare I say professional, self actualization.
If the truth is revealed, I must admit that my life is rushing towards me and if I'm honest I'd have to say that the rollercoaster ride is so exhilarating that it actually feels like I am experiencing the entire ride simultaneously. Love, hate, anger, fear, hope, despair, grief, along with righteous indignation flood my being. Sometimes it feels as if it is all threatening to rip me to shreds.
It is clear to me that the profane reality is at present operating in defiance of Natural Law. Nature and God abhor suicide and it feels at times that we are all poised with the razor at our wrists. I feel like shouting out, "Step away from the ledge! You don't need to do this."
After all, suicide is a permanent answer to a temporary problem.
Comments
Post a Comment