PHQ-Nickname:
Syndel
Halfquake:
Mania
Level:
74
Total kills:
19,884,443
Birthday:
00th 0000
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| Mood: | alive |
| Type: | Diary entry |
| Added: | September 26th 2010, 15:54:15 |
| Visits: | 2481 |
| Rating: | 5/5 (Votes: 1) |
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It's just that he was all alone. Always by himself. Never anyone to share the game. A man who lived in dreams -- that's who he was.
- Spike Spiegel, Cowboy Bebop.
I used to be both much more and much less. I was immortal - invincible and unmovable. I used to dream in bloody sacrifices, and speak in words masked of dark acts, where knives find targets in twilight. My words were spears and my voice a vieled jab, or a feint at meaning whilst the true strike was made below. I was disguised in a world of my own devising.
The power of speech was mine to weild. To convince others I was right, when I was telling lies. I made the reasonable sound like madness, the every-day sound like insanity, and the perfectly possible became immensely implausible. I shielded myself with insanity of my own demise, and so effective was I, I began to believe my own lies.
Capability is such a strange mistress. Sometimes she will let you acheive things far beyond your ability, and other times she will convince you the basic and immediate are beyond your control. You are forced to listen, as you convince others to make excuses for you, as if by proxy such things are more reasonable.
So I lived a life of no responsibility, and no loss. I entered into everything with nothing, and came away with more or less the same. There were no responsibilities, no consequences for actions taken. There were words - endless, harmless and empty. There was no substance, no desperate meanings and causes. I made no mistakes, for all mistakes were considered acceptable losses. I never put myself in harms way, and by doing so, I did myself the greatest harm of all.
To never commit, and to never have to commit, leaves the soul lifeless. I dredged around my purpose-built reality, seeking answers and happiness, where none could be found. I never looked beyond myself, and never saw the world outside. I was invincible, I was strong, I was terrible and I was mad. I was lonely.
No one could see me for who I am, and no one would look behind my facade. They were happy to take my face, and take my intelligence and accept them as meaningless parts of existance. The excuses I made were not excuses, they were reasoned explanations in the minds of the meek. The times I lied to myself were seen as truths, by all including me, until one day it all changed.
The fortresses we build around our minds protect us. They shield us from the outside world, and although we may find our walls damaged, and our state of mind driven to anger or sadness by those on the outside, it is inside we find our shelter, our reprieve and our sanctuary. I spent a lifetime living inside walls, looking out on a mad, bad world, where people did inexplicable things, for inexplicable reasons, never taking into account the cost to benefit ratio, or the meaningful value of reward. I scoffed at those who became successful around me. I mocked those who chased invisible dreams. I envied the happiness on their faces.
But sometimes there are people who stop at your gates, as your roads cross, and they stare from their battlements over to your own. Perhaps they will wave, or speak a casual greeting. Perhaps they will smile in that certain way, or perhaps they shake your hand firmly and treat you with a respect not born from misunderstanding, but from truth. If you are lucky, you will find that person with x-ray eyes, who sees past your walls and drawbridges to what's within, and calls you out when you lie to yourself. I met a person who called me out when I lied to myself. I met a person who showed me the truth of my actions.
I was never fearful, not before then. The world could burn, humanity could fail, and I would stay in my tower, safe and secure, or taking strength in the knowledge it did not matter to me. I bothered myself with cognitive challenges - solving the world's problems, rather than my own. I knew a way to make world peace work, and I knew how to save the rainforests, and I knew why all the plans had failed - the real reasons, the ones which went beyond logistics or money. I had been on the outside, looking in, for far too long, when the outside world is far bigger than my fortress.
So, what could one such as I do? One who feared nothing, but hid from everything? When confronted with the truth, I had a decision to make, and it would not be easy. My entire life could be staked on my next action, and it was a life I had put a great deal of words in to protect. I had built my fortress from the ground up - I knew every brick of my life more intimately than I know my own mind. I knew it's faults, it's insecurities, it's strengths and it's weaknesses. What else could one do in my position? Faced with a smile, and a handshake, and a mind which worked it's ways into the cracks? I let down my drawbridge, and I opened the portcullis. I stepped out into a world I had guarded against, and I smiled back.
I never feared till that point. Death could claim me and it wouldn't matter. My life would make no difference, and to judge my life from my own perspective would be meaningless. My life did not matter to me, and so I was willing victim to my own downfall. I fear now. I fear living an empty life - a life afraid, when reaching out beyond my fortress has given me so much. I fear not the world coming in, but me not coming out. To waste a life such as this, when it belongs to me. Could I commit such a crime against nature? Could I admit myself another lost soul, when salvation is so easily found? Could I deny myself those arms, those lips, and that mind which drives them towards me? Could I deny my own mind wanting the same?
The answer is no. When I look for meaning in my life, I do not see the emptiness of before. I see hope, and optomism, and fear. I welcome it.
The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. -Franklin D. Roosevelt |
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