Whrilpools

Everything else is lost. I’ve tried to deny it for so long, Reality has found a way to capture me, and hold me, and shake me.

There must be something more – but nothing can be better than what I’ve lost. Maybe there used to be a place and purpose for me, but no more!! What am I? Am I an actor, a writer, philosopher, maybe even a fighter? God, how I long for the simple life of a fighter; to just have one goal – the guy goes down.

Damn it! See, I can’t even keep one thought together. I am none of those things now. I am less than nothing, barely human. I am a formless, misty mass of angry impulse, flickering in shadow.

Don’t even know why I’m writing this anymore. I’m not a writer anymore. This is just a desperate attempt to pull myself free from the black whirlpool sucking me down. I’ve got to face it; I don’t know what I am anymore. I am empty. Nothing to offer Her accept for empty words from empty company, all inside a thin shell of reality I can’t accept because I don’t understand.

I start to think I’m hiding my daemons well, but my family looks at me with eyes that tell me different. They see my emptiness, and they expected so much more. My children deserved more. Their looks sham me. My shame encourages me to retreat into emptiness. I spiral downwards.

I her Her from the next room, “Ah, my one real joy in the world is my shoulder blanket.” Her tolerance of me is loud. Everyone accepts these conditions as a matter of course. It only becomes a problem when I mention it. There is an unspoken agreement:

My wife hates me, my children resent me, and I am allowed to stay, just as long as I don’t make mention of it. I have created an environment that fully supports my empty destruction.

Can I remain truthful about my absence of truth? Hard to say, but I can’t believe there isn’t any who’ve never lied about this absence. It is the world’s unspoken agreement with the world. The minute we all agree that Truth is subjective, we cease to exist. We agree to survive, and to support the agreement of the lie.

No new conclusions, no revelations. Fuck! What a waste of time this was; birth to now!