Reality

Twice I tried to tear tears away.
Three times I tried to turn back.
Thrice I turned toward new causes,
And on the twelfth hour I was damned.

Twice I tried to throw it, tried tirelessly emphatic.
Trinket of ill-tried, empty triumph, failed.
Thrice in tepid waters I gravitated
Toward the murky depths, toward hell.

And on the twelfth hour I was damned.

~

"There is no hope in love, there is no great hope in romance. There is only heartache, or the pacification of all feelings into the duldrums of dispassion. Why else does every great romance end in happy ever after? Or seperation and death? Because happy ever after allows us to leave out the monotony of years of commitment, and the only other option to this petrifaction of love is death. Till death do us part, we or will bind ourselves to the very rocks we cast overboard... I would have death" - Me

~

Today I thought about love and death, nihilism and fate, humanity and despair. Thoughts to glorious and incomprehensible for my comprehension flooded over my subconscious and I was pulled to the written word so as to purge the deepness from me and be cured of it. In here you will find no words of great wisdom, no original thoughts on the origin of our species, and certainly no list of fundamental theological beliefs designed to explain the inexplicable. Only the musings of a boy lost in a world too big for him and too grand for him to imagine.

I looked at the stars last week and saw light, a billion years old, seeping through the atmosphere of our orb, bleeding into my eyes. I gazed and understood that I know nothing. I saw the limit of my understanding in the flashing. For all I knew the universe which gave me light was gone, faded to black one hundred thousand years ago. I will never know. How can one hope to achieve knowledge when the very existence he perceives might be gone and he unwittingly sits upon the brink of destruction. The stars are a humbling piece of beauty.

I thought about love and commitment. I pondered what was their worth. I wondered if I wanted to mean the world to someone, if I wanted to lay my life down at the feet of another and ask them to take it, my thoughts no longer my own, my actions no longer my own. What sacrifice would I be willing to give to love another? What dreams would fade, and which would come to the forefront? What would I leave behind and what would I gain? For to mean the world to someone is to mean less to yourself. There is a bargain, but is it one I may be willing to make? My life on my own, or our life together? I once said there is no great hope in love. I was wrong. There is only hope in love. I once said there is no great hope in romance, but isn't romance a reflection of hope? A belief so pure that logic and sensibilities must, to some degree, be neglected. Because to believe in hope based upon the sum of evidence one can collect by studying our minuscule speck of dust is foolish. I must look beyond, always.

So here I find myself. Nihilism is empty and love is full. In humanity I have seen the most unspeakable evil, and in humanity I have seen the very face of God. There is nothing to give up on unless I first give up on God and on myself. There is a truth. There are no useless souls, no useless humans but those that allow themselves to sit and rust, to spoil. I look at the stars and am not overcome by a sense of despair, but am instead comforted to know that it is not within my realm of control. I did not lay the foundations of the earth, so will close my mouth in wonder. I see the sacrifice of love and realize that I don't choose between love and spiritual fulfillment, but that I am instead choosing between two different loves and two blessed lives. I will close my mouth and worship the One, in wonder and awe. In the tenth hour I am blessed as my thoughts ascend to heaven.