In my later years I found myself going back and forth on the screen, typing away nonsense in a vague attempt to make sense of it all. In that regard, I just seemed to fail miserably. Nothing that was being presented on the page was of any sense, morally I was just a piece of paper being handed down the chain of command. All my thoughts ended up revolving around unresolved issues and nothing about attaining a state of nirvana. But even so, I still had a fading wish of making something out of everything that had transpired in my life.
How I once fell in love, the thoughts of contempt towards those who I despised, and of course, the characteristics that now described me were in the way. There is always something in the way. One cannot simply wish for things to be simple and straightforward; things just seem to be more complicated and full of wonderful things. And by wonderful I mean full of shit.
At my age it is hard to say that I have finally matured into something other than that caterpillar, all green and naïve. But as awkward and silly as that may seem it is unfortunately true. After so many years of fighting life, the little boy inside of me gave up and died, taking that spark of life I once had to the tomb.
And so I keep writing, trying to make sense of it all as if something will magically appear on the screen and deliver me from my hell. Maybe. Anything is possible right? I could be fifty, sixty or even ninety and I will never understand what it is to be old. I always thought it meant being physically incapable, but I know now that the truth is far from that. What was once innocent and pure is now putrid and callous. That’s how things roll in this life.
My world has gotten older. Everyone I got to know is aging, slowly becoming a faint memory, fading like a shooting star with a short life span. What we see of it is our interpretation of its life cycle, anything other than that will only be left to imaginative speculation. Death seems inevitable, but if you really think of it, it is only a process. We are energy, thus we are forever recycled. On and on and on.
We indeed are explosive energy. And like so, we have our three important stages of life: we ignite, we burn and then we subside.