Ten years ago, would I have predicted how lost me and my generation would be? Naive thoughts of a certain amount of money in my pocket, living a little bit more freely, feeling content enough to not force smiles throughout certain days of the week.. It’s not sadness that reeks out of my life, because I am forever grateful to be alive. I am surrounded by many special things, but deep down inside exists a monstrous root filled with anger, sadness, and a hopeless perspective for the future.  That root may have been planted by my father, a man who worked for the United Nations and who I had to pleasure of traveling all over the world with.  His vision of the future and politics never seemed to coincide with each other and he always told me that I’d know how he felt when I got a little bit older.  I think I understand.  Or, at least I am trying to.  In 2009, I began to feel a part of myself slowly levitating away and I instantly paid no mind.  Three years later, it stands parallel to the Belly of the Beast.  My disbelief in this system and the genetic make-up of human beings has washed my positive outlook down the drain.  It’s not completely lost.  I just feel like I’m being opened with a jagged piece of glass. There are certain things within this world that bring me back to a time when nothing could of broken me down.  The trees.  The open fields.  The sky.  The stars (when they are visible).  Water.  The voices of our ancestors who continuously speak to us about the importance of not giving up.  Are we here in this world to fight for others? Are we here in order to create beautiful things within this asymmetrical corrupted world?  Are we really here?  Does this world ultimately exist within our minds, only? Shall creation exist within this space?  I’ve woken up to the most powerful source within our universe next to me, but yet I’ve walked around blinded by a lot for as long as I can remember.  My appetite for life is extensive and I am slowly beginning to realize that these feelings aren’t foreign to most human beings.  I think that is the difficult thing about feeling lost: assuming that you are in this alone.  Yet, so many people go through their lives with this familiar perspective but they feel like it’s not acceptable to verbally express it.  How can you verbally express a profound, mysterious sense of beauty and despair of the universe?  Can you imagine opening up a conversation with this?  “Hey, How are you?” “I’m well, how are you dealing this overpowering sense of opening yourself up to the world? The minimal acknowledgement of the mysteries this world lays in front of its feet?” This is all complex and incomplete, beyond our human comprehension.  I believe after the illustration of these tricky thoughts the radiance of the sunrise will make me feel like myself again.  I hope that a bad night isn’t always a bad thing.  I hope that in the middle of these crowded streets I can encounter a blissful sentiment.  This is all too intricate.  It just hurts a lot.

Posted: Thu October 27th, 2011 at 10:15pm
Notes: 4

  1. kingtexas posted this