Why bother?

It's simpler to just stay here, stay put. nothing ever happens the way you want it to in life. there are always some elements that interfere with the intentions you've shared with the aether. you've been told many a great things about how rewarding overcoming the challenges can be and such, but in the end you've been had. forced to conform to the normalcy, the inadequacy, of the circumstances unfolding before you. a stronger infusion of the tea of opportunity, forgetting that opportunity was the prize and instead becoming merely a tribute to what you truly wanted. "Expect disappointment and you'll never be disappointed" feels all the more comforting to believe in now. there is little to convey that things will change without external stimuli, that you alone are enough to make that change. but within lies another demon that won't fucking die. the emotional asshole that won't surrender its influence over the forces of thought and attraction. something poisonous and yet mesmerising, devastatingly beautiful. "Eat your heart out" and you will still feel it. filling your veins, every nerve's end, erupting from every pore, a radiating aura that extends an arm to catch you only to cut it off once it's got you. The sweetest deception, born from selfish need, from anxiety and apathy, from misery and humility, agony and depravity. "Energy in motion." fuck that person that coined this. Not my cup of 'opportuni-tea.'    
   
In over my head, with this. a victim or was i a slave? would the distinction have mattered if the outcome remained the same? who would split those hairs and drive the nail in? keep the roots separate with hope and prayer, with words and wisdom, folly and fermicide. another coffin for the better half that governs the darkness. but what of the dead man? the mountain that shattered the unbroken line, actively passive, a shade under the sun. what killed the embers when the fire calmed down? a wet blanket of weakness and a box of broken dreams. intuition rife with vices unfit for gargoyles, permeating sense and senselessness alike. choices and the lack thereof, paving the way to a dismal future. no one asked for this, and yet no one avoids it. a nonhereditary self-imposed curse. one like the oceans and forests suffer, the land embodies, the air acknowledges. puppets of the grand conjuring, the vital remains of motion, tattoos of time, penetrated and bound by energy that makes up all, all is one. it's exhausting, this comprehension of connections and limitless possibilities, divergence and convergence, infinity and the void. submit to the need of the hour and once again return to the cesspool of souls.    
   
"That's enough of that, thank you." makes my stomach turn, the hole, the 'philoso-fear' of it all. broken promises birthing pestilence and hate. delicious despair stuffing the corners of the casserole of cruelty. Self-inflicted, of course. How are we supposed to teach ourselves the meaning of hopelessness? if rational thinking never reared its head, 'th-e-motive' of the cosmos would have remained a mystery until the end. we only have ourselves to thank and no one else to blame. infuse the chemicals in the atmosphere with love and light and wait for the rain to deliver it to an unsuspecting martyr of existence holding on to the optimism of a leper. getting ahead and out of myself. nauseating and unbearable, i find myself to be. somewhere in the middle of losing hope and my mind, i decided to give up. began hating everything and myself. blowing rings of smoke to hang myself from. imprisoning my feelings seemed like the right thing to do. what have they ever accomplished? the imbalance, the serenity, the catastrophe, the harmony, everything boils down (to the) inside of me. this world i adorn with my truest desires is often demolished by my cowardice and intolerance.    
   
I'm tired. "i'm a coward. i'm dumb." things i never thought would define me. things that i don't deserve to be associated with. and yet like the rivers that cut through valleys and canyons, shearing rocks and felling trees, my resolve that once felt unshakable, was carved out by a stream of unchecked emotion running amuck across my ill-equipped facilities. the easy way out, the shortest route ahead, the shape of comfort, my guiding stars. a blind man that gave up choosing while choosing to give up. then cried over why things never got better. scorned at the inability to be himself. died knowing that he was the cause of it all.