Collectively Blind

What is wrong with me? I feel physically sick that much is for sure. Mentally my brain is on its own demented road trip desperate to escape from invisible phantoms lingering like ominous clouds over cheery thoughts.

My existence yearns for more than this, this pointless, empty way of living, were we are forced to merely dabble our feet, teased and taunted by a great satisfying plunge that we will never live to engage in. I crave with immense desperation a freedom that I cannot possibly acquire, stimulation of the mind that cannot be found in these sorrid walls, Or anywhere else touched by man. Anchored by my creation , forced through no choice of my own into an ignorance that no man has ever been able to escape.

An ignorance that is spoon-fed from society, forced between the lips of those that cry out for some long wished difference. There flame, there spark , any ounce of a fight torn from within them, battered into silence. We are all blind men leading the blind, fooling ourselves that our sight is more vivid or lively than those that amble behind us. Refusing as a collective unit to open our eyes, to explore, to gather. Perhaps even to escape.

We had no chance i suppose, nomad's wandering a land long lost to the acrid taste of corruption, greed and envy. Controlled before our brains had even developed enough to notice it. Merely attempting to fit in, to follow the rules and guidelines that have been presented to us.

"Time is agasint us, what can we ever hope to change as just one man with such a short lifespan", they cry like bleating sheep, recycled words passed from lip to lip for centuries, as a poor excuse for humanity's acceptance of monotony. Merely reliving a life, a story that has already been told.  

What is wrong with me you say? Ive taken too much of this reality in. Unable to turn the collective blind eye so easily to the failures as a race that no one takes account for. Weary of this worldwide hypocrisy that our entire species selflessly inflicts upon the earth. So many stagnant memories of wars i could not prevent.

Maybe I am lost? Just wondering on the cusp of life like a child abandoned to fend in the wilderness, twisted eventually by the unheard voices in the wind, dancing through the shadows of this reality, stuck in some morbid tale of self-satisfaction and remorse. 

Maybe I am merely searching for unrelenting control over a world that has granted me no freedom myself?       

Perhaps this is all just a product of my inability to fix things spun out of control, watching a world so full of talent and brilliance wither and die around me. A sense of anger and un-fulfillment from all the failures ill never make up for, all the knowledge I can never learn, things i can never see, touch, do.

All the people I can't save.                                 

Reviews

[Debbie_Philly]

Dont let yourself die sweetie.... you are full of talent... this piece proves it... very intense and deeply felt ... Keep on writing !! :)