A Reference to the Philosophical

December 11, 2006

     Blessed be Apollo that pierces my eyesight with his fiery needles. With one of my senses gone, only five remain to prolong my suffering. Fortune snickers behind my back as She insures my reason to be the last to go. Sweet Ignorance is shackled somewhere deep within the recesses of my soul. Bliss was long ago murdered by those that plot against me. No longer is it naive paranoia, but rather exaggerated fact.

     They seek to control what they cannnot understand in hopes of defining me to a colorless box of words- not even valued enough to be composed of ideas. Their vain attempts infuriate this hardened heart. I define myself. Mark it well. Paradox, my sweet, make sense of this strange dimension. I miss the old world where compexitly was simple when complicated. Here I find myself digging a hole to Mexico only to find Taiwan. There is nothing to piece together, only unsolvable riddels to guide me through spiral labyrinths. (Circles without ends prized among them.)

     The timeless puzzles of the ages are child's play whereas the questions I have are without answers. I crave a challenge, but one that may reach completion. My current state of adolescence is impatient and eats away at my mind. Someone, give it something else to feed upon! I fear the days of my sanity are numbered, and when they find their date, what will be left of this fleshy vessel? A better writer?

     Blessed am I , Mother, to not believe in sin. There is only the moral, immoral, and amoral- happiness, anguish, and apathy. Do I have a choice in the matter, or are you to choose the path for me? Ah, of course. I choose my own fate, for there is no Power without that does not also reside within. So, no, I am not suicidal. I have far more to be thankful for than the lost sinners of the wretched world. I have the Power to humbly create my own. I drink from Life's chalice with pride.

Reviews

[Shapeshifter]

The essence of being an Indigo is to know and be misunderstood for it for the most part it seems, but you've managed to trap it into words:) Also, the strand of growing out of childhood and 'coming of age' is well placed and poignant; something any artist or enlightened person can relate to. How do you define the 'sinners' if were all fallen? Other than that, amazing job beloved:) B