On Pain and Life

I’m cold

I want warmth

Where’s the light?

All I see is darkness…

Emptiness

That’s all there is

Confusion

I can’t see a way out.

I’m trapped

And alone…

Where is everyone?

Have they left me?

Nothing ahead of me

Nothing behind me

All I have left

Is nothing.

What is my purpose?

Why am I here

If I am only to be

Pained and hurt?

Why are we here?

The same ones who suffer

The same ones who feel my pain

Or worse.

Why must we be tormented?

Why cannot these people

Who call themselves civil and educated

See the true darkness we see?

They believe they understand

The think they know

But they do not.

Or are we the ones,

The ones who think are trapped,

That are deceived?

We who have succumbed to the darkness.

We who have not seen the light.

We who do not understand…

And will never understand.

No one can see our pain

But ourselves.

No one can fight and conquer it

But ourselves.

This may be true,

But what of those others

Who are too weak

Or are too blind?

They rely on the ones

Who cannot truly understand

Or who believe they do

And are only lost even more.

Then what becomes of them?

If what you say is true,

Of one not knowing the other’s true pain,

Then what?

Then the soul is lost

Lost in that tumult of illusions,

Illusions of both the mind

And of others.

The person believe everything is right.

For that moment they feel…happy.

But that is not true.

The soul is still lost

And is still pained.

Hurt lingers longer than joy

And darkness overwhelms light.

If what you say is true,

The everyone is a mask

And nothing is real.

That is true.

Humans are composed of lies.

They convince themselves

That what is a lie is true.

That is how things are.

What the mind perceives

Is changed

And made to be true.

Only the soul,

With no eyes,

No ears,

No mind,

Only the soul

Can know truth.

The real truth.

The truth of all.

So life is made up of lies.

Perhaps.

Once cannot know for certain

What is true

And what is false.

Society set the boundaries.

Victors set the style.

Leaders set the rules.

And those of power set what is true.

Then what is the point of living

If everything is just a lie,

If there is nothing good

Or anything of worth?

A question asked by all

At one point or another,

And hardly ever answered

To anyone’s satisfaction.

Humans,

With their great complexity

And complicated emotions,

Find reasons for living.

Some for thrills.

Some for joy.

Some for pain.

Some for love.

And most live

Just because they want to.

They are blind

Blind to the truth of lies.

And the pain—

The pain they endure

And keep on living

Humans are strong

Stronger than what one might think.

It is a part of life

And without it

Chaos would reign.

But it hurts

And makes one want to stop:

To stop moving

And to stop living.

You say pain is eternal

Then what is this thing called happiness?

Is it another lie?

Everything is a lie

Including pain.

It is believed to be there

But it is not there.

But with pain,

Death is somewhere behind.

How can it be false then,

If it brings something so real?

How do you know you are alive?

How do you know you are not a dream

Or some imagination?

Then how will you know what is death?

If death is the end of existence,

What happens if you never existed?

What happens then?

Then everything is a lie.

In the end, yes.

Then everything said is false.

Was it?

How does one know?

This is a product of the mind

Or a product of the soul.

What you choose to believe

Is entirely up to you.

What you choose to ignore

Is of your own choice.

You are who you are.

Forget complicalities.

Forget what could be.

That is not the purpose of humans.

Then the point of all this…?

You are human.

Like everything else,

You interpret what the meaning is.

But the pain—

Is still there

And always will be.

The only way to seek the light

Is to reach out

And grasp it.

At that moment I realized:

My life may be made up of lies

But I’m still here

And I must move forward.

Forward to the light,

And out of the darkness.

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There is no real point to this point. I just wrote it down last night on paper when I was feeling…blahish. I don’t know what I was trying to get out, they were just things that flowed from either my mind or soul to my hand. That’s all I guess…