"Time is never time at all
You can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth
And our lives are forever changed
We will never be the same
The more you change the less you feel"
I am a walking contradiction, a breathing, crappy combination of things which should never be mixed.
I try hard to keep an innocent part of me alive, even though it often leads me to evil. I want to believe I can fall in love, run, touch other's hearts, sing, and take my place in a family of beautiful, free people. I want to believe I can live and not kill, live and not lie, live and not hate. I want to believe and trust that all people are beautiful and that they never change and that at any time, as in heaven, I may again come together with them and laugh and cry and feel all those silly, maybe-non existent feelings I dream up while alone.
But the "realist" part of me- born of disappointment, a certain (very common) look on reality, and circumstances tells me no. It tells me that my childish attempts at preserving anyone's- even my own- purity is absurd. It tells me that no one has purity, purpose, or meaning; it tells me what the masses tell me- I am a fool for believing in a loving God (or a God at all); I am a fool for thinking vegetarianism is an ideal to be pursued; I am a fool for not having sex, drinking, and using drugs because THIS IS ALL THERE IS.
Throw diabetes into the mix, and I'm a true wreck. Before, things were excusable. If I was feeling down- if what may be reality was present within me- I could harden my heart and tell myself to suck it up and find some way to make myself happy anyways. If no friends were present, I could curse the idea of friends. If I had no lover, I could laugh at love and all it's uselessness and be just fine by my own cold self. Now- if life is frivolous- I am obliged to keep myself alive each day. Every day I decide between my own life and my own death. Which shall I choose?
- Does life have meaning, hope, and love that I might strive forward to them and have a reason for living?
- Is life senseless, random, and hardening? Is the only thing I must weigh in upon while choosing to try for life or to welcome death myself?
Yes, I am seeing things in black and white here. But be truthful: is there really any grey area which to take harbor in? Can you honestly say that life should be caring and kind and yet believe that it is a senseless thing? Can a random occurrence, born out of luck and continued on by yet more luck, really have purpose with no outside leader?
The last line of the song I quoted- "The more you change the less you feel"- is one of my dearest mottoes. I have changed, but I have not benefited. I have changed, but in the process, I've largely forgotten how to connect with others, love, or even be sure about who I want to be and who I am. I don't feel as deeply for anything as I once did. Do I care if others die? Yes... But why, I ask myself, and then the conviction fades. Do I care if a beast dies? Yes... But why, I ask myself, and then the world rushes in and says it's okay, it's natural, we all must die, they all must die.
Then let me die! I must die, for that is natural. Is the synthetic insulin I burden the world with natural? No. I fell ill with this disease, which is fatal. Always. Is it natural for any of you to care for me? No. Then stop telling me I should live.