Now That I Am Here,Why Am I Here?

Now that I am here,Why am I here?

The concept of throwing letters out here to formulate words,to expose myself, in this vast cyber sea of nothingness. Is very foreign and unlike anything I have every done,as I sit and question the fact that I am here.With the questions that are arising as I push keys:Why am I here?,Where am I going?,Who is this for?,and what do I wish to acheive by creating this log of mindless ramblings?

The complexity of my simplistic life shatters the boundries of the realm of reality,or the perceived reality of my existence.My personal perception of my existence is found in the summation of my self,and this would be:"I am an enigma wrapped in an enigma". As I stand on the sands of time,watching the solitude of recollection dip below the horizion making way for the storm of the unkown future,pondering;the age old questions: Who am I?,Why am I here?,and Where am I going?I wonder; do I express this observation;From the inside looking out?,or from the outside looking in? Furthering the confusion of, who is this for?and is it worthy of documentation? Personally I would think not, yet I continue to record my thoughts.

Do I wish the world to see me as me? An even greater question would be, Do I want to encounter the "me" of self?I have walked up to the mirror of the mind through out my journey,not always liking the image I saw, thus making adjustments as the situation dictated. Yet leading to another question; were the adjustments dialed towards the negative or the positive?Am I nothing more than a question? It would seem so.

While walking roads, and opening doors, on a perpetual search for answers. All the while the answers have presented themselves’ as visions of hind-sight,while the concept of fore-sight has evaded me(possibly a lie). All I done is logged a question session, but life is nothing more than a question. Now the decision is at hand,where do I start,and where am I going?

I shall resort to thought,and comtempation in order to return with a focal point.So it is off in to the void of reality for now.

Untitled(for reasons unknown)
 
To myself;I feel such pain;
forgotten sunshine;remembered rain.
Pain….ruthless,bitter,twisted insane;
you think it to pass,yet it remains.

The hurt of a heart,ready to give,
growing tired of the dead;wanting to live.
All seems so useless!
Reaching,searching,but it’s been buried and hid;
frozen in an icy black box with no lid.

I close tight my eyes and say it’s not there.
With blood stained soul I leave you still bleeding;
can it be I don’t care?
In a mirror I scream;it reflects a stare,
it laughs at me softly;its’ secrets unshared.

The face is mine;is there no doubt?
It lied to me though,and it crooned it softly.
Could I have so easily been fooled;denied of truth!
The lie is mine.
"Tell it if you must;
live in your kaleidoscopic lust."

I’m scared I’ll unveil something more,
than my sculptured white bust.
My soul….rotted corruption,
in it I dare not trust.

Why not then spare the cause?
Live to die;fulfill the try!
Is there nothing left of me?
Not a tear in my eye;no reflection.
No substance or self;my well walked dry.
Even my lie a coward;
its’ cry of agony comes no more than a sigh.
I believed the face in the mirror when it smiled a lie!!!!!!

fylthevoyd

Posted by: fylthevoyd

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