karma

how much will i have to pay? are tears or apologies the right currency? how many hours must be given to remorse or doubt? how many lifetimes must we live? tell me the measure of time, the measure of my debt.
surely i have done horrors before to deserve such punishment. but i do not remeber these faults. all i can recall in this ephemeral passage of millions of seconds, are particles of  troubled memories. relative spaces and places that no longer generate force and drive.
if such pain is the norm, why should i bear this burden? who bestows upon me such grievance? how can i get rid of it, or to aspire a cathartic effect in redeeming myself? if that is needed at all.
so far i always felt this everpresent omen because in the end, what we are is what we have done before; and as is his will, so is his deed; and whatever deed he does, that he will reap.

egotistical

while trying to rise above the murky water that we call humanity and look into the surroundings, it is  harder to recognize a proper landing place or a safe haven. times were that wherever you drifted to, there seemed to be a harbor, a place to welcome you, a good natured welcome, an honest handshake, a polite courtesy.

and if today that is no longer, while we observe this bleak, inhospitable grounds where we stand, we remember the foretold prophecy, the ever so expected outcome that we had already forseen. as good liars we are we simply turned a blind eye and procrastinated on the faint and vain hope that it would all go away.

it was us who poisoned the well upon these new generations eagerly drink from. it was us who did not push further enough our own responsibilities to provide a better future for ourselves. but we keep on opening the crevasse where upon the beliefs lie, withdrawing ourselves from the benefit of many to bask in the profit of one, regurgitating our ideas of wealth and well being for all to see and follow. lying in dormant states waiting for our time to be fed and validated. forcing and consuming, rearranging and destroying, vilifying and deifying our own virtue of humanity, the same that nurtured our existence.

but do not expect me to bring forth any answers. just call me prophet of doom, call me pessimist, call me any other ill fated name as i will scoff these words for i have become what i advise against. for whom who has already lost his hope i have no fear in passing judgments as my sentence is already written; and like any other one of us, i tread the same path, willingly locking my chains to the next beside me, slowly counting the days to my oblivion.

bile

it makes me cringe in disgust, it makes me clench my grip and feel the muscle fibers in my hands cry hatred. i always preferred the physical agony over the mental disconfort. therefore i am willing to suffer to purge your existence from my sight and mind, i am willing to pull my entrails inside out to breakaway from what ever shackled us together.
this spear that has run through my innermost secrets, now serves as a token of perseverance, and the lashes of the whip will only serve my ultimate purposes.
bowing down to no one, i'll muster what is left of my courage and will to excise this foul appendix, to let me exorcize your demons from me.