Archetype

Who am i…..
Am i lost, a wanderer cast out doomed to venture further and further into the wastes of a mind only comsumed by darkness.
To have such capacity for good, and yet so demonstratively brutal a vicious intent. towards hate and artfully disseminated machinations of destruction. I have touched down where others thought not possible, to fall down a bottomless pit only to prove wrong the will of man. To be insane and realize it, truth lies in reality, lying in wait to steal unkempt breaths. fearing time, though time does not exist, but in the mind, an idea, an abstraction, a custom of knowledge, the cadence of curtailed freedoms self expression. Systemic of its intention to breed more dishonest foreboding epitaphs of humanity’s hubris. I have nothing but contempt for the human species, this race of desiccation, greed and monotony. Crude and crueler fates align, eloquently baroque beauty of selfless inhibitions, over arching narratives bleed for bleeding sake. Forgetting the one fact that stakes claim to the heart of true providence, incredulity.
Master of wanting but master of none, narrow your vision, quiet discontentment. Grasp but one thing attainable, to use as steping stones to reach the next trial that awaits.
Who is this…who am i becoming now….
I plug my ears, listening to my heart beating, and yet i can’t feel it, until i think about feeling it. Such a limited mind we have, and we expect of ourselves, to know it all. how many kilobytes of useful knowledge do we possess in this zetabyte ad infinium system we call a mind. Most can’t even string together a few paragraphs worth let alone make a cohesively affective argument. So I guess it could be said I take my literary and standard intelligence for granted; then again I’ve structured a life that can be lived with such ease, an asured fate, that any lesser mind could lead it. so if i had my persistent cumulative intellectual growth halted or even reverted back to a time i still believed in fairy tales, would it really matter. Actually it might bring me some level of peace if thats what i wanted.
Though, what do I want, what is it I’m really after when all’s said and done. What I truly want is in the course of my routine self reflection, to for once, feel that i have something concrete i can offer. When you look under the veil of who i am in the world, this mask i present, you see a depth rarely legitimate in the eyes of this world. I keep relying on my own outdated ideals, to show nothing but let be discovered the real fathoms, the unbridled elation of finding, I am more than anyone thought possible. All this has never brought me happiness. I have only known misery in this life, because instead of the intended effect of discovery of hidden ability, it has only led me to becoming an expert at subversion. And in a world where most can’t see beyond a very narrow margin, I just seem as hollow as I allowed others to see me, as a being devoid of all things, never allowing anyone to discover that, which i have become master at cloaking…….

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