I’m in my evanescent existence on this earth we claim our own, have been constantly struggling to fathom the reason behind which we came about to exist and continue to do so.  It is a question that I have yet to come near its answer. Needless to say, it has been consuming every inch of my dysfunctional ecosystem, I’ll be bound.

It is a mere matter of how and why. The latter is I have come to realize to be the most esoteric, not only due to the value it holds but it is quite the opposite for I, in my humble opinion, keep in mind it is nothing but a passing cloud in my serene of a mind, think that our existence is ‘pointless’. Allow me to elucidate why I think that. For one, we are given no clear purpose to carry on our existence. We do not have a raison d’être or a desired result to fulfil, not even a prophecy or a myth to hold as an excuse.

For two, it has been passed on to us that there always must be a ‘why’, chances are there isn’t and that is thought provoking because to my eye, we humans like justify everything we do in order to enhance our self-worth and feed our egos. We overvalorize our worth and we forget that we are nothing more than mere flesh and bones, primarily ‘descending’ from animals to which we attach little to no importance falling into the deception that we are superior to them which is beyond awry, yet we continue to live the lie and turn a blind eye to the bitter truth. I am afraid no word is able to describe this case than a clean havoc. You’d think it to be contradictory and it sure is but isn’t that what we are, isn’t that what our existence is all about: oppugnancies. Hyperbolically speaking, life is a chaotic mayhem.
Realistically speaking, life is a chaotic mayhem.

We may never come close to decipher it or unravel its essence.

I believe we are living proof of that; humans speak volumes of this esotericism.  We, having been derived from life, struggle to meme penetrate ourselves. When queried we fail to gloss and when failed we query a gloss, but little do, we know life is not reciprocal. You give and seldom that you are given in return.

This is often a cause of dismal to many who were never imparted about the masked face of reality. But one cannot flee reality for the eternity of age for everyone is bound to face it soon or later. Shock sets in, fear lingers and the aversion one has been holding onto is set free and with it a set of heavy weight is emptied. Albeit belligerent, reality calls a truce and lays some rather convenient choices to which one is compelled to opt from.

She makes it seem like you have choice when really you don’t.

It’s binding that you choose and no, choosing not to choose is not amongst the few choices laid in front of you.

In the midst of what seems like a state of complete bewilderment and full on puzzlement, not to mention the terror that possesses you and takes over the entirety of your body, you find yourself opting for the most hellacious of them all; you find yourself within a hair breadth of giving in to this mire, your spirit is sundered between the reality you so deeply loathe and the illusion of a happier place to bide in. Amid this cleaving of the soul, a meticulous inspection is made followed by a paramount deduction. The latter is then inked on the walls of one’s consciousness with no anticipation of healing or fading it away. The irrevocable damage is done, and its upshot will forever haunt, hinder and hamper one’s existence.