A Myraid of Gnarled Thoughts

      Like some twisted dream I find myself in utter fear and realization of my incessant doublethink when it comes to anything. I indulge in this mutilation almost as if I saw it all as, albeit not harmless, essentially fine to enact and without any serious consequences, though I know very well how I'm destroying myself-- and yet there is the most terrible thing about it! I see this mutilation clearly as the grotesque outcome and direct source of my actions; I never cease to fully comprehend the seriousness of said mutilation which I am not only a victim but part mutilator; nay there is little doubt as to how selectively I may see the future and, according to what I know of it, how utterly fucked I am if I don't act soon; and yet, even with all this passionate belief wrapping around every situation, my body and actions remain consciously ignorant of all the horrors I am inflicting upon myself while my mind, ever vigilant, can only observe from a distance and barley manage to scream at it all, desperately begging for some sort of change to come of its own accord, writhing and convulsing in the agony of absurdity while quietly, almost unconsciously and perhaps even spitefully ignoring quite the beneficial idea of mine in the perplexing name/game of risking how base one's self-laceration could become, as some might say, and though long understood has been this idea in me as well as others, it was vital in 'curing' myself of this sickness within my blood, this inertia of mind and corruption of body all swelling to ridiculous heights-- this idea, though more of a reflection than anything, is easily explained through this metaphor I've made regarding man's condition as standing on the edge of this massive black abyss separating reality from his happiness; divided between the surface of modern society, which is naturally and logically absurd as it is littered with sin, and the opposite surface of eternal harmony made manifest, of true happiness on earth, of spiritual completion and untainted love and ultimate satisfaction with life! Man began with a simple fissure in the ground and the two sides were one, an island amongst endless ocean, yet as the seafloor rose the island grew, and thus did this fissure; soon enough a chasm was born with this black abyss in its belly, and throughout time this chasm eventually split the island in two leaving man, the island's only inhabitant, divided into the two surfaces mentioned above. We all see this abyss, us who haven't been entirely blinded at least, and instinctively suspect something on the other side though we can't even see it due to how much that abyss has grown over humanity's era, leaving us incomplete. And of course one who has come to understand the nature of his situation stands before the ledge peering over that stretching black, helplessly infected by his own sobbing desire for something and his burning jealousy for anything, this man comes to find that the Kingdom was only faintly visible across the void, but visible nevertheless! There is the birth of hope, the beginning of mankind's “childish struggle with an incredibly simple equation”, and in an earlier mankind that type of hope was alive in the form of Gods, blank essence of the Other Side, and, more than anything, those fabled men who had, according to history's scrawls, made the leap from one side of the abyss to the other, and back again; this was an impossibility to those unsure of themselves, ala the majority, as impelled they were by a rapidly swelling sense of logic to believe that leap across the void utterly incapable of any man, despite what may have been said about him or her. Instead they all began climbing down into the blackness with sad, pitiful half-hopes of crossing the bottom of the abyss, masked with hollow enthusiasm I'm sure, (you still following me?) in order to reach the Other Side, the edge of the abyss that only Gods and Angels would peer off of. Into the abyss these cowards went, never to return.          

         We all know how it went. Eventually man found his way to the base of the cliff after loosing himself a thousand times within the void for years on end, and yet, like the utter fool he is, he had forgotten the climbing materials supposedly needed for this daunting ascent, in-fact such equipment was never even considered throughout the entirety of his journey, so he turns away. Destroyed by his own stupidity, man then lies to himself about his impotence and says he shall return later with help and tools and get out of this horrid chasm, thus he begins looking for others wandering inside the abyss to work together, like ants, in the progression towards collectively scaling that great wall with tools and technology and, most of all, faith. Men began sifting about all throughout the abyss itself constructing their hive, adding light and making trails and buildings and cars and microwaves, yet lo and behold just as Man had, after dozens of generations past, finally reached the supposed peak of technology that is believed to be imperative for the great climb, when the tools had become supposedly good enough to make that fateful ascent all those people first living in the dark tried to see; alas now these frail-minded troglodytes, these blinded bottom-dwellers as they came to be through the mutation of living within the unwavering darkness of their abyss, these third-born children of the abyss proved to no longer be men and women working collectively towards salvation from this ever-stretching pit of pitch blackness as their ancestors, who had willed themselves into the void, thought themselves to be and, I tell you this, none of those original seekers had anticipated to be within the abyss so long that their descendants would actually mutate from the void into something pitiful, no longer human with hope and ambition but rather just animals of abyssal mind standing around one another wide-eyed, seeing nothing, absolutely nothing except what remains in their false light and nothing more than an explanation of the darkness beyond, only seen as figures and shadows to ever be pondered upon, even in starvation.
         When I was quite young I felt as if I were peering off mankind's original cliff-side and, looking down into the endless chasm, seeing only the faint yellow lights of those troglodytes down below floating amidst the ever-potent shadow that had consequentially, due to the artificial light, reduced that fleeting image of the Other Side long ago seen as hope into nothing but an incredibly vague and mysterious silhouette in the distance, impossible to recognize if unfamiliar. I've forced myself to become familiar with my ancestors as I had the deepest distrust of those below and upon my futile attempts at communicating our original purpose with everybody, for I made numerous ventures, however reluctant, into the abyssal society ever vigilant of getting lost, and yet regardless of how many cities and bottom-dwellings I encountered not once did I get any response I could take seriously-- shadows amidst shadows now, I thought, and I realized then that I've taken it too far now and must stop fucking around. The humans built and built and built, and then their tower would crumble, only to be built back up again in an entirely different location without realizing that the tower, originally built to help in the scaling of that great vertical wall, served a purpose where it was and now, in this new location somewhere pointless along the dark abyssal plains, it has ceased to serve any purpose whatsoever other than the satisfaction these mutants get from construction of anything, even if it is indeed utterly meaningless and without result. Being the dumb, blind, and terribly gullible creatures they are it is easy for them to get excited over such insignificance, and in their ignorance continually telling themselves, 'I am making progress, I am working with others, and that is all that matters!'
         Here is something for you: absurd suffering, known as the only negative side of absolute absurdity, is born of few peculiar origins and spreads like a ravenous disease from these cowardly analytic types of considerable intelligence who can actually understand the error of our ways and the absurdity of ignoring them, witnessing it every day as one may witness the sun each day, and despite everything I still act in total heresy of this higher thinking, eventually surrendering upon assessing the decision of either spending countless years blindly crawling throughout an abyss hysterically dreaming of reaching the surface on the other side or, as the only other logical choice besides the noose, somehow maintaining the absence of doubt and fear while instead having the unprecedented confidence, the unwavering belief in oneself to faithfully make that fatal leap across this blasphemous chasm-- these cowardly people, as you should already know, will zealously avoid that terrifying leap over the abyss and onto progression, often guiltily turning their trembling heads away before the leap is even measured or anything, rather descending instead, these acute men of logic, fully into the darkness with false hopes of eventually reaching the other side, pathetically deceiving one's self with doublethink theatrics into essentially walking miles upon miles away from our beginnings into an endless sea of pitch black slippery crags where one may then, if he can ever find the Other Side as never found before, make that slow and perilous ascent out of the shadows, the merciless and relentlessly inhuman climb to the surface where one may live in eternal harmony, however old, mutated, exhausted and, as result of countless falls, mutilated one might become.

         Being here, standing at the edge of this abyss, I stare across the all-consuming shadow and can only see the fringes of the other side hardly silhouetted amongst the black void that I've sadly began to anticipate, as said leap, thus consequently the will to make the jump, have become horribly depressing and hopelessly vain fantasies now as this self-mutilation worsens (though mind you I was essentially flopping around in some vat of razor-blades found inside the abyss); I get closer to learn how easy it is to climb back up ... truthfully, I don't even know why this is happening. I came here to say one thing: I think I think I think, I no longer wish to destroy myself anymore, and then I act I act I act-- a heretic of his own wisdom! I'd given up all hope on the leap, but to be honest I used to believe in it, truly I did, though I only believed myself as capable to make it and come back after years of learning. Regardless, I recall having the most immaculate and confident faith in myself when it came to thinking of the future, of my place as a savior amongst those lost and confused, although like an idiot with the crowd I let myself fall into the manipulation of this devilishly clever system of traps and temptations, lies and falsities, and even here, just as I tried to explain before, I can see this manipulation of my poor poor consciousness taking place very perfectly with nothing but sadness and spite in my eyes now, for I had been robbed of my fight. I obviously saw how each time I gave in and bought drugs or spent money on meaningless shit or lost myself in mindlessness (entertainment, school, work, distraction distraction distraction) I was in-fact very openly deceiving myself into submission because it was so very easy to do, and this concept caused me much pain then, and yet thinking back, and thinking about right now, I'm hesitant to call it deception when one remains fully conscious of the situation and its countless variables, constantly analyzing the causes and effects of everything I do, considering every viewpoint of me and everybody else, giving equal opportunity to any situation presented, to every perception presented, and finally, as an example, you see how willingly I torture myself with this fucking shard of madness, knowing very well as I hit it that I'm loosing potential by the minute, that I'm risking future understandings and progress by the hit, all while nonchalantly repressing any and all resistance to the opportunity and then upon any regret I begin convincing myself that I'm unable to realistically do anything about it now as, lo and behold! there is now a light-bulb in your hand, precious cash missing from your wallet, a consistently diminishing sack of tweak laying on the table, and a mind gnarled and tied in knots. I tell you, dear reader, to suddenly catch yourself in the dire grasp of doublethink is quite the sensation, as if you were driving for awhile on the same road and then, out of nowhere, you realize that all the time you've been on this road you were actually driving in the oncoming lane, and as it bewilders you to think you didn't notice this immediately you remember, with a cold shiver, that you did realize it at the very beginning, and even throughout the drive, but simply let the thought, as if separate from reality, pass without effect for miles and miles and miles until it suddenly attacks you, as if waking from a dream. No no no, I wouldn't call it deception, if anything I would call it something of unconscious intention spawned from brief conscious impulses of said intentions, though confusing and suspiciously enigmatic, or perhaps maliciously masochistic, as they may be...
          If sometimes I refuse to find myself 20 years from now still groping about the bottom of this damned blackened abyss, such things I know to be true and of my nature, so I won't do that most of all. I can stay here where I came into existence, that being on the apathetic surface of modern society and mankind, though all those still on this dying surface long since gave up hope for happiness or truth or going beyond anything that logic deemed uncrossable. I really must make a choice already, things have gone too far.