Or perhaps, just continuity.
The Cycle continues. The struggle of man has now made itself crystal clear to me, not that I have necessarily experienced it, but I observe its effects continue to dictate this acursed reality.
Why is it that when things look like they are getting better for me, my soul eventually makes me miserable for it? Like such change shouldn’t be taking place? I wonder, if this is commonplace and just part of the experience of life, or something you just get used to. Even now, as I look myself in the mirror, and see positive change in my body and my life, a particular thought keeps floating back to me:
“I am becoming the very thing I swore to destroy”
Humorous as it may be, this feels very true. Self development. That shouldn’t be scary, right? Or am I just afraid of this change? This question continues to bother me greatly. Perhaps this is why Alexis Carrel said that
“To progress again, man must remake himself. And he cannot remake himself without suffering. For he is both the marble and the sculptor.”
Not all has changed, however. Its compeling to see that with all of this change, my values remain the same, this is very reassuring, it means that whatever the form or situation, i’ll still believe in the same thing. What i’ll say next has bothered many people around me when I told them, but my preferred way to die would be in the line of fire, fighting my enemies and giving my life for what I believe in. After all, there is no point in living a lie, in just accepting the twisted reality we are given, this is what motivates me in the morning, this is why I lift, this is why I work, socialize and make friends, because I’d literally rather die than to live a lie, or as a slave.
In broader terms, however, even as explict crises begin to settle, greater ones lie at the horizon. Maybe it didn’t need to be like that, maybe someone or something are guiding this reality to darker states.
Yes, as reality darkens, and all around us crumble, as if the walls of a tower collapse while we are inside it, my spirit feels, at the same time, crushed, but taunted as well. The Cycle makes it so that the collapse is either slowly killing me, or motivating me to get up, to fight. To hell with it, I will destroy myself before I am forced to accept being burried by the rubble, i’ll face these dark demons face to face if necessary, and spit right at their pride, for even in death, I deny them.
I feel, I think, I revolt, I’m alive, etc