Friday, January 18, 2019

Disillusion







 It reaches hard and deep, a searing hot flame without an end, burning every fibre that is me,
striking again and again, a fierce determination hell-bent on a fiery destruction of all-consuming proportions not even the coldest, darkest oceans could quell, this longing to escape from this plane.

I am tired, tired of life, of the falsehoods, untruths, dishonour, despair, loss, dishonesty, cruelty, degradation, subjugation, futility, hopelessness, dire need, callous betrayal, faithlessness. I no longer wish to recite my lines, follow the directions given, read the script as if it were my choosing. I no longer wish to see the steady decline from beauty into disrepair, from flourishing to withering away, from growth and happiness to stagnation and addiction.

I feel the shifting of sanity, subtle bypassed to unashamedly evident, that the world is a stage and we are the players, slaves who pretend nothing is wrong, who anaesthetise our senses and our sight to the dissolution of society, of ourselves, of everything that’s right, there’s no respect in a dying man begging for his daily piece of poison.





7 comments:

  1. Exceptional. I read these words and think of our World as it is today & wonder if I'm the only one to have a vision of it all crumbling around is.

    Ps...I woke up thinking of you today, Ms. V...hope you're well!!

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  2. In all the wrong and horror, I still see hope though.

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  3. Very deep and reflective of our times right now ~ do hope you are well ^_^

    Happy Day to you,
    A ShutterBug Explores
    aka (A Creative Harbor)

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  4. The world is a stage with a live audience, there are no dress rehearsal for the daily acts. We try to deliver our lines and script our day the best we can given what we have. There are protagonists and antagonists in each drama. They are constantly battling for center stage.

    I worry about future events and our world (sigh) may light always remind us there are better days.

    Be well and try to smile :)

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  5. As long as your son is singing and my son is singing … things will be alright, friend Shadow. Much love, cat.

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  6. The disillusionment burns and I can feel your hopelessness and anxiety. I hope that there is light at the end of the long dark tunnel.

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