Leave Something for the Archaeologists
el Minya
2003-02-23 8:15 pm
In the Halls of Valhalla, where the brave may live forever:
It's kind of like your soul is starving. When you sit at "home" day in and out, and just stare at the place. When your "home" is not a home to you at all. Constant failures and constant disappointment and constant fear. What do you do when you can see no end in sight? There is just this insurmountable barrier that, if crossed, gives way to a neverending drop that you always suspected, but never quite saw coming...
So how do you get out of this? Only two options exist - two methods of escape. You could just leave one day, don't say goodbye, venture out with no destination, and never look back (Choose Life.) Or, you could write some long and drippy letter and decide to never wake again (Choose Entropy.)
But the problem is, both choices are so damn scary that there only ever seems to be one choice (Choose Inertia.) Go back to your wet pillow and dry cereal, go back to your TV set, and all your plastic gods. Take some Prozac, and shut up like the rest of us.
But somehow, the scream that you're holding inside never goes away.
Once, I had thought that I was somehow special, that my life would not turn out this way. Even now, my inclination is to fight. But my sword rusts in the mud that was once the path before me.
What gets me the most is that I could die here, and this could be my last memory of life.
And I never would have gotten out of this god damn city...
