So what to speak about?
I was thinking while in the shower about how I would explain myself, my introduction....
Who I was and who I am. If you want to understand what someone will be in their following years, you must first dissect the person's character in their earlier ones. To grasp what comes before is to know what comes after--the Gift of the Logos. Look up R. Scott Bakker and the Darkness that Comes Before etc. to understand that very simple and basic principle.
So if I am to introduce myself to you, I would go on rambling about my past, and my present. I would begin with my first memories, my old guilts, and then...Then and only then would I move onto the next stages.
I make no claim to fame.
But I also beg and shriek to be known, to be remembered....To be loved.
But if I make no claim to fame, if I don't claim to desire nor to deserve any blessings, why do I seek them thus?
I seek them because I want to make myself sound noble, even though I flood myself with falseness. Falseness and weakness. I coat my scars with diamond, trying to...Trying to what? To strengthen them again?
I coat them with diamond to attract attention to them. I scream and I whimper and I make a bulwark of my misery--just take a look at this blog. Think of all the pain poured into it! All the emotion. All the soul, and all the bitter-sweet memories and lies. I coat my body with diamond so I am sure to be seen, and I dress in black to show my old wounds. The jewellery that adorns my neck, middle finger, and wrists is black, always black....Showing grief. Loneliness. Depression. Sorrow.
Pure, tainted, beautiful, harsh strength.
I am, at my core, strong.
I have gone through hell and heaven, and through it all--I have been strong. And god knows I've broken--god knows I've begged for it to end!
But now I am here again, and I can't speak any more for fear of lying once again.
God knows there is no God.
I believe not in him.
So who do I believe in?
I believe in myself, and I accept no greater power nor strength, no greater reason. All this world is is a beautiful chaos, a sickeningly sweet tragedy....The most beautiful death in the world is the death of the world itself.
And we are all a part of it.
And we weep and howl at our chains, refusing the Masters, the Mistresses....But we are but slaves to the world. If we need a god, then that God needs to be TIME.
Time heals and causes all wounds.
There is no greater force on Earth than the tick, tick, ticking of the clock....
And now.....I must go.
Time is ticking fast.
But I will go with one last futile attempt at wisdom and fame....
And no more. No more than who I am.
No more than me.
And I deserve fame.