Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Existentialism: A look into the terror of one's Agency.
Here.
I sit amongst the sounds of nature: perverse, immature, doomed.
Here.
I sit listening to the wispy breaths and gentle taps of the clarinet.
Here.
I sit drowning the thoughts of incompetence and meaninglessness.
Here.
Swollen by innate "virtues" of egos. Swollen by the thoughts of a meaning of something more
Devastated by the hypocrisy of It, of it all.
Distracted by the feelings that, maybe one day, someday, It'll all matter.
Overwhelmed by the reality that It never will.
Tears.
Work. Car. Office. Degree. Marriage. Babies. Friends. Handbags. Shoes. Houses. Work. Work. Work
Definitions of meaning in life: without ever asking why this defines Life? "The Dream" of a perfect house, perfect spouse, perfect job, perfect Life.
Life (n): _________________________________
The stark naked cold realism of the existential world,
Surrounded by people. But yet never really there. Somehow always alone.
"This is my life's greatest calling" they say,
yet when the Great Equalizer comes, what was it for?
That desk in the big office, with windows overlooking the skyline? Words on that business card?
Words. Simple markings that somehow have developed into a system of Greater Meaning. Words.
Silly words that fill the page that fill the mind, that fill the heart
what do THEY even matter?
Determination to fill, to read, to think, to pursue, to motivate, to repeat, to use and feel those words, those indiscriminate markings
Its a masochistic endeavor,
tethered by the mere thought of "Yes" and "No"
For even that, after I have seen my last light
and breathed my last breath, what were THEY for?
Freedom begets a structure within which to confine, that begets isolation and the alarming truth of being Pervasively and utterly Alone, within which one can only see IT all was and is meaningless.
"I think, therefore I am" solidifying the perpetual state of the Great Equalizer
of Freedom, of Isolation, of Meaninglessness
In fact, why have any words
s
p
i
l
l
onto
this
page?
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Great and very insightful poem Danielle. Thanks for sharing with us.
ReplyDeleteThat's a great poem Danielle :) But , just edit your blog for better readability :)
ReplyDeleteThanks !
This takes me back to my philosophy classes at my old college. I used to write poetry with the similar frame of mind. "Why are things *this* way?"
ReplyDeleteI hope you find your answer. I used to think that the reason why we survive through certain traumas in life is because we've already experienced it in a previous life. I used to entertain the idea that reincarnation is a means to an end of not making the same mistakes and having peace within our spirit- in the now. Ugh, starting to sound like Eckhart Tolle.
Keep the writing flowing~ very beautiful poem. Blessings~