Thoughts and a Poem in Philosophy

Depression is back. But I guess this is life going in full circle again. It seems to be the human condition to be at the bottom longer than being on top. And for this to work some people must always suffer because others are always happy. So does this mean that every suicide leaves someone a happier person. Maybe, I don’t know but if so, (this is going to sound messed up) maybe one day I’ll be the benefactor of that joy. Pen to paper seems to be the only release which sucks because were in a typing age. So finger to keys then.

I know that I’m only talking to myself at this point. Because the person I always wrote to no longer reads this. Sad isn’t it? But I can’t pity or feel bad for myself, it’s against my nature. Another sad mute point at this stage in the game, is that I’m actually in need of someone to talk to. I guess I tired so hard to keep her around because I know of the pain of being alone. The fear of not having someone to turn to.

It must be nice. Having someone to talk to, that you could see once in a while. Or even having that person to begin with. It must be nice to experience life inside a circle of protection. Knowing if you expel someone that they are gone because the others will do the same. It must be nice, not being the outcast of a group. That you know people will always be there. Knowing that the ones who say they care won’t leave you. It must be nice.

I think that was just a bad level of my psychosis. But is it bad? Do we not all have a level of crazy? Is it crazy that I write to myself now, and post it on the internet? I don’t know and because no one will answer I will never know. Isn’t that grand?

For the imaginary reader out there, are you following me? When I die and people go to write about me, will you show them this? Will you tell them my story? When the social network destroys someone else will we learn? No because the social network is the only way some people can communicate. Something destroyed my conversation skills, I believe it to be text messaging and Facebook. It eliminated face time so you can’t even be sure that I (Maurice L. Brown II) is even the author of this blog. Is this a sensible post or a rant?

Would you rather read another poem by me? If you did exist your opinion would matter. Then again you couldn’t stop me from posting it. You would just have to stop reading now won’t you.

 

Lost Soul

Life

What is it?

What’s the point?

Born alone,

Die alone,

Then return to Earth.

What is there for those who don’t take?

Why should those who follow this return?

The lonely soul does not need rest,

That soul needs light,

Warmth and compassion,

If not only for a night,

Then return to a cold bitter day,

Cold sad alone bitter day,

Let this soul not rest in night,

But float until thy soul,

Meets another,

To make a happy soul,

Prepared to give,

So that one can receive.