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De Facto Otro De Jur
I have learned today that you can take life itself for granted. The subtle and restrained become the most beautiful singularity that tends to be depressing. Promising strangers that you know have the heart to care usually do when you end up telling them that you are going to pass away soon. I never get used to the fact that I wear a face in resemblance to the pain inside, much like an outward manifestation of my worry and sorrow. They ask me what troubles me and I guess I have to trouble them by telling them. After humans have been so cruel and pitiless to me in the past, people finally care about me. Quandary is I'm dieing. I suppose I can enjoy it while I'm still able. After walking that mile alone, feeling the demented, abandoned sadness and light-headed, Katamari-esque happiness, walking the mile with my God, and feeling as though my life is what humans call "fulfilled", I am dieing. Holding back my tears for you, holding those that cry for me, strangers' prayers, strangers' tears, and my own body that will be the end of me. Much like the American dream to modernists, the pursuit of uniform happiness is like living in an Archemidean screw. Lots of ups and downs, but looking for something other than water is meaningless. I don't naturally associate attaining happiness with spitting on a fish, bleeding a rock, world records, threesomes, joining the PTA, or the construction of an Eiffel Tower of waffles. I'm down to earth that way. I'm dieing this way though. Perhaps I'll be really under the weather when I go to hell. Rather heaven, but I'd know a lot more people in hell. Jesus Chirst Is In Heaven. Amen.
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