Tuesday, April 6, 2010

The Prison

When we are born, we are separate, and alone.

We die, alone.

We go through life alone. We like to delude ourselves by thinking that we can share our life with someone, make them part of our world. But there are things you can't share, words you can't say, things you can't do. Maybe you are not totally alone, but there is still parts of you that only you know about.

And it's not fair to expect people to be a part of your world, when they have their own planets to manage. When we are made up of the complexity of galaxies, nothing is simple or easy. There is no Borg assimilation that will end loneliness.

Sometimes, when the things are bright, life is good. People are amazing, slights can be forgiven, our problems are manageable. Everything is beautiful, being alive is wonderful, even if all you do is look at the sky and think, my god, the sky is incredible and infinite and awesome.

But when things are dark, it is so dark. It is like your whole life, you are digging a tunnel. Sometimes you see a light, and you feel like all the work is worth it. Sometimes there isn't any light, and all you've been doing is digging and clawing and sweating and nothing changes. You are no closer to freedom than when you started out. You stop in the middle of the tunnel, with dirt all around you, the weight of the earth right above you, and darkness everywhere, and you think

Hey. What's the point.
What's the point in going on if nothing is going to change.
What's the point if, no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, good or bad, the result is the same.
I don't know, really. I just know that in our darkness, we are alone, and I think that maybe we should get used to it.

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