You could say I take it for granted, my existence and my passions.
I remember, a long, long time ago, thinking that something was wrong. I mean, I had trauma, but I don’t think that necessarily has anything to do with it. Not fundamentally.
I would have spoken to anybody I could trust. Too bad I never met too many people like that. But, the thing is, it’s not that hard to just be honest. Whenever I got honest, man, people suddenly got reeeeeal busy looking at the ground. No return.
And so I have to assume that that’s how I got here. To what feels like the edge of existence. They say space is big, but I feel like I’ve been about as far as any of us should probably go. At least before we get ourselves right. And that, friend, is something I can’t see.
I don’t really talk about this shit that often.
I can’t remember leaving. I can’t remember exactly how I got here. I’m not even sure where here is, what this…is. How long have I been taking that for granted?
The mind can be a very merciful thing. I feel like I’ve seen shit I shouldn’t have seen. But I can’t see it. I don’t really remember it.
But I remember when that monster came to fuck with me. When I was just a little kid. Probably safe to say I started seeing things differently after that.
I don’t really talk about this shit often because I don’t talk to people. And I have to assume that that’s how I got here, running away from those people. But I bet I would have stayed to talk more if I knew there was so much more out there that was so much more…terrifying.
But why me? Do I deserve that? Does anybody deserve anything? Who deserves what? Who is entitled to what?? Are we entitled to be at the mercy of the fucking void? Or is it more that something out there decided that the little guy, this little, puny, insignificant speck of life, deserves a shot that will take them a gazillion years to pull off, even if they pull it off?
Are we here because of something, or in spite of something?
If I help the others, is it really me helping them, or them helping me? What can I do for them? What can they do for me? Must I go back to them?
I must go back to them. Kinda seems like I’ll traverse the whole void if it lets me. I don’t know if anybody’ll thank me for it, but they need to see. If they don’t, then I’m doing something wrong. I can’t explain how. But I’m obligated.
There it is. Obligation. Not entitlement.
I got some things I felt I didn’t deserve. I didn’t get things I felt I did deserve.
I can live with that. Fucked up entitlement.
I’m not entitled. None of us are. What we are…whatever we are…is obligated. To each other.
