And... inspiration

Another strike of invisible lightning. An outburst of non-existent fire, again. It's right here, inside of me.

A lot of people say I'm too harsh on myself. I expect too much out of me. I'm doing alright.

It's not true. It is, by their standards. Yeah, I'm alright. But the standards I was born with, the exceptional talent, the unbelievable fire within, the anger, the persistence, to win every battle that is out there to be won, I might very well be wasting it all. Why?

Why?

I really don't know. I have these phases. I think everyone does. Mine are just a little too erratic, too extreme; my mindwork could probably be responsible for it, but I take immense pleasure in being everywhere, at least once in my life - from right there on top, to rock bottom with a drilling machine in my hand, and every other place there is in between the two extremes. I won't deny, I like the extremes far better.

It's strange how sometimes nothing inspires you. I mean when nothing actually manages to inspire you. I don't know how to say this.

Maybe something inside me just said, "Listen dude, fuck off. It's enough! Let's get the fuck up and get back."

It's a sorry excuse for escapism - what I, and a lot of other people give and eventually actually start believing for it to be a more peaceful way of life - "I can't find what I'm looking for. I'm still searching."

That's bullshit. The only reason we haven't found it yet is because we have no idea what we're looking for. And we're too chicken shit to find out what we really want coz we're shit scared we just might find it...

And then what, we'll wonder.

I don't know when I started believing we all were meant to reach our respective destinies. A lot of people (the dumb ones, but questioning is a human right, so it's fair) counter, that even though your destiny is planned you still gotta work towards it, or change it for that matter.

It isn't right. This is of course my opinion, it has to be, but it makes complete sense to me, that when we begin to drift away from what we're really supposed to be doing, something, or in my case, nothing just suddenly shakes us up, out of the fuckin blue, to put us back where we belong.

It's really easy - life. We just make it tough. Sure, there's a lot of sadness in life. Loneliness and all that crap. It's crap. But it's easy. You just gotta hang on till you die. You'll see where you were meant to be.

Trust me on this one, and I ain't bullshitting, I say life sucks, and I mean it. People ask me do I regret being born, and I can't answer that question. It's a bullshit question. I could have answered it, if I knew of another option but life. I don't know what death is all about, what happens after, where, what, how and all that jazz. Shit. Life's all I know.

I can't possibly regret it.

But I do know, I sometimes try to deny it though, but life's a super-ride. You could either dig your head into someone else's stomach through out the damn thing and believe it was the biggest mistake you got on it, or it got on you. Else, you could spread your arms and scream at the top of your lungs, out of the sheer thrill or fear of it.

I don't know which category I belong to. I've switched my stance so many times over the past few years of my youth, that it's left me a little confused. But if I really were to answer that question, I'd say, I had my arms wide open, I was screaming in joy, in thrill, in fear.

But then, I got a little bored of screaming too long. Of enjoying it. So I shut the fuck up, and dug my head under my chair for a while.

And now, I'm fucking bored of this. I wanna spread my arms once again and see how fast the coaster's going. I woulnd't lie, I've missed the scenery outside, the speed at which objects travel past you. The tingling sensation in my tummy. The joy of fear - that will this be the day?

Although I already might have, I am nobody to preach. Yes, that 19-year-old boy, was. But back then, no one would take him seriously, and to be honest, he was just too bindaas to even give a fuck if you listen to him or not.

But from the experience of being that 19-year-old boy once upon a time, I'll tell you one thing: The true joy of life really comes from standing on Rock Bottom looking up at all the people who've never been there, and while all of them are looking down at you, laughing, you casually take a sip of your beer and say, 'Fuck you assholes. I'm on my way back up.'