I see so many people,
Who carry their dread,
Like concrete umbrellas,
Up over their heads.
No time for sunlight-
Preparing for rain.
Ready to fight-
But not to feel pain.
All wrapped up in themselves,
Discontent with their lives,
Like they’re owed something else,
Than a good day to die.
Awareness floats on an eternal sea,
A glittering instant of consciousness ,
Vibrating between unrealities,
On a firmament of impermanence.
For no reason deciding to spring up from the ground,
As we careen through an exploding universe.
We spend our time trying to tear each other down,
The hue of our flesh sacks determining what we’re worth.
The earth is our mother and my ancestors are there,
I’m not scared to die as I was born- screaming and naked-
To love life as a moth loves fire is to live a prayer;
I am terrified of the moment being wasted.
Hope and freedom are not found
Behind the illusion of truth.
Look to Prometheus bound-
Who cares little to nothing for Zeus.
“A fool thinks he will live forever if only he can avoid a fight, but old age will bring him no peace, even if weapons do.” Havamal 16
My favorite account of the Prometheus legend is one told by Joseph Campbell in which the chained titan is given a chance to be released if only he apologizes to Zeus. Prometheus looks up at the messenger and says “I care little to nothing for Zeus. Let him do as he likes.” The universe is literally ripping itself apart, relentlessly expanding until it reaches a point where it will spring back on itself and relentlessly contract back into plasma before exploding out again into a new cosmos of stars and planets and creatures who worry about things like taxes and hair color. (As far as we know anyhow.) Not only will everything we think is important be destroyed beyond a trace, even our concepts of permanence and value have no place outside of the limited context of our own time and space.
The key to finding enjoyment in a life which is ultimately devoid of inherent meaning is to focus rather on the mechanism used to determine meaning itself- this strange, dubious gift of self awareness, this X factor that makes us cry at sunsets and be kind to each other, that leads us to ask questions and paint paintings and write poetry.
We need to learn to follow the example of Prometheus and determine our own value rather than accept our subservience to the machinations of power.
The worst thing that will ever happen to you is going to happen. The best thing that will ever happen to you will also happen. You can control neither.
I used to think optimists were simple minded or had just not suffered very much yet for some reason, but it’s only since life has really kicked the **** out of me a couple times that I can truly say I’m an optimist. I’ve learned to trust my ability to heal rather than my ability to avoid pain.
Having made a conscious decision to participate in life, don’t shy away from the painful parts. You don’t walk into a boxing ring and not expect to get hit in the face a couple times.
So **** it up, buttercup. Smell the roses, fight for freedom, make this lonely ruthless life **** a little less for someone else, or do whatever makes you smile sometimes while you can. Whatever you do, don’t spend your life trying to save yourself because you’re *******. Like the brave Lakota warriors said before charging into battle against overwhelming odds-
“It is a good day to die.”