This is a story. Not of my life as it were, but of what i feel is my destiny. A lot of people dont believe in destiny. Underneath the american ideal, the capitalist dream, lies the guiding principle of meaninglessness. That we are nothing, that no individual makes any more difference in the world than a speck of sand in an ocean floor.
All my life, i have lived with that pain, i have seen it reflelcted back to me in the eyes of my fellow man, everyday. The hopeless stare of someone who feels that he is pre-destined to nothingness.
But all my life, i have carried something else with me. A glimmering, fragile spark, a speck of light casting a shadow on the endless void. I dont care what you call it, god, the spark of genious, the spirit of man, but i have seen it too. Buried, burned, screaming in pain, bloody, violated, desecrated, but always, there is that spark of light. And sometimes, i see it, screaming to be free, desperate for release in a world where we are taught to bury our pain, our joy, everything that makes us human. I see it in others, when they share thier dreams, thier lives, and for a second, they are no longer merely playing roles they think define them, they are who they choose to be.
It is this light, and this darkness, that has followed me through my life, my eternal companions as i wondered through the night like a madman alone. They touched me even as i searched for the most desolate, barren places i could find in this urban nightmare we call civilization. I walked through parks alone, as silent as if i were native to the darkness. In my own way, i guess i was. I would feel a pull, and if you saw me wondering the night, you would have seen a far away look in my eyes, as if some great eipic was unfolding in my mind.
But my mind was choas, pain, hatred, rage. Blood, bones, and ashes. I stuggled with my pain, and to me, my pain became my destiny. I felt as though i was chosen, to be a life shaped by tragedy. I knew, that when i was pushed into a corner, when there was no where left to turn, that i could not turn away from the darkness. It was nothing so arrogant as to believe i had some godlike power, or was some grandious hero, it was, and is, simply my nature.
In others minds, this is where the hero sets upon some great task, realises his destiny, and there is a great joy as he emerges victorious. But knowing that i couldnt turn away, that through my own nature, i was doomed to carry a part of my pain alone for the rest of my life, sent echoes of torment down to my soul. No matter what happens, no matter what came of my life, a part of this would follow me until the day i die, and there was no way to change that.
I was besiged by a world driven by apathy, where those closest to me were also my tormenters. I saw no escape from my life, no way to fix my broken world. When every uncaring face pissed on your dreams and denied your pain, that when you know you are in hell. It is not a place where flames burn your flesh, it is a state, on earth, where black flames ravage your soul. If there is a god, then it is not a man in flowing white robes, it is not an entity we can percieve or worship. The only truth there is, is that you are god. Everything is its own truth, and we are all that is or needs to be, flowing through eternity forever.
Those who take comfort in niahlism are lucky, in that eternity is more terrifying than oblivion. I know that what we do, the choices we make, echo throughout the infinite. And my worse nightmare was that somehoe, no matter what i did, no matter what i tried, my pain would control me forever. I was terrified, that one day, I will fall, and surrender to the darkness.
I knew the kind of monster i could be if that was what i chose. I knew, because i saw what others turned thier backs on. I saw the children being slaughted in veitnam, I saw the Jews lining up to be gassed. I saw the pain that ate away at people when they thought no one was looking. I saw a homeless drug addict living next to dumpsters, i listened to him tell how the police beat him and destroy their meager possesions. I saw the dirty meth bar my mother spent all her time at. I watched one of my friends run away, watched him do nothing after he was dragged by two police behind a vw bus and beat him in front of a group of teenagers. I saw the bruises across his neck, and the shame in his eyes. I watched because i felt that this was my plight. That everyone touched by this great darkness, this thing that we have sought to deny in ourselves, was forsaken. I know that of those i used to consort with as an adoleescent, the majority have fallen into thier fates. They will never break the addicitions, the cycles of pain, the agony of being forsaken.
It is their fate, and my choice, that led me to believe that my fate was to be the hand that kept hope alive, that i would never allow myself to give up on the forsaken, even if they have given up on themselves. If this choice killed me, led me to a life of pain and misery, i could still never turn away.
What i feared, what i understood, is that there would come days where the only choices left were to deny myself, or suffer in ways that i was not sure i could survive. I flirted with death constantly, but i knew that was not who i was, that i could not run. My days up until now have been waiting. Waiting for my mind to break, waiting for my soul to become like the pain that surrounded me. Waiting for death to snatch me away, waiting for myself to finnally give in. Waiting. And in a deep, sheltered part of my mind, protected from the ravages of my thoughts and emotions, my anger and sorrow, i dared to hope.
It was this hope that drove me to dream. To believe in a world where peace and love flowed through us all like a tital wave. A world where that which was blighted, grew anew, that which was ravaged, was made pure. And i know, that if we are ever to see a light to contrast this darkness, then it is US who must make it so. No divine force, no judgement from the heavens. Those who choose apathy must be shown the way, and the only way is to lead by example. I will not hate those who have hurt me, I will show them the compassion they have denied me. That is who I am, and if that carries me to the history books, then so be it. If it does not, all the more important that i believe, to shine the light for one who will. If not being content to watch my fellow human beings, fall into a hell of thier own choosing makes me a leader, then thats what i will be. If fighting for those who have been cast aside makes me a hero, then i hope for our sakes, we all live up to that ideal. If not, then i will stand by someone else, i will not allow anyone who offers me thier hand to be alone in thier struggle.
That is what our heroes teach us. That if wish to live in a world of our choosing, then each of us must be a hero in thier own right. That the only king is the common man, that the only pain is that which we choose for ourselves. To love is to suffer, and that is the choice we must make.
If you cant find your way out of the darkness, then take my hand, and maybe together we can find the light in ourselves.