Alternative to tears. Part 2

My health is declining. I’m not yet a doctor but I’d like to say that the decline is unnaturally heightened, abnormally omnipotent; and as always ignored. The saying, “Ignorance is bliss” has never -been more untrue. Ignorance, on the part of both myself and my family, is hell- absolute hell.

Literally all aspects of my “health” are victims of the atrophying ways of my life. My body aches; it moans under the duress of each step I take. My lungs reveal a hidden belligerence and aid in the perpetuation of my current state. I cannot breath. It’s irrational and its crazy, but I can’t. There is air all around me and I am full control of my mouth and nostrils, yet something within me, an uncontrollable presence, leaves me starved for air. I look at myself, my physical being, and I regret, and I lament.

There is no silver lining.

My emotional being is in a similar state. I’ve given up on love; now taught to believe it: nothing more than a half-hearted promise made between businessmen. Rooted in a selfish desire to avoid ‘loneliness’ and share the numerous tasks of life that adorn our futures. Even hate, my usual scapegoat, has become nothing: Yet another feeling that mandates care and a conscious cultivation on our parts. If love is nothing more than a mutual agreement, why is it so prized? And considered such a blessing? Is not the one that can complete life and all its tasks without the help of another a greater being? A stronger soul? If one can train himself to love- to forego lust and remain committed, to give continuously with the needs of others in mind- can I not train myself to accomplish more? To surpass the hackneyed requirements of the lover and do more? Give more? Get more? Is independence unable to coexist with selflessness, charity and achievement? Or are those the very factors that create it, and give it strength?

For too long has the fairy tale of my latter years acted as the blueprint to my life. For too long have I bought into the standards and ethos my society has set forth- without question and without appeal. What leaves me broken is not my current refutation of such beliefs. I stand firm in my rejection of such tales and will remain unmoved by any appeals to return to ‘what was.’ My emotional state is due to the absence of a successor; no heir to my former beliefs. Instead there is a yearning for some truth and an insatiable hunger for answers and explanations.
Fuck. I just realized I have yet to curse. And so the latter sentence was my simple remedy.

I mean what is catharsis without inappropriateness- so says society. Yet, isn’t expectation of an action merely a sign of its acceptance and tacit appropriateness? Oh life! Oh cultivated life. How I’ve grown tired of you.