What words do you choose first, when everything wants to come out at once?
What words do you say when there is so much and not much at all to be said?
I had wished that I could have said something. Anything. I'd wished I could have given you something from me. But, in a world which has desecrated passion with its obsession with sex. In a world which has killed love, with its mass-produced love-songs. Which has killed beauty with its vicious aestheticism and happiness with its hedonist greed. In a world which has destroyed all traces of human compassion within its humans. Which has given me suspicion, cynicism and scepticism, and with these sceptres of its tyranny, taught me to live in the name of its logical ideologies and civilised ethics. Its reasons and duties based on laws. Laws...and fear, they coerce me with, like an animal. So that I have no faith in the power of my own human will, and in the guidance of a faith which calls to my nature.
In a world, which has commercialised sentiment and feeling, which has left no word untainted in its travesty of a vocabulary, what words could I have used to express myself? How could I have said anything at all, without fearing I would sound hollow and untruthful.
Right now, I am afraid. I am alone. And I am gripped by the enormity of knowing I know absolutely nothing.
Sitting with you, during those last hours, holding your hand and watching as you walked away, I felt something which does not belong to me. In spite of all the certainty the reason and the logical convictions which feed a stone composure in the depths of me, I was possessed for those moments and it made me weak.
Now I am filled only with the knowledge of all my inadequacies and shortcomings. Now I am empty and at a loss for what to feel, think or do. To me -the me I have learned to hate yet endure with the wave of disillusionment which has long since hit these shores- you are nothing. But this power, this spark which maintains my existence, ached when you left. It ached to be torn away from its likeness within you...and I was frightened by the presence of something there, which I didn’t know existed. It is gone again now, to some place where I have no access to it at will, to the one whom it belongs to. But I am glad I said nothing. That I gave you nothing hollow, no commercialised expression of sentiment, from the fake, empty self I've become, to better integrate into this cold world. I am glad I was silent and stupid, and that you were silent, and that we didn't presume to define what was not, and can never be, ours.