Wednesday, February 9, 2011

[R] Baby Grand - Billy Joel

'Sup

Sometimes I think I'd be better off if my life really just collapsed around me once again. Why? Because after it's collapsed the worrying is gone, the stress dies, and it's just you and your wreck of a life. I've come to the conclusion that it's much harder on the soul to struggle against the weight of the world to maintain some semblance of sanity than it is to just let the world burn. And yet I'm not all too sure about that. The act of actually pulling away your supports is either incredibly difficult, or stupidly easy. It depends on the situation at hand.

It's funny. I stand here in what I've salvaged of my existence and see that nothing that surrounds me remains in even semi decent condition. I seem to have this natural affinity to destroying everything around me at least once before accepting it. The strongest pillars I've ever crafted were mere roadblocks in my path, anhillated only to be painstakingly rebuilt as a shadow of their former selves. It's a dreadful sight, really. There's this one particular object in this framework of my life that once shone beautifully, it's light too blinding to actually recognize what it was. Now it's in ruins. It's base remains, but not much else is still recognizable. I never knew what it was, and something tells me I'll never know it's original shape either.

Around it are all kinds of ruins. Some of them I clearly remember their original shape, some I don't even remember they ever existing, I just see the remains and can't quite even begin to place where it was, when it happened, or what it was. Truly a dreadful sight. Because even without knowing what they were, their materials show great promise. If only they were still in one piece.

The walls of this building are a patchwork of who knows what. Very little remains of the original walls, instead replaced with fitting remains of past mistakes and errors. It's not a proper use for the lessons they hold, but it's the only use one such as me has for them. Superficial and aesthetic purposes, that's really it. Not really worth much more than that anymore.

I can't seem to let go of the remains of the beautiful unknown though. I've been trying to find it's old outline, rebuild it piece by piece like as if it was a million piece jigsaw puzzle, to no avail. Every piece I hold fills my very being with pain, and a longing replaces it when I wrongly place it. I can feel it slipping away with every misstep, but still I try. My hands bleed, my tears have long since ran out, my legs refuse to give up, my eyes grow incapable of staying open, but still I push forward on this mystery. I don't know why I'm trying so hard, but if I look away from it for even a moment, I feel the icy grasp of despair wrench itself unto my existence and tighten it's hold. I don't know if it's the promise of it's former beauty, or simple foolishness that causes this though.

But it's been too many times that I've just let good things remain as they are after I went berserk and let time wither away the evidence. I can't let something else slip through my fingers without a fight. I need to hold my ground and trudge onwards through the depths of what may come. Whatever trials and tribulations may head my way will be worth if it I succeed. And I have to try. I can't pinpoint why. I just know I have to.

And yet running away and just leaving it like any other is always an option. It's the hardest option to resist. It's hard to resist because of my destructive nature. Why? Because in order to give up on it, I'd have to destroy a half dozen other presences in the room. It's like holding a hot dog in front of a fat guy on a treadmill. The temptation is so great that sometimes I feel the greatest struggle is not in rebuilding, but preventing myself from destroying what remains. But it is such a sweet temptation that I often feel too weak to stand up to it. If I were to slip and go on another rampage, nothing would remain except dust on this open plain. I'd be forced to rebuild from the start. Except I wouldn't rebuild this time. I'd let it all stay dead and move on. If nothing remains in the horizon then I'd be able to claim the title lost soul, were I to send it all to hell once again.

I don't know which is harder, holding it up or letting it collapse. I really don't.

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