Goodbye

(…)
the last words I will tell you
will come out of my heart.
They will be as sweet as your look
as magical as your touch
as special as you.

(…)
the last dream we will share
will have something to do with a picture from ouf of this hell
will reveal itself as some form of recognition of a wonderful reality
hidden in our tears.

(…)
the last time I’ll tell you goodbye
you aren’t supposed to cry or to be scared
because nothing will be truly saying goodbye to you
I’ll have been dead for a long time
I’ll have been filthy for a long time
you’ll have nothing to say goodbye to anymore
because I will already be lost to you,
lost to anyone.

Do you know who watches me everynight while I sleep?
Insanity watches me, it wants to touch me
it wants me to belong to it
ans sometimes I feel like surrendering
I feel like holding it
I feel like drinking its poisoned wine
I feel like giving up
my fucking teleological hopes
and becoming a part of this sickening eternity
which embraces everything.

(…)
so when I say goodbye to you
don’t cry and don’t regret
you’ll be losing nothing
the man who is writing this
will surely be dead
when I’ll say goodbye to you.
The singer who I was
the poet who I was supposed to be
the dreamer who I intended to become
will all hold themselves
and share a unique moment,
a sad, torturing, terrible moment.
The moment when one who loved life more than any other
choose to give up it
with no further regret.

(…)when I say goodbye to you
you’re not to cry for me
you’re to cry for you
you’re to cry for all of you.

(…)
(Life is nothing,
life is exactly what it seems to be
a waste of time.
We’d better have never been born.
That’s my tragedy)

A goodbye can be an ending to a past and a beginning of a different future.

The first step out of despair is through a relentless love for self, anger at an imperfect world and a curiosity about tomorrow and all the things that are but have never been perceived.

When all expectation ceases and hope is finally burned away by sorrow, a new dawn comes full of wonderment and freedom, full of glee.
Then all the ‘what if’s’ and the ‘maybe’s’ and the ‘should’s’ are replaced by an indifference that leads to the precipice of nihilism.
This precipice is where all freedom, all restlessness and intellectual integrity leads.
Those that have never come here have never thought, have never felt, have never been anything but automatons of conformity and normality.

There, before this precipice, stop….take a deep breathe and realize that where no tomorrow matters and all yesterdays are meaningless, the here and now remains, the adventure of living remains.
The sensation of being alive, of seeing, of hearing, of tasting, of feeling, of smelling of being you, of being something different than the multitude of morons that grasp upon myths and hopeful expectations and gloss over the emptiness with whatever means their culture and their religion readily provides them with.
Then life changes from a ‘you must’ to an ‘I must’, from a mission to a game and from an existence of expected choices to a day to day surprise.

It is then that you will find yourself cut off from the herd. Alone and lonely, while surrounded by the myriads of regurgitating idiots that just follow the lead and chant merrily as they are taken to the slaughterhouses.
It is then that solitude and the burden of liberty will hit you first.
Freedom isn’t only powerful it is miserable and few have the capacity to endure it.
What did Sartre say?
Freedom is one of those words people mouth as if they knew what it meant because they know the definition of the word given in a dictionary. But those that sense it that know its repercussions and consequences learn to dread it as well.
But once the fruit is bitten there is no forgetting or going back.

It is in this freedom that you realize that now you are on your own.
Even those that are like you cannot share in it, because it is yours and nobody dictates the rules here but you.
Here you create value and define worth. Nobody else’s opinion matters, because if it did, you would become a slave to that other once more.
Here you decide what your goals and your motives are. Here you decide what standards will be used to measure man and self.

Now before you decide if you should jump or walk along the precipice, trying to balance between the void and the solid ground, look around.
See the dolts and herbivores munching on their fodder, perfectly contented in breeding and enjoying the grass just a few step away from nothingness and yet unable to see it or denying to see it.
See their cowardice and need. Know their feebleness, because it is yours, even if you have managed to overcome.
Watch how they justify themselves, how they pretend to be something other than animal, while behaving in the manner of beasts.
Watch them socialize and reach and explain and copulate and then infuse their every action with meaning and purpose and value.

See now.
The game begins.
Do you see how vulnerable and docile they are?
Do you see how terribly domesticated they are, to a degree where they are ripe for harvesting and exploitation?
Do you see now why they insult and gather in groups and groom each other and cast aspersions towards you?
Do you see why they fear reality and yet are mesmerised by anyone with the balls to utter it in public, openly and plainly and honestly?
Do you see why they need labels and words denoting illness and deviance?
Do you see why they live superficial lives even while speaking words of depth and understanding?
Do you see?

Now the sorrow ends.
The sun is up.
It is time for fun.

“I fear nothing I hope for nothing; I am free” Nikos Kazantzakis. :imp:

Fabiano, I feel like a shit, the way I responded to you in the Mud thread.

This is a painfully sad, lonely poem.

Fun?

You are to be joking.

No problem guy, I was also aggressive. As you see from this poem, it doesn’t matter anyway. Regards,

Fabiano.