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| November 23, 2002
, 11:27 AM |
Love for a Life
She walked along the deserted street wondering what the questions were. If she could only define them. Ask them. Try and answer them. A melee of unconnected emotions swept through her each triggered by a different circumstance, memory, thought. Each with an integrity of their own and yet none completely true. Everything she could feel. He had died today. She had loved him. No, she still loved him. But how could she? He didn't exist and maybe he never did. She wondered...maybe it was the idea of him. Was it the way he made her feel? Maybe it was the memory of what he could have been. He was gone. Like quite a lot of things. Like the idea of perfection that went long ago, like the idea of love that she outlived, Like the idea of integrity that seemed so distant now. Like all those dreams that seemed worth it. Like the person she was.
Why exist when existence has no meaning ?...when you know many have come and gone nameless, faceless, without a role in the continuum. Existing their little worthless lives in the hope of a meaning and with a faith kept alive with lies and half-truths. The variables too many and too volatile to be converted into anything of value (if such a thing existed). It felt like a moment of truth in her lies but it wouldn't last she knew. She'd be back into the elaborate chaos seeing, thinking, believing in all those smoke-screens. Pitting her feeble intellect against the variables. Indulging in the futile effort of trying to live her life as if it mattered. It wouldn't matter. It never did. It never would. Waiting for her turn to die seemed like the best thing to do. She caught the next bus home. |
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