In The Midnight Hour

Only by forces beyond my comprehension was I able to make it through the night. Throughout the midnight hour my mind was plagued with incessant existential questions. Is there any logical reason to keep going. I think not, but what can we do? We’re all just slaves to our desire for survival. We’re still primordial creatures fixated on a constant cycle of processing our nutritional, and hygienic necessities. Will technology break this curse, or will it be our downfall?

Oh, how silly is the mind and how it troubles the vessel that it holds in absolute slavery. I’m convinced that almost everyone I really know has never liked me, and not even for a second. I wish there was something I could hold onto; there is nothing left for me in this world except survival. I’ve had many of stalwart companions who have been faithful alongside me in my darkest hours, however fortune has deigned to let them all pass between this world and the next.

Pointlessness, pointlessness, everything is pointless. Why am I conscious does it even serve a rational purpose at all. What is death? Is it release or is it damnation? Will all of my deeds be weighed upon a scale to see if I am of good standing? However, I do wonder if the circumstances under which I made those decisions will also come into careful consideration of when my fate is being decided? So many unanswerable questions and unseeable possibilities that plague my mind at night without respite: I wish I could write; write, write, until I no longer have the might, but do I even possess this right? A blessing, and a curse often live on the same boulevard.

The utterances of false prophets have blinded the masses while also making them glad in their madness. What life is theirs, for even that of the affluent is it not all for naught? Eventually in all of our lies, shall the truth be exposed against us. Has the door been closed on my life or has it never been open to begin with. To become a father is for your life to end so that another may begin. Sometimes all that anybody needs is a good night’s sleep. This however I have trouble accomplishing for my heart is so heavy, and my mind is so weary.

One of the possibilities which leaves me in perpetual uncertainty is if my inertance will be taken away from me. I have no plans for my future because of my current situation allows me no ability to act urgently, nor does this condone the use of my personal agency, or what is left of it. I struggle to find valid reasons to keep going. I am a shell of a man with no congruent life plan, at hand; it would appear to most that I am damned, for my career and its respective prospects have proven to be just one big sham

I have taken it upon myself to search for truth, and to once again perform an exhaustive examination of the word of God. For my mind is hungry for knowledge, my conscious is thirsting for wisdom, my soul yearns for understanding, and my heart seeks after truth. In the beginning something came from something; for something cannot come from nothing. For if something came from nothing that means that nothing itself has transitioned into something; meaning that nothing is indescribable, or that something is all powerful, or if not all powerful, something is all attainable and contractable for all things have sprung from it. Is the cycle of universal creation like that of a Pandora’s Box bursting with a chaotic disordered order. It certainly seems to be the case, or may it be that there is an overall purpose for such a magnificent creation, and we are unable to comprehend a design of such intensity and grandeur, or are all of these ponderings a waste of time?