I'm coming to grip with it all...
My desires, my dreams (those I remember, that is)
I think I'm going to take up hunting, though I'm not really a fan of shooting animals, I have an overwhelming desire to watch life pass before my eyes, by my doing.
A strong need to allow this shadow to continue and develop, to grow in a controlled environment.
I want to witness it again, and again. It's pure beauty to be retained in my visual memory forever, over and over. To watch as such an animate, flowing object to turn so motionless and meaningless before me, by my hands. The violence being only a small portion of it, it's action itself being the satisfying motion.
It really is beautiful, though. To watch something that, for one moment be so full of life, full of purpose and meaning, fueled by belief and desire, trust and devotion. To see something move so fluidly simply, perfect in it's physical creation, turn into a pile of rotting elements, a mere mound of matter. Just more lifeless existence that feeds life. In the blink of an eye, the fraction of a second. To be the ultimate arm of an idea one moment, and completely nothing the next. Like watching an empire in full fast forward. A collapse of ideas, a failure of belief.
Death can only be the answer, with such a question as why. When we all wonder whether there is a heaven or hell, only through death can we be certain. And I want to give that to something. I want someone to understand the weight of their existence. I want to understand it.
If death truly is the answer, or at the very least the only remaining step to finding the answer, then death must only be the beginning. That life itself is truly meaningless, save for what we chose to impose. That we only create ideas and theologies to answer the age old question of why, either way, when it's only answer comes to us at the end, what is our true meaning while we breathe?
Want to know the worst part of taking a life? It's not what you destroy, it's not what you feel. It's that burning desire to look at the fresh corpse and ask what they see, and stand there for a moment in vain hope that they can respond. In vain hope that you can learn the truth before you pass.
Observe the options. We live to praise a god, we live to continue living, we live to pursue an advancement of life itself. We live due to chaos, that through a series of random and seemingly unrelated events we have come to exist. Of all options, the only proof of any answer lies in death.
Those ended lives, I do them a favor. I help them, I guide them. Through my actions, they have found the truth, whatever it may be. Their disappointment, if that be the case, is of their own cause.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not about to buy a gun and start shooting people and say it was for their own good. I still exist within the boundaries we call correct, in the world in which we live, where the rules still apply. Where my desires in which cross those lines are retained from becoming reality, but I still desire.
Without the evil of man, without the chaos of war, without the death of many, there can be no life. There are those that deserve to die, and those that do not deserve to live. They are not one in the same....
...though it's not my place to decide.
I wish it was, though.
My desires, my dreams (those I remember, that is)
I think I'm going to take up hunting, though I'm not really a fan of shooting animals, I have an overwhelming desire to watch life pass before my eyes, by my doing.
A strong need to allow this shadow to continue and develop, to grow in a controlled environment.
I want to witness it again, and again. It's pure beauty to be retained in my visual memory forever, over and over. To watch as such an animate, flowing object to turn so motionless and meaningless before me, by my hands. The violence being only a small portion of it, it's action itself being the satisfying motion.
It really is beautiful, though. To watch something that, for one moment be so full of life, full of purpose and meaning, fueled by belief and desire, trust and devotion. To see something move so fluidly simply, perfect in it's physical creation, turn into a pile of rotting elements, a mere mound of matter. Just more lifeless existence that feeds life. In the blink of an eye, the fraction of a second. To be the ultimate arm of an idea one moment, and completely nothing the next. Like watching an empire in full fast forward. A collapse of ideas, a failure of belief.
Death can only be the answer, with such a question as why. When we all wonder whether there is a heaven or hell, only through death can we be certain. And I want to give that to something. I want someone to understand the weight of their existence. I want to understand it.
If death truly is the answer, or at the very least the only remaining step to finding the answer, then death must only be the beginning. That life itself is truly meaningless, save for what we chose to impose. That we only create ideas and theologies to answer the age old question of why, either way, when it's only answer comes to us at the end, what is our true meaning while we breathe?
Want to know the worst part of taking a life? It's not what you destroy, it's not what you feel. It's that burning desire to look at the fresh corpse and ask what they see, and stand there for a moment in vain hope that they can respond. In vain hope that you can learn the truth before you pass.
Observe the options. We live to praise a god, we live to continue living, we live to pursue an advancement of life itself. We live due to chaos, that through a series of random and seemingly unrelated events we have come to exist. Of all options, the only proof of any answer lies in death.
Those ended lives, I do them a favor. I help them, I guide them. Through my actions, they have found the truth, whatever it may be. Their disappointment, if that be the case, is of their own cause.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not about to buy a gun and start shooting people and say it was for their own good. I still exist within the boundaries we call correct, in the world in which we live, where the rules still apply. Where my desires in which cross those lines are retained from becoming reality, but I still desire.
Without the evil of man, without the chaos of war, without the death of many, there can be no life. There are those that deserve to die, and those that do not deserve to live. They are not one in the same....
...though it's not my place to decide.
I wish it was, though.
though i'm glad you concluded as you did.
it's not your choice to make