A Testimony To Our Lives

A dark hole, its jaws stretched wide open, gaping, waiting. People wonder where it goes, some say it leads to hell, others believe it just ends and you die, I believe that it is neither; the hole is life, the worst metaphor in this sad excuse of a world, and the biggest joke also. It doesn’t end, it keeps you in suspense and then lets you down, it is dark, cold and lonely, and the only way you can survive is on your own, it’s too thin for two people together side by side, you’ll get crushed and your bodies will paint the sides of the darkness, no one will notice, no one will care, I mean it’s not like it’s their flesh on the side so why should they. They are the problem with this sad, sadistic and detrimental society, we are all out for ourselves, we claim we understand the morals we evolved with, but in truth they have just been distorted by our sad little minds which bend around the ideas of wealth and power, but if you look carefully, even with all those superficial gifts and talents you can never be truly happy. I say being alone is the only way we can survive, and I stick by that, but because of who we are, we can never be truly happy without someone else, we were made in pairs but we can’t live in pairs, we’ve become too selfish, we covet what we see, we covet what we don’t see and we covet what we want to see. It’s not all our fault, it’s just how our brains developed, surrounded by a world in which fear is used to keep order, that fear is often abused or pushed to its very limits just so some young twat can test the boundaries a bit and feel a rush, but if it weren’t for people like that what would we be, paranoid, crippled and defenceless people with no understanding of how to live our own lives, how fucking pathetic. To think that someone could actually bring one of the most intelligent creatures we know of, cowering to their knees, shaking, like a junkie craving his crack pipe. We are a sick bunch of masochistic bastards aren’t we, and why not, what in fucks name stops us, we have the power, we have the control, we were given the pen and paper and you expect us to just sit there, no, I expect us to write, and that’s what we do, we write the shit out of it, simply because we can and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Think of this as a metaphor for life, it starts out as something plain, simple and boring, and before you know it it’s spiralled out of control into something horrifically beautiful, the perfect contrast between beauty and evil, just like a supernova, a star running out of fuel, that has the right mass, collapses in on itself and then explodes into a fiery, gaseous massive event, generating billions of degrees of heat and yet the finished picture is life, beauty and sheer utter amazement at what something can become, just like life.