Til the Sun Comes Up

What do we do this for?

This civilization- this society- it's everywhere, but just as nameless wherever we go.
Talking about class separation, talking about stress-exhaustion, over work, over stimuli- we talk so much, but even we do nothing about it. Even the people who stop enough to think about it can do little to change this prevailing wave of apathy and degradation. We are all helpless to the power of dissatisfaction.

I could really wait my whole life for you to find me... but what good does that do, if there is no direction to it? How can you find something if you don't know how to look for it? What if you find it, and you don't know what to do with it? Even if you found me, could I really do anything that would make your life any better? Do I have the power to change your fate? Or is our fate that we will meet and it will amount to nothing?

We drink and talk until the sun comes up... what does it amount to?

I can not say what fate has in store for us. I can not promise you that I will always be there for you, or that we will change the corruption that we see all around us- that we are drowning in... Hell, I can't even see you for one night most of the time.

We may lose touch- with each other, with ourselves, with reality...

Sometimes it all seems so hopeless...

...but I have been told that if there is one good trait about me (even only one) it is that I can find hope in even the darkest places.

You may come to me with a broken heart- with a soul as deep and black as the bottom of the ocean- and even if I can not fix it, even if I can not shed light bright enough to pierce the darkness, I can still be that one thing that is there. The one person who heard you when you needed it the most... the one small light in a vast abyss of loneliness.

And what good does it do? What does that amount to?
What is a single star in the night sky?

It's an entire universe! It's a galaxy drifting unfathomable distances away- harboring undiscovered life and secrets of existence.

Or- it's a hole in the fabric of the blanket of the sky. A single rip in the illusion of a dome that surrounds us.

It's a wish. It's a dream that something good will come of all of this.

And if none of that is true- it is still there.

I'm really not going to change the world, I fear. Maybe I can not even change fate- that's kind of the point, right? Maybe there is not even a point to why I am here!

But even if that is so, I am here. Even if I can do nothing, I exist. And even the singular aspect of existence- gleans so much to hope for.

I really want to be that person- or if I am and I am just too blinded by darkness to see it- I hope I can continue to be that person. Someone so hopeful that even a mere fraction of time would be enough to give some kind of purpose to existence.

"Don't wait for me." Is probably something you'd wish to say... and even if it's not, and you really want me to stay right here, always, just waiting- "I have to keep going!" I tell myself.



---still trying to decide if writing while exhausted was a good idea...