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I do have the tools, and I also have my need. What is it that I lack? Motivation? Ambition? Knowledge? An ice cream? Maybe all of these. Maybe none. All I can tell is that something is lacking. Like a deep hole in the middle of nowhere.

I know it exists, but I can’t tell what it needs to fill it up. I try, but nothing seems to make a difference. I wonder what will happen if I jump down myself? A part of me wonders. The rest of me is scared. Of the unknown. Of the darkness. Regrettable.

Am I an abomination? Everyone else can walk on. Maybe they are oblivious to the hole. Maybe they can ignore it. Why can’t I?

Something is very wrong, here.

I’m groping at threads, holding on to heaven, my feet planted in hell. No, it’s not because I seek happiness. I do, but that’s not the reason for this. It’s just….I wish to be a bridge. A path for help.

Salvation, such a big word. It clearly hints at the immense weight of the term, how it is to acquire. And ever harder to give to others.

I’m ranting, I know, and I can’t stop myself. Scary. Horrible. How do you think it feels, to hold a monster inside oneself?

It is like holding a vibration based nuclear fusion bomb inside a 5000 year clay jar with faded paintings of men in loincloths on it. One fall, one mistake. And you’re gone.

I’m like a mortal going against Cthulu. All of us are. Fighting against something we can’t understand. We can’t control. Didn’t Tzu say that one must understand their enemy to defeat it? I wonder if he ever did. How can you understand what defines you? Isn’t that transcendence? Such tough questions. And, even if we do get the answers, can we understand them? When their nature is such that they’d destroy our minds? So, we need the answers to prevent our destruction, but the answers will destroy us.

Paradox. Definition of us.

Such responsibilities we all carry. And such secrets we keep. Strength to carry such a burden, and will to keep it under. Why can’t we share? Trust. We say we can’t trust. Everyone says they can’t trust. Doesn’t someone have to start, to try, to birth the change?

I write to convince, to change. Can words truly shape men (and women) ? Let us hope so, because it would mean We can shape Us. Words of power. I need them. NOW.

Resisting change is nature. Caution is rewarding. But the words of one, up against a vendetta of billions. Now, will they be resisted, or exterminated? Is there a difference?