WANDERING SOUL

The thing about wishes; some come true, others not so. Wise men make wishes upon stars, realistic wishes that are bound to come true at a moments notice.

I am not a wise man. Neither am I a realistic person. I am a fool resigned to the ridicule of my kind. Sometimes I think that if I wished hard enough, my dark wishes would resound from the abyss of my loneliness and breathe life.

How I wish, I wish to do away with my burdensome physical body; get rid of these hands that write down my thoughts with such unwarranted accuracy, twist around my words into something everyone else can comprehend before they get the wacky idea to tear me down, word for word.

How I wish to get rid of these legs, long strong legs that give me flight I find myself running from everything before me; from people, responsibility, from love, from pain, rejection, from myself, from my great destiny, from my talents; I cowardly run from life.

Hot on my heels is DEATH, that great untiring long distance Runnerman, giving chase. He will always catch up to me in due time.

I want o get rid of these damning eyes of mine. They mock me at any given opportunity. “See and be seen,” they seem to say. Even as I close them to the world, still I feel the searing gazes of strange faces boring into my mind, seeing me for the scum that I am.

With these eyes, I see not only happiness and pleasure but also sadness, betrayal, trauma, death; I see how the world has made us into these material judgmental creatures that never tire of WANTING more still.

Most of all, I wish to get rid of this beating heart. This heart is at the root of all goes on through my mind. The feelings that enslave me into this body find their root in this good-for-nothing-heart!

I wish to get rid of all these feelings of love, hate, pain, sorrow, heartache, frustration, disappointment; these bonds that hold me in place.

I wish to go back to the beginning before anything was. When my soul was just a mess of thoughts, swimming around in darkness. The time I didn’t feel pain, love, hate, envy, vengeance, hope, loneliness. I didn’t feel hot or cold, hungry or full, dirty or clean. I could forever hover over earth musing at the futility of mundane living and the senselessness in dying. I will live on forever.

The human body is born, grows up and blossoms so beautifully as would a flower before eventually withering away and dying. It is returned from whence it came.

As for the soul, it lives on, as an awareness that once created is never destroyed. It just is. Can’t I be just that?