Time to Kill

There he sat wasting away.  Nothing to do.  Does it sound pretentious?  Only time and reflection will tell.  But rather it seems there is no choice.  The possibilities are endless, yet the options are nonexistent.  Stuck in limbo, there is nothing to contemplate.  Where is the grand goal?  The great perhaps?  Lost and found.  It is there, but not really.  He knows his goal.  Or so he thinks.  But is that what he truly wants?  Deep inside, the path he is taking, does it really resonate?  No.  There is the answer.  So what does?  What is the great perhaps?

Left, right, left.  He is playing soccer.  Memories flood of a time of innocence.  It is a time where love is fresh and days are numerous.  He lives for the day.  There is no purpose, but none is needed. Yet.  Yet he founds himself reflecting with floral lenses.  No, the past was not so great.  It is not filled with the colors and happiness in remembrance.  It is yet another trick.  Another ploy to wish for something else rather than what is to be wished for.

And so he is back in the present.  Waiting, contemplating.  Left to his own devices he must make a choice.  A lifestyle awaits him.  Should he put his mind to it, he could accomplish anything.  Or is he fooled?  Have his friends, teachers, himself been wrong?  How could they know his potential?  Perhaps there is no potential.  It was all a hype.  Turn away while you can.  Take a different path.  Take it so you will not have to endure the great pain of regret.

Clarity.  Ever elusive.  It comes and goes, floating in and out. In and out.  The thoughts have cleared.  There is nothing left.  Yet there is still no direction.  It is a canvas of white waiting to be painted.  To be filled. It is futile.  Yet in it’s futileness, something still must be done.  Pain may be just a thought, but it is certainly felt as real.  And that is the curse of the world.  To know that nothing has purpose.  Yet to waste away, to render it all useless, would be to subject yourself to misery till death.  And that is why we must find a great perhaps.

So what is it?  Is it love?  The pursuit of and finding of love?  Oh how I wish.  For if love was the answer, my life would be simple.  Or so I assume.  Perhaps it would be terrible.  Either way, how could love be the great perhaps?  And if it is, then everything else should be secondary to the pursuit of potential mates and lovers.  There is a contradiction in this theory though.  A life based on love can not be founded.  For it is only your equal that you will attract. If this is the case, a life filled with chasing love will yield nothing.  Love is not the answer.

Surely success must be the answer then.  Achievement, fame, power, and money.  Are these not the pinnacles of success?  Yet something is still not right.  What is all the fame and power worth if there is no one to share it with?  In achievement of these ambitions, you isolate yourself.  Dedicated to a task, the rest of the world fades away from you.  Forget friends, forget lovers.  The primary focus will be the task at hand and always.  Yet once that success has been achieved, then what?  Onto the next great success?  The next perhaps after the great perhaps?  This can not be.  It appears then that success is simply a means to something else.

A means to pleasure.  To a leisurely life to live.  One does not need high success, simply moderate amounts to make ends meet and to enjoy what the world has to offer.  Enjoyment is the key to the world.  It is the only thing worth pursuing! For what is life without enjoyment?  It is toil, work, and futile.  Better yet, pursuit of pleasure lends itself greatly to be shared with others.  It is the cornerstone of mutual pleasure.  Yet after all the years of pleasure, of sharing, of passion.  Does one not wish for more from life?  Before one’s time has come, on the brink of death, doesn’t one inevitably wish for a great perhaps?  To have dedicated their time to something more meaningful than fleeting pleasure?  The lesson has been learned.  Pleasure is unobtainable.  Its nature cannot be contained.  Pleasure is not the answer.

He spins around in his chair.  Thoughts come and go.  There is no solution.  Every possible answer is contradictory, flawed, useless.  Perhaps the direction to go for the directionless is to simply help others.  Perhaps they have found their great perhaps.  They know their mission.  But if that is not the case.  If they too do not know their mission, then who is to be helped?

It is clear to me now.  The helpers will help the pleasure seekers and the pleasure seekers will seek the helpers.  It is in their nature.  The lovers will love the achievers, and the achievers will achieve for the lovers.  It is in their nature.  This unity will only work if each side is to embrace their nature.  Relax into their role.  Do what you are destined to do.  The other side will come.  But it won’t come until you have fully committed to your road.  Each road is certainly different.  None better than the other.  But it is convincing to switch roads.  To experience what you have not experienced already.  But there is no benefit in this.  There is only one road for you.  And you have a choice.  Take it or leave it.

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